And I shall call my disposable friend "Dippy"

Memoirs of a Geisha.

Great book, not extraordinary as I expected, but then again, I still have about thirty pages left. Through reading this book and working in a business oriented hotel I find myself thinking that I have a little Geisha in myself. But even as I think it I frown because it sounds pretty much laughable that a little Ohioan gal working the front desk of a hotel wants to think of herself as a little bit Geisha. But I don’t mean it in the kind of stereotypical way we (and very much myself) thinks of Geisha. I don’t mean to say that I think I’d look good in white face paint and a kimono, nor do I think I have any type of a delicate walk or serene attitude. To explain what I do mean I gotta summarize a bit from the book. Sorry for any of you that haven’t yet read it.

The main character, Sayuri, is about 13 years old at this point and is apprenticing to be a geisha. Her ‘older sister’, the geisha who is teaching her asks for her to pour tea as though she was a male customer. Sayuri grabs the pot and pours the tea. Her teacher then stops her and tells her how pretty the underside of her arm is and that to tease her customers she should try to subtly show it as she pours the tea. Sayuri tries again. This time she is too obvious. Again she tries until her teacher decides that she is able to subtly about to show just a hint of the pale underside of her arm as she pour tea. Just enough to make the men sweat.

This is where I think I have a little in common with this idea of geisha. Or maybe it’s nothing as elegant sounding as geisha but it’s just simply being an entertaining tease.

Today I noticed myself doing it and couldn’t help but think of this book. I was talking to a man at the holiday inn. He had just come in from work and was dead tired but he stopped in the meeting room anyway to say hello and out of kindness I made small talk with him for a few minutes. He told me about work and what he’d done that day and that because of a clerical mistake he had been sent to Ohio a whole day earlier. I tried to make things positive, “well at least it gives you a day to get things together, give you time to rest before work tomorrow.” He told me that yes, it did give him time to rest, at least time to rest his feet. When I asked about his feet and why they were such a concern he told me about a day, a few months ago when a young man accidentally turned on a machine he shouldn’t have and it caught his shoes and sucked him into a piece of machinery that crushed the bones in his feet and pulled all the muscles and tendons from one side of his foot to the other. Of course I frowned and gasped and stuck out my lower lip sadly as I listened to him retell the tale.

And ta da, this is where the subtle little thing started happening. As he was talking I kept noticing his eyes darting down to my lower lip. After a few moments he lightly slipped into the conversation the fact that he wasn’t married. His eyes dropped down to my lips again. I stuck out my bottom lip just a tiny bit more in a pout. He started asking about my work schedule. I crossed my arms and his eyes went to my chest. He asked me again when he’d see me again, what hours I worked, would I be there in the morning?

I could have laughed out loud. This isn’t unusual, I do it pretty much every time someone comes into the holiday Inn. It’s just another word for customer service. You smile, they wink. You ask if they need anything, they ask what you’re willing to give. You tell them goodnight, they offer room keys. The men fidget and ask about the rings on my fingers and all you do is give them vague answers, jokes then point them in the direction of their room. Seeing so many people from all walks of life come in and out all day long really makes you pay attention to the way people act, their expressions, the sound of their voice as the tone changes. Or maybe it’s just me and how I get after being stuck in the act of “friendly young woman who would love to talk and help you out” for eight hours. I do nothing but converse and people-watch for at least five hours of that time.

And my allotted computer time is up. With work, school, and some sleep I’ve figured that I have about an hour a day of ‘free’ time, where I get to eat, dress, and check my e-mail. If I stay on-line any longer I’ll be cutting into my scheduled sleep time.

Bah.

And here's to hoping I can come up with something a little more meaty for my next blue-moon update.

And just 'cause... well... it's so annoying and so right!
http://www.moviecliches.com/

And (yes, I know it's my third one) because I'm adding "Disposable Friend" to my Christmas list.
http://www.disposablefriends.com/main.html