Wednesday, 8 July, 2015
In the summertime in Taiwan they put on these epic pool parties because the weather is lovely and toasty over here – sorry, England, I’m just stating facts, don’t be downhearted though, you do get that two week period where you can wear a t-shirt outside right up until six o’clock – cherish that.
It’s not actually always as good as it sounds; there are days when I feel like the sun is closer to me than China is. The place gets damn humid. You’ll arrange a date – whack on that designer shirt, apply some really dear aftershave, style your hair for twenty minute – and then when you get there, you’ll be so sweaty due to the heat, that you’ll look like you couldn’t actually really be arsed with the date at all. So much so, in fact, that you decided to save time by getting dressed while taking a shower.
Talking of dates, my friend worked his way into a night of passion a few weeks ago. A rendezvous that lasted a total of six hours – to skim through the details; alcohol, bed, taxi, and then never contacted the poor girl again; what a dick! So, what is the relevance of this story, other than bringing shame to the name of my good friend, Romeo? Well, that girl, the one that has probably spent the last two weeks crying into her pillow, was at the pool party!
As soon as he pointed her out, I knew that the day was going to be good.
“Can we just go now?” Said Romeo.
“Most definitely not.” Said I.
Romeo spent the next two hours playing hide and seek, with a girl, that frankly, had seemed as though she had already moved on – she was very flirty with a few of the guys at the party. Still, regardless, Romeo was certain that he had broken her heart, and found a nice spot behind a bin and a tree to ‘sunbathe’. I reckon if a paper bag had blown by, he would have grabbed it, applied eye holes and shoved it on his head.
In that time my other friends and I, drank beer and played on waterslides – something we may have done in the wrong order. When you’re drunk, you get more creative with your sliding technique. I now have a huge bruise running down my arm, thanks to attempting to forward roll my way down the shoot. Never mind don’t drink and drive, there should be ‘don’t drink and water slide’ signs around a swimming pool to control idiots like me. That one hurt the next day.
Anyway, Romeo saw how much fun we were all having and decided that he would come out of hibernation and accompany us all in the pool. Two minutes after he joined us, his old flame also entered the pool – which seemed completely coincidental, I’m pretty sure she hadn’t even noticed that he was even there at that point.
After noticing her arrival, he turned his back and stood in the section of our small circle that was facing away from the rest of the pool. He has a pretty generic hairstyle, however, he also has a huge unique tattoo across his shoulder blades. I suppose his pre-planned bolt could have included leaving his t-shirt on throughout the love scene to speed up the exit – but, the gambler in me would bet that she was familiar with the ink on his back.
All of a sudden the pool formed a massive circle, as everybody started hitting beach balls across to each other as hard as they could – we, somehow, also got bundled into this giant group. Romeo was now next to me, while Juliet was almost completely in line with us at the opposite point of the circle.
Eye contact was made, and the moment it was, the girl’s eyelids widened dramatically. She immediately turned to the friend standing next to her, while pointing at Romeo – her friend’s eyelids then also opened in a similar vein. Karma was on its way, I’m not exactly sure in what form yet, but it was coming.
The game went reasonably solemnly. A few glances were made, but otherwise, not much else. I was almost certain a beach ball was going to knock him unconscious, as well. Perhaps karma wasn’t going to present itself after all.
We had a few more beers and just chatted about football until the party was beginning to wrap up. When all of a sudden, Juliet’s friend approached Romeo.
“Hey, are you Romeo?”
“Erm, no… I’m Karl.” (What an amazing fake name to pick on the spot, by the way.)
“Oh, never mind then. You look a lot like a guy called Romeo, he was the first guy my friend, Juliet, slept with post-op. She just wanted to thank him for sharing that moment with her.”
Wait, what? Juliet was previously Julian? Obviously, there is a fair chance that she was just on a windup as a way of retaliation, but that left absolutely everybody stunned. Nice move, Juliet and friend.
Romeo was startled, while he assumed that it was a lie, he would never truly know for sure. He was also fully aware that this moment would be re-visited many times down the pub in the coming years. In a lot of ways, that was the perfect revenge – a grain of doubt will never leave him.
A very enjoyable day, indeed.
In other news, if I stay in Taiwan for ten years, I would qualify to play for the national football team, and I reckon I could – not because I’m any good anymore though, just simply because they are really bloody rubbish.
A few weeks ago, I was informed that Taiwan’s football team would be involved in a World Cup Qualifier against Thailand on my day off. Therefore, I spent a solid twenty minutes of that evening scanning the internet looking for a ticket to the event – the web offered diddly-squat. I was mesmerised – I can buy a human-size hamster wheel on the internet, but I can’t find information on a World Cup Qualifier. Had I done something to annoy Google?
As it turns out, the search engine didn’t recognise the clash because the mighty footballing Gods known as ‘Taiwan’ are impossible to trace. In other words, the Gods don’t exist. Instead, my allegiances would be switched to the sporting juggernauts wearing the famous blue and white of ‘Chinese Taipei’.
To sum up, China considers Taiwan a ‘renegade province’ – an issue much of the political world agrees with. This basically means that the island is regarded as a part of China, and therefore, if it wants to participate in sporting events such as this one, they must compete under a name that, well, isn’t Taiwan. They should have countered one childish move with another – called the team, ‘The Big Boys Bullied Us Into This Name FC’ or something. It would be worth it just to hear the commentators dealing with that tongue twister every time one of the TBBBUITNFC players had the ball.
Perhaps the name change isn’t essential – while I have no doubt that TBBBUITNFC would be a great addition to the World Cup, they won’t be qualifying anytime soon – as I previously stated, they are rubbish. They got out-played by a pretty average Thailand side on the day. The lads lost their nerves and left the stadium 0-2 losers – took me back to my days of having a Leeds United season ticket.