So my last blog was about pee. Now it's time for bathroom blog number 2 (thousand).
About a year ago, I was seeing a Chinese acupuncturist pretty regularly. I've blogged about why...basically, I road my bike so much, my hand stopped working. But that is neither here nor there.
I would always take the last appointment of the day, and the acupuncturist was usually running late. I would show up about 6, and sometimes she wouldn't see me until about 7.
The acupuncturist had two daughters: a five-year-old daughter that she took to work with her every day, and a two-year-old she took to work every once-in-awhile...she would also bring her mom to watch the kids. To keep this fully in perspective for you, let me list the English language level of this blog's main characters:
The Acupuncturist's Older Daughter: Not bad for a five-year-old
The Acupuncturist's Mom: No Speaky the English
The Acupuncturist: Similar to level of Chinese Restaurant Fa Ra Ra Ra singers from A Christmas Story
The Acupuncturist's Younger Daughter: Goo Goo...Ga Ga
Week after week, it became more and more obvious that the older daughter had little-to-no male influence in her life. She was FASCINATED by me...and I am not that fascinating, especially not to a five-year-old. She deemed me "Bamboo Chickie Lacka" for some reason, and every time I showed up, she would draw me pictures, make me presents, and keep saying my "name" over and over and over again:
What are you doing Bamboo Chickie Lacka?
Play a Game with me, Bamboo Chickie Lacka.
You're Silly, Bamboo Chickie Lacka.
Seriously, this shit NEVER stopped.
But wouldn't you know it...One day, she got a little more...aggressive. She walked up to my chair, lifted her dress OVER her head and said, and I quote:
Let's play Prince and Princess, Bamboo Chickie Lacka.
I look over at the Grandma and say Um...this is kind of strange....don't you think?
Her response is short, but powerful. Ye-e-e-s.
I have hope at this point that Grandma will take control: Um....maybe she shouldn't be lifting her dress over her head...
Oddly, our communication didn't go as smoothly the second time...Ye-e-es she responds again.
OK...Grandma is clearly not going to be helpful. So I try to take a different route. I try to be direct with the little girl: Why don't you pick out a book to read.
She lowers her dress back over her privies and squeals, OK, Bamboo Chickie Lacka.
She races back and LEAPS onto my lap. Again, this is not my kid...nor my friend's kid...so I am feeling EXTREMELY awkward. I lift her up, put her back down on the ground, and ask her to read to me. Have YOU tried to be logical with a five-year-old before???
She responds to me request by crawling UNDER my chair and playing peek-a-boo near my legs. Again...my comfort level plummets even farther. I beg: OK...OK...PLEASE come out, and I'll read TO you.
OK, Bamboo Chickie Lacka.
She races out from under my chair and starts to get up on my lap again. I am turning pale white...and just imagining a law suit...I turn to the Grandma with sorrowful eyes. I am an ESL/Linguistic specialist. I can break through...she must understand this is an uncomfortable situation...she will understand me: Uhhh...I little help here???
Fuck her...Years of training for nothing. Even worse, during this brief interaction with the grandma, the grand daughter has gotten completely on my lap. No...no... I say as I lift her up and put her back on the floor. But..there is something odd now on my leg. Something I know wasn't there when I walked in the door. It's roundish. It's black. And it's warm.
Um...did you go poop on my leg?
Giggle, Giggle: No, Bamboo Chickie Lacka..she did, pointing to her two-year-old sister who has been NOWHERE NEAR ME.
I again look at the grandma...who I no longer believe is just linguistically challenged, but maybe just an idiot. I look at my leg, back at grandma, back at my leg again, and then back at grandma.
I think your grand daughter pooped on my leg.
I race to the bathroom as the acupuncturist comes out to finally see me. I briefly relay the order of events...and she concludes I think daughter have some crush at you.
No lady, your daughter just took a whopping dump on my leg. Somewhat emblematic of most of my previous relationships....but this is the first time I actually had a woman LITERALLY shit all over me.
I wipe the poop off my leg, get poked for an hour, and shell out $75. I go out that night and tell this story to a few people who I thought would sympathize...but no, they just laughed at me.
No love for Bamboo Chickie Lacka. Plenty of crap, though.