Lulu Luxe is a self-described ‘social animal,’ who shares her take on life in Dongguan. She asked us to make clear that her opinions are not those of the editors at HereDG, and not even necessarily her own.
Happy New Year, my lovely, fellow Dongguan-ites! It’s Dongguan’s favorite party girl, bringing you the scoop on what’s hot and what’s not, of where to hit and where to quit, and of who’s cool and who’s a fool.
My New Year’s resolution was to try to be less judgmental of others, but by the long-standing tradition that such resolutions are meant to be abandoned—as well as a woman’s well-established prerogative to quickly change her mind—I have already broken it!
My tale for you today is one of both comedy, and tragedy. It involves a character I will refer to as “Mr. Big.” Before you start thinking of the tall, swarthy character from “Sex and the City,” allow me to explain that the “big” here refers both to the massive size of his obese belly and to the way he was acting—like he was some sort of Brad Pitt.
I became aware of Mr. Big at one of Dongguan’s many New Year’s Eve bashes. He must be at least in his mid-40s. Picture greasy, thinning hair and a complexion that reminds me of nothing so much as a bruised potato. And—no great surprise—on his arm was a cute 20-something Chinese girl, acting as if he was her personal god.
It’s far from the first time I’ve seen this kind of thing. I tend to turn a blind eye to it, but hey, as long as they’re both happy, who am I to care? However, that evening, I’d had more than a little to drink than normal, which made me a little more curious (meddlesome?). So, when I saw his girlfriend making a beeline for the Ladies Room, I decided to follow her. We both performed our lady business, then I rather bluntly struck up a conversation by asking her, “So, is that guy out there your boyfriend?”
Before you start thinking of the tall, swarthy character from “Sex and the City,” allow me to explain that the “big” here refers both to the massive size of his obese belly and to the way he was acting—like he was some sort of Brad Pitt.
She actually looked a little embarrassed and then admitted that yes, he was. Her reaction was not that of a love-smitten lady; so, with a false bravado instilled by unhealthy levels of alcohol, I proceeded to ask her why she was with him. She told me quite plainly that she came from a poor background and had arrived in Dongguan only fairly recently. He provided her with a home and lifestyle that she simply couldn’t afford on her own.
Fair enough, I thought. I asked if she was planning to marry him. “Oh god, no! Our children would be so ugly!” She nearly exclaimed.
Having spent more than the usual time for a pee break, we each returned to our respective public roles. Me, as the girl making a drunken fool of herself on the dance floor (which didn’t really exist, so I created it), and her, as the winsome maiden on her savior’s arm.
That would, usually, be the end of my story. No moral. Live, and let live. However, I couldn’t help, but continue to watch them with the same fascination that one stares at a spider sucking the juices out of a captive fly. One would think that Mr. Big would be grateful for having such a young, attractive girl paying undying attention to him, but no. He treated her like some lower life form, as if she was some cast down petitioner who was lucky to get whatever notice he threw her way. He ordered her to perform numerous menial tasks and then insulted her for some imaginary slights. He made her a subject of mockery in front of his friends. Basically, he aimed to make himself look big by making her small.
So, Mr. Big, I would like to dedicate my first column to you. The only “big” thing about you is your belly. Everything else is tiny. Your personality, your intelligence, your humanity, and yes, that miniscule appendage that nominally makes you a male. You act like you’re some kind of Casanova, but you’ve got the sex appeal of an arm pit. I see you, and so does everyone else.
Oops, I don’t want to end on a negative note, lovely readers! So, let me just assure you that in the coming issues, I plan to introduce you to tales of intrigue, juicy gossip and lots of saucy commentary! You won’t know who I am, but I’ll be watching you for tales to liven up our incredibly boring lives here in Dongguan. See you around!