by Angel Chu
Well, well, can you believe it? After all the time I spend helping out others with their travails d'amour, Yours Truly has found herself a new beau!
I believe it was Descartes who first said "only through the light of opportunity can we seize the light of understanding". And how true I discovered that to be last week.
It was a Friday night when my friend Kitty whisked me away from the tiresome chore of concocting the weekly fashion article I write for a magazine published in Shanghai. She invited me out for some Italian food at a classy little place in Chaoyang. Cosied up inside away from the icy gales, we ate some delicious al fresco spaghetti and chattered away about boys and phones and my new purse.
We went on to a pretty happening bar not far from the Canadian embassy - we sipped Singapore Slings and listened to a quirky avant garde jazz trio before going upstairs to strut some stuff on the dance floor. Kitty popped over to one of the booths to say hello to some friends of hers, and that was when I saw him.
He was with the rest of the group, but as Kitty approached I could see him turn and look towards me. He was a well-toned white guy with gorgeous green eyes. Even from across the room, I could immediately tell there was a flash of attraction. It was electric. Later, chilling out beside the dance floor, I nudged Kitty - "Who is that hot guy you were talking to? He's been gazing at me for positively ages!"
"He's not even looking at you," said Kitty, "and he's gay anyway." Kitty is such a hoot! I nearly spilt my drink after that, I was giggling so much.
I was in a quandary - I could tell we were both aching to rush into each other's arms, but would he be one of those sort of old-fashioned guys who'd be "turned off" by a girl who made the first move? To give me time to think about it, I popped into the ladies' room to powder my nose.
I redid my Red Earth lipstick and checked myself out in the mirror. I had every reason to feel confident. Prada purse, pink Miu Mius with a killer heel, and a saucy skirt from Bossini. I felt like Audrey Tautou in Breakfast At Tiffany's. I was ready to go out there and get this guy. I'd be in the passenger seat of his Mercedes cruising down Wangfujing (Beijing's answer to 5th Avenue, where I also once went shopping) by Tuesday. Thursday at the latest. I felt a deep connection and understanding with this guy, like Olivia in Twelfth Night with Cesario.
I came back to the bar to find Kitty playing her "coquettish little minx" card with a group of guys from Austria, who were all clearly smitten. As I was being introduced, "my guy" approached.
"Excuse me, miss," he said. My heart skipped. "Sorry, I'm trying to get to the bar - could I just squeeze past?"
But I knew what he really meant.
I begged Kitty to introduce me, but she seemed to get annoyed, no matter how much I pretended to be about to cry. She said she wanted to go home.
"He's not interested," she said "and if you're that bothered, go and talk to him yourself."
Kitty can be a real bitch sometimes.
Anyway, dear reader, I'll keep you updated on my besotted suitor and how he turns out - I'll keep him keen by ignoring him for a while, but I reckon I'll let him take me out somewhere upscale pretty soon, once I find out his contact details and name.