Clueless

The three of us were sitting in an old Irish Pub on Park Avenue, three girls after work.

Sara said: I am thinking what I want to do after graduation. Maybe a bartender." She is a funny girl, an fiction major in New School graduating in a month.

She could go wild for no reason. Last time we went out to a birthday party together last year, she went to the bathroom and exposed her breast to two guys who must feel like hitting a jackpot, they did not even ask. I find that amusing and crazy.

"Bartender sounds great. " I said, "You can write your novel on the side." I thought of Murakami writing on the counter of his jazz bar.

"I would be a bar tender if they sponsor greencard, and if I am not too clumsy with glasses, I tend to smash them." I said.

But she already lost interest on that thought of hers. The two of them began to tell me about a trip to a sex store down in Soho.

Sara was saying" No, this just does not stop. Too much Lub....".

We laughed silly. I was and am in pain, but I had to stand it. And you are supposed to laugh on those kind of jokes, it is almost like a protection--I can still laugh on sex toy jokes. Maybe I am still functional.

I want to go back to that subject, since I was thinking of what I really want to do with my life as well from here, or from the day when I am free of this work that I don't like.

"Serious, what is your plan, Sara?"

"I want to find a man who can afford me." She said slowly. She said almost like she just came back from Monte Carlo. She only SOUNDED expensive.

I looked at her. Then I looked back at my beer glass. I did not say anything else.

I felt sad for man who is going to be up to these kinds of expectaions--affording your woman. It is good that if they could and are willing too. But I still feel sad for woman who have that expecations. How about love? Was there something wrong in my built? Was I even a normal woman?

And I don't understand that concept, a man who can afford you so that you don't have to work. Afford like a minimum wage afford?

I almost asked " then how expensive are you?". Obviously she has not afforded herself very well judging from her outfit, shoes and bag. I know, I just became a little mean after that response.

And a trophy wife needs special qualities--apperances, brainlessness, heatlessness and shallowness. I am disappointed and sad to see that she has the ambition but not necessarily the material. And I do believe she has a brain.

I thought of the men I dated and loved or still love. Although to me generosity is an important factor for human being overall, not just for man, I am not sure whether I have or ever will judge any of my men based on this criteria, whether they can afford me, which has nothing to do with generosity. It is a description of financial status and the association of which to you as a woman who can provide sex and affection back in return.

I enjoy expensive gifts as well as a $5 rose. I enjoy $400 dinner at top restaurant as well as a $3 fried dumplin meal in my favorite eat-out in Chinatown. It is good to know that he would empty his pocket for a moment of happiness for us. Having the heart is everything, for me. Then I also have to enjoy him.

Respectably, the man I love felt that he should afford me or us. We had been to many good restaurants. We talked about going to Spain and Paris. But that is not a prerequisite at all for me. I want him to afford me in a different sense, I want him to afford my love.

I felt I don't have to explain these to you. You and I were close enough that we should have shared worries and problems as well as fun and great times, and that is how a Chinese woman like me loves her man, we share what we have and what we don't have.

Money is not nothing, and we all need some to be happy on the most basic senses. But it surely does not promise happiness, I tell you, going through poverty and much more well-off times.

I do have expensive taste with certain things, but good things does not always come at high price. I tell you that as well.

But who is it for me to judge. I shook off that thought and went back to smile at the old bartender guy. He is so old that you would think he might be working there for 30 years already.

When time came for the check, Sara went to the bathroom. My other friend just so happened that she did not have enough cash with her.

I paid off our drinks, it is not a lot--there is a reason this is called the cheapest place on Park Avenue, but left an extra large tip for the bartender.

Sara came back and said "I feel I owe someone money? "

"I got it. Don't worry about it."

I will afford you for this one, until you find your guy.

I still hugged goodbye with Sara, but I don't feel particularly eager to see her any time soon.

Don't just tell me this is a tough city for women, full of men-children who are being spoiled, while women want men who can afford them, besides everything else.

I don't know who is more clueless here, me or her.