EPTEarlier, I mentioned that I house-sat for someone. What that means is that some rich dude bought an apartment in Beijing as an investment (well, several, actually), and he let me live in one for free (since he and my father had kept in touch over the years). I couldn't complain, given how expensive housing in Beijing was. The alternative was living with my grandparents, and while I wouldn't mind, Sylvia would have.
There were a few tradeoffs, though. The apartment was just that: an apartment.
No aircon.
No internet.
No hot water heater either. Cold showers ftw.
No kitchen (although given how much awesome amazing street food and restaurants there were, I didn't mind.)
No furniture. I ate on a folding metal table and slept on an air mattress, both of which I bought myself.
The friend would visit from time to time, since he had a girlfriend in Beijing (he normally lived in Hong Kong as an antiques dealer.) Sometimes he'd be gracious and take her and I out for dinner. She was drop-dead gorgeous, a graduate from the Communication University of China (中国传媒大学), and an anchorlady for BTV. It was sometimes wierd to see her face on a jumbotron screen, but I got used to it.
Anyhow, they don't really figure in this story. The only reason I mention all this is because the apartment was why I tended to stay in the office or out with Sylvia until late at night. This is how I met my boss's wife.
I directly reported to two associate VPs. One of them, we'll call Lee, the other, Wang. Lee was 29, had a PhD from the LSE, and had worked for three years in a London bulge bracket before coming to the bank where I worked at. Wang was a bit more homegrown. He had a masters from another UK school, and had spent time working on the Beijing 2008 Olympics committee before coming to the bank. Wang was popular in the bank and knew how to grease the right wheels to get things done. Lee, on the other hand, was a bit of an academic. Both had fathers who worked for the Party Organization Bureau. Both were really smart, and taught me tons about China, albeit in different ways.
Lee had a three-year old niece. Once, he took me to go visit her. She lived with Lee's aunt. Lee and I would sometimes spend late nights in the office watching the Premier League together. One such night, he got a phone call from building security.
"Be right back," he said. He appeared five minutes later, dressed in a track suit instead of his normal work attire, and with a fake goatee and an LA Lakers cap. I did a double take. "My... niece is sick. Have to go take care of her." Then, as he was getting close to the door, he turned around and added in a forced-casual departure from his normally academic tone. "There might be a woman that will come up here looking for me. Well... there will be one. I told security to let her up in ten minutes. When she comes here, don't tell her where I've gone or who I'm with. Got it, buddy?"
I nodded. It was nine thirty and I could afford to stick around for awhile before the subway stopped. Lee disappeared through the set of doors leading to the freight elevator. I should have left.
Around ten minutes later, the woman showed up, along with her parents. I first heard them down the hall: a trio of loud, hysterical voices, growing in volume. My white-collar survival instincts kicked in: I plugged in my headphones, turned on some Metallica, hunkered down in my cubicle, and pretended not to hear anything.
My cube was directly across from Lee's cube. They showed up to his cubicle and began screaming. "Where is that fuckhead," etc. When, through reflection on my laptop screen, I saw the woman pick up one of the deal toys (a glass skycraper) and begin jabbing it into a stack of papers on Lee's desk, I stood up, turned around and coughed.
They turned around. The woman looked at me with a hateful glare. "Who are you?," she exclaimed.
I asked her the same thing.
Turns out the three were Lee's wife and in-laws. Apparently Lee had gotten married to a fellow grad student in the UK; then their marriage came undone. Lee had been getting a divorce from her for a while now.
I shrugged on the inside but extended a look of sympathy. She went on. Apparently they had a kid, a daughter, three years ago. They were fighting a custody battle over her.
I froze. They must have sensed it, because her father immediately began peppering me with questions. Had Lee brought her up, he said. Where was he, he said. I shook my head and said no and I don't know so many times I lost count.
Eventually they got frustrated and left.
In the meanwhile, I should have mentioned what happened the Sunday that Banker Girl met me for our weekly course.
The lesson started off surprisingly normal. Then, midway through, she started talking about her ex-boyfriend and current boyfriend again, this time in English. And I was blown away, because I could have closed my eyes and she would have sounded exactly like a native speaker. Her grammar was clear, her diction spot-on, even her pronounciation was better.
Never one to pass up a teachable moment, I let her finish and told her that she had just done really well. Her face lit up. She said that maybe we should talk about these topics in the future instead of the Atlantic. I agreed. Then she gave me an envelope with my weekly payment. She joked that if I could make her happier, she would give me even more money.
Always polite, I refrained from peeking inside until I was out of the building. She'd given me a thousand RMB, double what she should have given.
I spent dinner with Sylvia thinking of what to do. Sylvia was the sweet, innocent type, so she thought I was just a little ill. That night, as I walked her back to her parents' home by Muxidi, I had an idea.
Part 4, First Date
http://www.teamliquid.net/blogs/viewblog.php?id=367794
. I really enjoyed this blog.
