64: The Sheepish Wolf

Jakarta Bound is a travelogue about life in one of the largest and most densely populated cities in South East Asia.

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Simon moved into the apartment on Wednesday night after he had attended a networking event at the Marriott hotel. The event, which was hosted every week by an Austrian businessman, was open to expats and local professionals. The host provided a free buffet (including pork sausages) and special drink offers for those who attended and it was quite popular.

The Marriot Hotel is in the same upmarket Oakwood development and just a short walk from Loewy’s where Wednesday night was Ladies Night. So typically, when the Marriot finished up at around ten/eleven, many of the attendees would walk over to Loewy’s and enjoy a few more drinks in there. It made for a good bit of mid-week social entertainment and had become a regular part of Simon’s professional/social calendar. Unfortunately for me, it was on during the evening when I was working so I couldn’t go.

It was around midnight when Simon walked into the apartment with a rosy glow in his cheeks and brighter than usual smile on his face. I assumed it was just down to his night of drinking, but he apparently also he had some “interesting” news for me.

“I met a girl tonight” he said in his quintessentially British accent, “but not the typical type of woman I usually go for” he continued. “I think you’ll be quite surprised.” Was that rosy glow in his cheeks that of a drunken man or the rosy glow of attraction? I felt like a father whose son had just told him he’s got engaged; I was quite intrigued.

“What do you mean?” I asked him.

“Well, she’s certainly not the most… demure of females. She’s actually quite… quite feisty. And she has quite a bit of extra weight shall we say. Definitely not the usual type of woman I go for.”

“What? She’s fat?”

“No! Not fat exactly, but she’s much more… more curvier than what I typically like. She has a fair bit of ‘junk in the trunk’, so to speak.” He was emphasising his adjectivals even more than usual and he did seem genuinely quite giddy and excited.

“Simon! What’s come over you mate? A feisty woman with “junk in her trunk”! Have you finally decided to try and have a proper relationship with a proper woman?”, I joked.

“Well it has been quite a while since I’ve had what you could call a proper relationship. But yes, she’s… she’s interesting. She’s quite opinionated” he said, before repeating – “She’s certainly not like the typical Asian girl I would normally go for”, this fact seemed to be bewildering to himself mainly. I was actually quite surprised too.

Although I hadn’t known Simon long, in the short time I had known him, we had spoken quite a lot about women, our respective likes and dislikes and our relationships – typical man-chat. Simon had been very clear about his preferences; he liked petit, slim, submissive Asian women, so listening to him sound all excited about some opinionated, feisty, plump professional Indonesian woman went against the grain of understanding I had about him. It was also a bit of a disappointment, from a purely selfish point of view at least. I mean, we had barely been flatmates for a couple of days – we hadn’t even shared the flat yet, let alone got started as a couple of swinging young bachelors hitting up Jakarta and its promising nightlife, and he had landed himself what seemed to be a proper girlfriend. And of course, that meant that they were going to be inseparable’ for the first month at least, which in turn meant that I was back to being Billy No Mates. I swear the God’s of Indonesia really didn’t fucking like me.

Of course I was happy that Simon had found himself a woman who he didn’t have to pay for, but I was also pissed off that I was back to being… well, on my own. A solo singleton.

I say singleton because, despite the commitment I had made to my so-called Latin lover, the combination of loneliness and the revelation of just how beautiful Indonesian women are was making me lose that loving feeling. The fact that she had not made much effort to contact me since we had agreed to try and extend our brief fling and pursue something more wasn’t really helping to keep that feeling going.

She had by this time left the UK and gone back to Venezuela to holiday with her family for a month. I had tried to Skype a couple of times and I had sent a few messages, but I hadn’t had much of a response. Actually, she had more or less told me that she wouldn’t be able to speak to me much because she would be focussing most of her time on her family whilst she was in Venezuela. However, she was going to make more time to contact me when she was back in Madrid. Essentially, this translated as: ‘I’m busy enjoying myself with my family right now. However, when I’m back in Madrid where it will be cold and wet because it is winter, and I will be back at the job that I hate, I will need someone to talk to then so I’ll be in touch’. Is that a cynical interpretation? Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Either way, it is what it is, which is pretty much a polite “fuck off”. So, after a little over a month since committing to this woman and then dealing with the extreme culture shock of life in Jakarta – alone – I was having second thoughts about whether I really wanted to hold out for her.

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