Enter the German

The cute flame haired dorm mate of mine bounced back in. She was a real busy bee with lotsa grooming and personal things to attend to, but today she had something she really wanted to share with me.

Me   " What is it ? "

She  " Look "

She pushed the pictures she'd developed into my hands. Excitement uncontained , she was flushed and glowing.

Crap ! She went skydiving on the Pampas ! Damn, My eyes opened wide , I stared at the picture of her,cheeks flailing strapped to the instructor . She giggled.

Me " Woaaaaa.....you went what ? What's this ? You jumped out of a planeeeee ?

She " uuhhh" ( this is one vivacious bundle of sunshine, I tell you )

Me  " so how much did it cost you "

After conversion, at that time, I'll put it around RM500.

Toyed with the idea but figured time was not on my side. Besides I had to survive till the end of my stay . Thus although I would have been mad enough to jump back then, it was simply out of the question.

Because I was oohhing , aaahing and cooing, the Aussie could not take it anymore and climbed up to our level. Adoi...

He " What's happening here, lemme see " he barged in 

Flip, flip, flip pictures came to her posing stark naked in a Bolivian salt field.

He eyed her knowingly, " You're Jewish aren't you ? "

She nodded happily. Didn't I tell you she was cute.

He continued flipping and passed whatever he'd gone through to me. 

Mr. Aussie revealed he was a photographer bla, bla,bla, he had a girlfriend, bla, bla, bla.

 I can't remember what else he was saying because I was trying so hard to not to stare too much at the bare neccessities and look perfectly ok with the whole naked photo with arms and legs akimbo, at the same time. Naked in desert, not naked on the bus,then clothes off again. Naked here, here and there. Oh god. Crazeee. Couldn't get used to it. Never will.

Later that night, miss traveller centrefold didn't come back to the dorm . But a German did. Just arrived, straight off the plane.

Again pleasantries exchanged and the next day I trailed her around town. Tall and well built as a tank, she walked briskly. Have to say I felt really safe with her around. Keeping up was the hard part.

Cafe Tortoni was scheduled up next in the evening's itinerary. She'd made reservations and mentioned that there was a dress code. She threw on a dress and shawl and myself something ridiculous.

All eyes turned at us as there were not many Orientals in da house. Posh place lemme tell you. Too posh for me.

"You must try the Hot Chocolate . It's said to be really good "

I groaned cos I'd tried it once in Rome and I " ta lang chan " so hard, I told her no.

" But it is gooooodddd "

Aiyo, ok whatever. Bring it on . Fingers crossed.

Rome and BA , makes no difference . Again, was confronted with what looked like a thick whipped chocolate cream , sitting in a cup, so thick that if you turned it upside down, you'd have to count to 5 before it drops down with a loud Plop !

Anyway, she was deliriously upbeat, by just sitting there inside that historic cafe, though a little miffed as to why I found it such a torture to finish something she liked so much. Using short cuts, we made our way back on foot again, through dark alleys which I wouldn't even go .

By the time we got home, miss centrefold was already in bed. Waiting...

- To be continued -