Chapter 11
11
Friday 4 March
12:25 p.m.
There was a huge commotion earlier today at work because Mong fainted in the pantry. At first we thought he’d had a heart attack, which in his case would be expected, but he came to a few seconds later, looking bemused. He was about to go back to his office when his secretary and one of the senior partners intervened and marched him off to the hospital. They ran some tests and turns out the man had contracted dengue. With that diagnosis, he now has no choice but to stay home for two full weeks.
The doctor was apparently surprised/horrified that he was able to get to the office this morning and work since, you know, he was running a fever and his white blood cell count was so low it was life-threatening. But that’s Mong; he’s nothing if not dedicated. #workgoals #restecp (to quote the great Ali G).
Suresh and I have been tasked to cover his files, the few he would never delegate, preferring to work on them directly with the help of his lackeys/junior associates, Olivia and Yu Han. I will never leave the office. Never.
9:35 p.m.
Left the office with Suresh. Yu Han and Olivia were killing each other to distinguish themselves to us and were unwilling to leave the office before us, so when Suresh asked if I’d like to grab a drink, I surprised myself and said yes.
Made beeline to a tiny little pub that is popular with the after-work crowd in our building and finished a tower of beer and a
bottle of sake. At first the drinking took place in silence (we were tired), then we began to talk. We talked a lot about our families. His mother was now convinced that he and Anousha were never going to get married in time for Anousha to bear children without the helping hand of technology. He showed me a bizarre WhatsApp conversation with his mother where she started sharing articles about how important it is for women without clear romantic prospects to freeze their eggs after hitting thirty, how sperm and egg quality decrease with age, what diseases geriatric-egged babies were more prone to get, etc.
“What?” I said, or perhaps shouted. I was very drunk. I was also very outraged. “What gives these goons the right to . . . the right to tell you where to put it? Where were they”—my voice rose higher—“when you needed to know where babies came from and they told you to ask your high school biology teacher, because that’s what they’re paid to teach? Where? Nowhere, the cowards!” I slammed the tabletop for emphasis, passion rising, spittle flying. “You know how to dissuade them from sending you stuff like that, right? You just need to send them detailed texts about all the sexual positions you use with Anousha and ask them for tips on how to get each other in the mood. That should make them stop the passive-aggressive ‘suggestions’ about your sex life, the nosy jerks.”
He looked at me and said, “Andrea, stop talking or we might become friends.”
11:05 p.m.
Home at last. We ended up spending the last two hours strategizing on how best to thwart annoying attempts at matchmaking/speeding up marriage and babies by our respective parents. Surprised by cross-cultural similarities in Asian parents across the spectrum. Also vindicated that I was not the only one who started out a virgin at uni. I don’t know how we got to sharing something so personal, but Suresh is very easy to talk to. And maybe the drinking helped a little.
Anyway, speaking of sexual inexperience, I wonder how things would be in the sack with Orson; nowadays, the younger generation are so blasé about sex. They’ve seen all the mind-boggling stuff with one click that you had to dig through dodgy bookstores to get an idea of (not speaking from personal experience, of course). They know how a threesome works before they’ve even gotten to first base with another person. For young people these days, porn is not something to be consumed in a dark corner, with shame and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (again, not speaking from personal experience).
Hmm. I wonder what kind of dodgy stuff Orson expects me to do. Maybe it’ll involve food. Mmm. Food.
11:25 p.m.
This is what Val texted to remind me of our plans:
Tmw be at Swissotel pickup point by 7pm for Sexy Book Club and dress NICE or else.
Really knows how to sell a fun date, that one.