Woman In Irish Linen Shirt

"Why do I hate talking to you?" Miss Pande evasive, she seems to want to play down what she just said as soon as possible. "When do you love pickled cucumbers? I have always wanted to try, but I can't muster the courage. ."

I knew it in my mind. I couldn't ask anything after I asked. I just said: "I'm from a liberal arts college. You know, people in a dormitory of ours usually have a closer relationship."

"Kuai" is a brand of Guozhen in the United States, so the name suggests, "Kuoai" pickled cucumber is to put pickled cucumbers in Guozhen for a second pickling, and the traditional method requires additional sugar... The first time I saw it was at a large party Above, there is something strange and refreshing that looks red and cut into small pieces at the buffet. Because it doesn't look like food, I didn't die.

Don't get me wrong, not all Americans eat such bold foods.

"I think I can guess a little bit." She smiled knowingly.

"Yeah..." I was a little bit dumbfounded. "We had few international students, and I was the only one in the same dormitory for the first year. They said it was a Smithian tradition, and I really believed it."

"Are you from Smith College?" She nodded when she saw me, and said again, "Your tradition does not seem to be this."

I took a breath, didn't answer, just smiled.

My undergraduate school is relatively well-known in the United States, but not because of well-known alumni or the like-of course we also have well-known alumni! I still have a lot of affection for my alma mater—mainly, uh, it's similar to the classic North American jokes of "U-Haul" and "Subaru". The reason why the school is mentioned in the chat is often related to the sexual orientation of the students. Related.

The slang term LUG (Lesbian Untill Graduation) even has a "SLUG (Smith Lesbian Until Graduation version in Massachusetts. About half of the students have had girlfriends. We are a girls' school.

"But the experience of a single-sex school must be very special." Miss Pan De said, "I have been in a mixed school. The high school originally wanted to go to a girls' school, but my dad called me to teach me for a long time after learning about it."

I laughed with her. Single-sex schools at the middle school level generally have a church background.

"It depends on how you look at it." I said, "As mentioned before, our school is far away from Boston. It is in a small town and has a strong academic atmosphere. Compared with the experience exchanged in Hamburg, the girls' school The classroom speech situation is indeed not very active. Everyone tends to talk in a manner that is weakened by conflict. Generally speaking. LUG does exist, but this phenomenon is still rare among international students, especially Asian students. Because everyone is more or less affected by the cultural hegemony of a certain duality, or the context of logocentrism."

"Wow." She raised her eyebrows. "You must have read a lot of Judith Butler's books."

I smiled: "This is also an aspect that you must face when you study in a girls' school in the United States. Everyone is very enthusiastic about the topic of rights."

"Sounds great." She thoughtfully, "but the minority should find it challenging in this environment? They are the mainstream in society, but they are a minority in school."

"Every semester someone transfers. Some people have to stay there because of scholarships. I think it should be uncomfortable." I shrugged. "In addition, many students will choose courses from other schools so that they can have a chance. meet new friends."

"Do you often go to other schools?"

"It's an hour's ride." I shook my head. "It's too cold in winter. I haven't tried it."

"It sounds a bit lonely."

"You always have countless parties to attend." I blinked, "No matter which university you are at."

She looked at me with a smile, as if she meant something: "Then you must be the kind of college student who plays hard and learns hard?"

I didn't want to show my faintness, I didn't answer directly, just smiled at me.

Soon we shared a whole box of snacks. To Asians who are accustomed to fine processing of food, making sandwiches does not reflect any cooking skills. I can only say that Miss Pan De’s food taste in this area is very close to mine.

Maybe we have more in common than I initially thought.

After the shower, we went out to change clothes. She was wrapped in a white bath towel with Ralph Lauren bear, which was strangely cute, but I didn't look at it much. Mine is a quick-drying bath towel.

I quickly put on my pants and underwear, then put my shirt on and started putting on socks slowly. At this time I heard footsteps.

I instinctively raised my head. Miss Pan De, wearing only trousers and sports underwear, half leaned against the locker, appeared at the end and asked: "Why don't you use the locker next to me?"

I was flustered and forced myself to stare into her eyes not to stare, and said, "Uh, uh, I just opened this cabinet by the way, and didn't think so much at the time."

She swept me around with interest, as if she had already seen my lie: "You can see that you pay attention to your diet."

I quickly buttoned the buttons, lowered my head, and seemed to make buttonholes: "Thank you. I slept less recently. I wonder if I want to find a coach to help me reduce my body fat percentage."

"It's perfect now." She stood there, waiting until I had buttoned all the buttons, "It's better to keep one. With your Blazer."

I untied the top button again, and stuffed my sportswear and bath towel into the bag when I came in. I just looked at my cabinet and said, "Thank you. Go ahead and put it on. Be careful to catch the cold."

She laughed for no reason, whispered "Thank you for your concern", and finally went back.

I breathed a sigh of relief, put my jacket over, and closed the locker carefully, for fear that a little noise would lead her back again.

To be honest, I just want to go home quickly now. She definitely teased me on purpose, but I didn't plan to come out in the workplace. Although I wouldn't lie about it, I never thought about sharing the facts about my personal life.

Singapore is not a minority paradise. Although there are activities like "Fen Dian" every May, "Article 377" still exists in law, and men may be flogged for this. Even pessimistically, when necessary, the tragedies that have been staged in Chechnya may be repeated in the sex-minority bars in Clarke Quay.

Back in the car, Miss Pan De did not start the engine immediately, but just asked: "Why did you ask me out today?"

Her hair had returned to its usual position, and the perfume passed through the moist hair tips, if it hadn't, expanded its dominance.

"Don't laugh, I feel silly thinking about it myself—" I glanced down at my jacket. "This Blazer is new this year. I wore it to the company once before—no one asked me. !"

She empathized with me very quickly, raising her eyebrows: "This shouldn't be."

"I mean, someone praised me or something, but you know..." I shrugged. "You can guess three times. If you get it, I will treat you to dinner."

"You still owe me a dinner."

"Caesar belongs to Caesar." I folded my arms and tilted my head to look at her.

"Okay..." She observed my coat carefully. "Actually, from the first sight, I thought this Blazer was very special. At first, I thought it was some kind of tannin with a hemp blend. Plus you used silver buckles, I thought you wanted the rebellious feeling of pursuing denim suits."

In the early 1950s, Bing Crosby, a smash hit, was refused entry by high-end hotels for wearing jeans. Levi's later made him a dress made of denim-this anecdote is very limited, and it can only be said that Miss Pan De is indeed an expert.

"Thank you!" I am really happy that someone understands the language I want to express through clothing, but this is too difficult for our company and even Singapore as a whole. It belongs to the desert of fashion and it is hard to find a friend.

She pressed the back of her hand to her chin, thinking: "But when you look closely at this fabric, it seems to be very shiny. Can I touch it?"

"Please."

So she touched her hands for a moment, and in an instant, Miss Pan De was surprised and raised her head and asked me: "wool?"

"It's close." I looked at her expectantly.

"Is the Italian material correct? Which one?"

"Piacenza, it's Alxa cashmere." I looked at her like a god, "Have you turned through their fabric brochure?"

She shook her head: "I rarely touch cashmere suit fabrics."

"You are really good." I spared no effort in complimenting. "I never thought you could get it right."

Miss Pan De smiled, lowered her head, and turned to say: "I can understand the feeling of wanting to find someone to share with clothes made of such rare textiles."

"Don't mention it, it's really silly to think about it now." I turned out the window a little embarrassed, and as if I just remembered, I folded my palms together, "Right! Your gift!"

I took out the pen: "Uh, the bag is a bit casual... Please don't expect the packaging inside. I don't have a suitable box on hand, so I just put it in as it is."

Miss Pan De took it, took out the masterpiece that I personally "made old" from it, thought for a second or two, and asked: "Is it a pen? Can I take it apart now?"

"certainly."

I took a right breath at the moment the package was completely uncovered. I sighed and said: "It still looks very beautiful now."

Of course it’s beautiful. Who buys a five thousand new pen if it’s not beautiful?

"It looks expensive." Miss Pan De said while turning the pen. She looked around carefully, but did not immediately refuse. Finally, her gaze fell on the painter's signature place and asked, "Is this a Chinese character, Yao?"

"It's Chinese characters, you know, there are quite a lot of Chinese characters in Japanese, but sometimes the meaning is not exactly the same as Chinese. It's like the relationship between English, French and German." I leaned over and took a look, "This should be 'Guoguang'-I don't know how to pronounce it in Japanese-next to it is the signature of the artist. It is so scribbled that I can't recognize it."

"Is this a pair with yours?"

I shook my head: "That's why I said that my pen has other meanings the other day. The pen I bought first was the money I saved from my part-time job—and my mother gave me a similar one. She That one is much more expensive and has a commemorative meaning, so I have been using it. This one has not waited for its owner. I hope you like it."

She was silent for two or three seconds, then smiled and said, "It seems difficult to refuse your wishes."

"Then don't refuse." I looked at her, "It's just a commodity."

Miss Pan De folded the wrapping paper. I'm pretty sure she noticed the obsolete paper and the homework I wrote on the front-the paper and pen were put into a kraft paper bag and then put in her bag. She put the bag back in the back seat and looked at me sincerely and said, "Thank you. I will use it well."

"Pen and I will be very happy." I was relieved.