The other day, my mom decided that she and I should spend some quality female time together while the manlier half of erc's family went kayaking. Since I have refused to kayak since 1997 (when my feeble arms cramped, the tour guide had to hitch my boat to his with a bungee cord and drag me for miles like a carcass), I gladly obliged to some Q.T with Mom.
Our day began with a trip to an outdoor shopping center: Imagine the most depressing strip mall on earth, then substitute the 99-cent acrylic nails with ugly puka shell jewelry and tacky wooden souvenirs. While Mom wandered amidst the other visor-bedecked ladiez, I looked for a crossword puzzle, coffee, and a shady tree. The stoner guy making the coffee told me that I was "way tense," "clearly from the mainland," "wearing a "manly shirt," and needed to "find a dank beach to chill at."
As you can see, the two girls behind me are staying thirty feet away so as not to catch my "mainland" vibes. That shirt does look kind of manly.
After Mom found me, the next gals-only stop was the Wailea Mall, sort of a deserted luxury mecca for bored tourists. After half-heartedly looking for a business suit for my upcoming Professional Life and disagreeing over the cut and color (apparently cocaine-white linen screams "Mexican druglord" to everyone but me), we sat down to do a little catching up. Readers with Asian mothers know what "catching up" really means:
Mom: You need to do some teeth whitening. Maybe the white strips? So yellow, because you drink so much coffee. You need to drink less coffee, and less soda, too. How many cups? You need to get it fixed before your interviews. Unless--(laughs cruelly)--the interview is at Starbucks.
Mom: You know, people looking at you can tell you don't put time, money into your hair. (Pause). That's good, boys like women who are cheap like you.
Mom: Be more careful in the sun. Are you wearing sunscreen right now? Although...all of those freckles on your face are not so bad. Actually, you look very nice now, but--(Taps the bridge of her nose)--just let me know if want to get this fixed.
Mom: You know, the bump (taps nose again, then whispers). We don't have to tell anyone.