FYI, I charge by the hour

“Be careful when you’re working with these,” The Bossman said.

He was giving me instructions on how to properly prepare our HSV proficiency specimens.

“They’re just as infectious as live viruses, you know. They’re in fact dehydrated viruses.”

So with surgical precision I rehydrated the vial using a small syringe. I held my breath as I pulled the needle out of the small vial’s rubber stopper, trying to prevent my hands from shaking and inadvertently poke myself with a syringe full of hydrated Herpes Simplex Virus.

As I carefully pulled it out I thought to my self: “Man, my work hazards are no different than that of a Hollywood Boulevard hooker. One mistake and say hello to Valtrex forever.”

An Epic Adventure

Today I walked out of the Waikele McDonalds’ womens bathroom. At 8:00 in the morning. I didn’t realize it after I got a weird stare from a guy sitting just outside the bathroom. I bought an Egg McMuffin and Sausage McMuffin out of guilt.

Something worth telling the grandkids about. I guess.

Best over a bottle of beer

I once kissed a French bride on a gondola ride down in Saleve. She said I didn’t kiss her correctly. So I had to kiss her again: three times on alternating cheek. The crowd cheered when I got it right.

—

In Kyoto we rode the bicycle around the city looking for the Imperial Palace. I stopped a man to ask for directions. He ran away and hid behind the lady walking behind him like a little boy. A mild case of Hikikomori perhaps? Or maybe it’s his way of saying I could use a few more tic-tacs.

—

We were looking for a karaoke bar in Itaewon. We saw a big sign that say カラオケ. As we walked in we were greeted by hunky Korean men dressed in sharp suits reeking of pheromones. Then I realized that norebang was more of the word we were looking for. I had to scrub myself three times with soap and water when I got home, trying to wash away the “wrong vibe.”

—

On a Shinkansen ride to Tokyo a French woman was staring at me. So I smiled at her. We ended up talking for the remainder of the 4-hour train ride. She was visiting her brother who just got promoted. It was her second time in Japan. She was traveling alone armed with only her strong will and her trusted Lonely Planet. She was 6 feet tall with a heavy West African accent. She left me with these words of wisdom:”A quelque chose malheur est bon.” She was quite a brave and wise woman.

—

In a kaiten sushiya in Kobe I was dared by friends to ask the waitress for her cellphone number. Being the type that never backs down on a dare I went up to her. She had pretty eyes. Sparkling eyes to be precise. Using my ultra-sophisticated Japanese conversational skills I told her: “Kimi no me wa kira-kira.” Surprised at my smooth move she turned around covered her mouth and giggled. So I went in for the kill. Keitai no bango moraimasu ka? Ii desu ka? I asked. She just stood there laughing while the big “Jackass” sign was flashing in my forehead.

—

After crossing the border to Tijuana we were a little apprehensive to take the short stroll in the dark Mexican streets. So we took a taxi instead. I told the driver using my best Speedy Gonzales impression to take us to the best club in Tijuana. He took us to the best club alright. Me and my cousin stood in front of the club named Chicago, sticking out like a sore thumb — I was wearing a bright yellow jacket. We were the only asians in the vicinity. Everybody else was in cowboy get-up and dancing to mariachi music. We looked at each other and asked, where are all the Americans?

On a bicycle built for two

We were driving down the H2 freeway. I shifted the car to 5th gear as we hit the final 5-mile home. She gently rested her head on my shoulders. I grabbed her left hand with my right. She gave out a big sigh.

She held up the heart-shaped pendant I just gave her and looked at it in wonderment. She said, “I have never received jewelry from any of my previous boyfriends ever.” As she held it up I can see the jewelry glimmer as we pass by lamp posts. She looked at me and smiled. “You don’t need to buy me jewelry nor shower me with lavish gifts. I am content with just having you.” I smiled back. “I just wanted to let you know that I really appreciate all that you’ve done. Thank you,” she continues.

For a guy, being told that he’s appreciated is just as good as being told that he is loved. So I said to her, “I love you too.”

Our 1st Valentines Date: Take Two

Last year on Valentine’s day I only had $200 to my name, a job that’s two days old (after being unemployed for 5 month and living off my life savings), and one disappointed girlfriend.

This year I am determined to make up for last years disappointment. A Valentine’s present is in order, a dinner date has also been scheduled. And hopefully a happy girlfriend is the end result.

I think I’m slowly climbing my way out of the “Bad Boyfriend” hole to the “Good Boyfriend” level.

And the dish ran away with the spoon

The cold winter ocean-water is slowly becoming frigid as the sun slowly sets out in the horizon. The cool mountain air blows a soft  gentle breeze causing ripples on the almost placid water of Alamoana beach. Two portly European couple gingerly traverse the jagged shore on the north side of the beach, trying to avoid sharp coral rocks as they make their way to shore. Surfers carefully carry their surfboards out of the  water, careful enough as not to damage them. I hurriedly put my goggles back on and start the half-a-mile swim back to the south side of the beach. The water is clear. You can almost see the fishes and all the other critters navigating it’s way around the mixture of coral rocks and sand preparing for darkness. I start off with long slow strokes but with each stroke and each breath I can see the sun slowly  sinking into the horizon, giving off a bright red and orange glow. I swim faster and faster. The fishes beneath my feet are a little bit harder to see now. So I put more force with each stroke.  My shoulders ache after swimming tirelessly for almost an hour, but I still have alot of ground to cover and the sun is slowly fading away.  I push my self  harder as if I’m being chased by a school of hungry sharks. Then after a few more forceful strokes I turn towards the horizon,  hold my breath, and watch the sun disappear into the horizon. Now, the only evidence of it’s existence is the bright red glow on the horizon. Sometimes a bright red ray would peer in between the clouds, as if pulling the dark curtain of twilight down. I exhale. Then take a very deep breath. I can hear my rapid heartbeat in between the shutter clicks and the flash flickers, as many tourist and sunset enthusiasts capture this marvelous moment on their various cameras. You can almost hear the chorus of “ooooh’s” and “aaaaahhh’s” as each one takes in the beauty of the moment. Lovers hold hands. Ladies would place their heads  gently onto their boyfriend’s shoulder. Some of the lovers kiss. Some of them locked in a sweet embrace. Photographers take one last photo hoping for that best sunset photo ever to hang on their living room wall. And I, I say to myself, “let’s do this again next Saturday,” and take another deep breath.

I am so getting fired for this

My boss is an old Samurai in his late 50’s. He’s ruled the lab for the last 20 plus years with an iron hand. Nothing gets past him. Show up late for work and you’re getting an earful. Take your 10 min break longer than you’re suppose to and you’ll end up at the receiving end of his wrath. He’s well aware of his reputation of being a word I can’t mention in this blog (let’s just say it’s a word that starts with the letter A and ends with the word hole). He’s actually proud of the fact that everyone trembles in fear at the mere mention of his name.

At work they call me the Golden Child, a reputation I so despise but at the same time I am so grateful for. It’s not because I am so great at work that I got such a reputation but it’s a rather dubious one. For some reason my boss has a certain affinity for me. I’ve been late for work a few times yet I’ve never heard any grumblings from him. I’ve also taken longer breaks than I should but not a word out of his mouth came forth. At work I am one of the few people that can bring a smile to his face. Every time he’s in a bad mood my coworkers would coerce me to talk him out of his bad mood. And most of the time I would succeed. I ‘m not exactly sure why that is so but I’d like to keep it that way. The further away I am from the receiving end of his wrath the better my life is at work.

I think one of the reasons why the boss likes me is because I am not afraid to sit down and engage in some intellectual conversations with him. Take note though that I’m using the word intellectual very very loosely. He’s passionate about tropical fishes and wood turning. Every conversation no matter how remote we start off with always ends up being about fish or wood. One time we were talking about the genocide in Rwanda, and how we ended up talking about cichlids is a mystery to me.

But once in a while he would throw me off with off-the-wall questions that would either leave me scratching my head or feeling creeped out. As you’re reading the following conversations imagine a staunch and fierce-looking old Samurai asking a carefree Filipino lad silly questions.

Conversation #1
As I walked in the room he asks me:

Boss: Are you a Ninja?
Me: WHAT??? *scratches head*
Boss: When you went to Japan you didn’t take Ninja training, or that sort, did you?
Me: ummm… No, why?
Boss: I was just wondering if you could crawl out of the air ducts without me noticing you gone.
Me: I think it would be easier if I just tell you that I’m leaving.
Boss: You’re not gonna use one of those smoke screens are you?
Me: No. I don’t even know where to get one of those.
Boss: Oh, okay. I was just wondering.

—-
Conversation #2

The phone rings. I answer it but the person on the other line hangs up.

Boss: Who was that?
Me: I don’t know. They hung up.
Boss: Oh. Did Barry call by the way?
Me: Who’s that?
Boss: You know… Barry.
Me: Huh? *thinks* — Oh! Obama you mean?
Boss: Yeah, did he call?
Me: Why would he want to call you? Are you guys friends or something?
Boss: No, but I was hoping he’d call.

—-
Conversation #4

Telling me about his recent purchase from Amazon.com.
He purchased a respirator for his wood turning hobby. The respirator consists of a belt that suctions air and blows it up through a plastic pipe and out of the helmet to prevent wood particles from being inhaled by the wood turner (click link for image).

Boss: Oh it finally came in today.
Me: What came?
Boss: The respirator I bought from Amazon.com.
Me: That’s cool. So did you get to try it out?
Boss: Yeah, it works great. I’m surprised that it only took them two days to deliver it and I didn’t have to pay an arm and a leg to get it.
Me: That’s great.
Boss: I have a little problem with it though.
Me: Uh-oh. I hope it has warranty.
Boss: No, no. It’s not that. The machine works fine.
Me: So is it the operator then?
Boss: Yeah, somewhat.
Me: Oh, so what’s the problem then?
Boss: I can’t fart when I’m on it.
Me: Ha ha ha! Yeah that’s dangerous. We don’t want you passing out while turning wood. That means you can’t eat tsukemono (Japanese fermented vegetables served as side dish) before you operate it then.
Boss: I know. And I love radish tsukemono.

All of a sudden I feel grossed out.