During my summer break one day, a British friend gave me a letter and told me to read it when I was on the plane back to Malaysia. He told me that besides a letter, he had written a story he would like me to be the first to read.
I read the story first, which didn’t make sense, and then the letter, which went something like this:
Thank you so much for coming to my birthday party the other day. I was very pleased that you came, and was especially pleased you sat beside me. Thank you for the box of chocolates! I am keeping it hidden in my drawer away from my wife.
You looked pretty that day. I liked your blouse. Your blouse was nice, but it didn’t obscure the shape of your breasts …
I can’t remember the rest of the letter.
As a young (and innocent) university student then, I was shocked by his bluntness. I was horrified!
My mum was not pleased when I repeated the details of the letter to her, neither was my aunt.
“Hmmph! What a dirty old man,” my aunt commented. “Better stay away from hamsup (perverted) old men.”
His letter scared me and I couldn’t help being affected by it, that I stopped being friends with him. He emailed to ask why I was avoiding him, and I told him. Why I found him scary, is because I started to wonder whether he preyed on Chinese girls as a hobby. I wasn’t the only Chinese girl he befriended – there were other girls from mainland China, Taiwan, etc who he’d go all out of the way to help them out.
I mean, what the hell, man, what if he had been checking out my breasts all the while we met up for coffee and while working on a project together??
At that time, he was 56 years old, so yes, my aunt labelled him a dirty old man.