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Friday, May 1, 2015

Noboko And Andrew: Cantaloupe

It's 4:15PM, Wednesday, September 8, 1993, and Noboko and I are off on a drive to Buddha-knows where, but I'm with her, and she's with me, and I'm about to suggest we elope to get married.

If I do that… ask her to elope (and she agrees), are we supposed to do it right away, like now? Or can we plan a little bit - get some nice clothes on, maybe go and buy a ring - and get married in a few day's time? Is that kosher?

I really haven't thought this through, but it doesn't hurt to see what she thinks… it's a way, at the very least, to gauge where she and I are at with regards to her father not wanting her to marry me.

Maybe I should wait until we have sex - she'll be so exhausted and happy, she'll agree no problem to whatever I say.

Or maybe I should ejaculate my question while she's in the throes or orgasmic delight, she'll agree to anything I ask of her as long… as… I… don't… stop… don't… stop…

I really did (and do) think like this.

Part of the problem is that when she arrived at Colin's place a few minutes ago, her jumping up and wrapping herself around me was a real turn-on, if you know what I mean… so I've got sex on the brain… even more-so than usual. 

As such, rather than wait until we arrive at whatever destination she has planned for us, thanks to the lack of bloodflow to the brain, I instead decide to ask her the all-important question while she's driving.

"Uh, Noboko… what do you think about you and I eloping?"

"Eloping… what does that mean?"

I hadn't counted on that. I forget, sometimes, that she doesn't know as much English as I think she does. 

Asking Noboko to marry me isn't that difficult a thing to do. I have previously presented her with a promise to be engaged ring, and have repeatedly told her that "I will marry you today, right now, if you want."

Usually I only feel that way about sex and other women, but such was that hold she had on me.

"Eloping? To elope means you and I agree to get married - but to do so by being quiet about it… just going off and getting married."

"So no big wedding?"

Hmmm… I never thought to consider she might want a big ol fancy wedding. Sometimes she seems the type, and other times, she doesn't.

No… that was stupid of me… Noboko enjoys the romantic side I bring to the man-table.

I enjoy spoiling her, and it is evident that she enjoys being spoiled - but not to the point where its ugly - you know what I mean?

She enjoys the teddy bear, the flowers, me holding the door open, or a chair out, or walking on the outside part nearest the road (I forgot that once - and was actually called on it by another woman - wha? Another woman?! That was later… but trust me, that's something I'll never forget again… again… I had bloodflow issues… )… Noboko enjoys being treated like a princess - perhaps because people and I means guys, have only just wanted to screw her… and she knew it, and rebelled against it.

So… elopement…

"Uh… no… not at the time… I mean, if we eloped and got married, we could still have a big wedding ceremony afterwards… "

"Mm… but no big wedding…."

"I can see the idea doesn't exactly thrill you…"

"Not really," she says - her eyes never leaving the road in front of her.

"But," she continues, "I do like the idea of us getting married and then seeing what my father would do to us… well, to you, I suppose."

"Whaddya mean 'to me?' He's not violent is he?"

"Well, he was a judo player when he was in school…"

"What, like during the Edo-jidai (The Edo era was from around 1603-1868)?" I ask sarcastically.

"Plus he also does kyudo."

Japanese archery. He does Japanese archery.

I did Japanese archery. Plus I did judo.

He's headstrong. I'm headstrong.

I don't want to have have sex with Noboko's mom, however… so we're different there.

But still… is Noboko dating her father?

"Don't worry," she begins, "He would kill me first, then you, and then himself."

"How is he going to kill himself with a bow and arrow?" I ask in mock humor while also remembering how I once nearly killed myself with the bow and arrow I was holding.

"Look," I continue, "how can we get a proper answer here? You and I love each other, right?"

"Mm," she says with a strong nod of the head and then a wicked glance and smile at me that wrinkles the skin around her peepers.

It's okay… I know that "Mm" of hers… it's what she says and does when a decision is definite or quite strong.

"Would you like to spend the rest of your life with me and raise a family?"

"How many kids?"

There is no negative to that answer of hers.

By asking about kids, it precludes any question of us being together, because to have kids in Japan implies we are together.

I don't believe in divorce. I mean… I know it exists, but I'd rather be unhappy than be divorced. I know that doesn't make sense… it doesn't even make sense when I say it out loud (shhh)…

"How many kids?" I wonder… never blurt the first thing that comes to one's mind here. A carefully worded question is in order.

"How many kids do you think we should have, Noboko?"

"Six… no seven."

Is she kidding? Who can afford to raise that many kids? Besides, I like her trim and petite figure... but it could mean we'd be doing it a lot after marriage.

"That many?" I ask. "Why?"

"Because it means we are having lots of sex," she says still looking straight ahead, though I can see the left corner of her mouth curl up in a smile.

"Yeah… six or seven times… "

"I don't think my parents have had sex since they had my brother and me," she implies.

"Really… how can you even say something like that? Look… I'm not the biggest fan of your dad simply because he's trying to drive a wedge between us (I don't think Noboko knows what a wedge is, but she gets the gist)… but there is no way in Hell you can tell me for certain your parents have only had sex two times in what 29 years!"

"… "

Crap… now what have I done?

"Look… you just mean they don't appear to be all huggy and kissy like we are, right?"

"Yes… I have never seen them be…  romantic."

"That's good, Noboko. Do you really want to see your parents all over each other?"

"Yes."

Yes? Okay… time to come to her old man's defense…

"Your dad is Japanese… and a smart and serious man… are they supposed to show a romantic side?" I ask naively….

"You do."

"I'm hardly serious all the time, hardly ever… but you and both know that when we are alone, we are two completely different people than when other people are around," I explain.

"True… but you have always been romantic," she states. "You wrote me a haiku the first time we met."

That's true… when a man writes something for a woman, it's because he has to. His soul demands it.

I wrote this haiku for her:

Her beautiful eyes
Seem to hypnotize my soul
Capturing my heart.

"Do you still have that poem I gave to you?"

"No… I threw it out because I thought you had got some…"

"Yeah, yeah… never mind about that," I interject.

That was when we had just met and when she believed some rumors that I was the type of guy to get some Japanese woman pregnant and then not care.

Even if I had not written it down myself back in 1993, I would never have forgotten the poem. To me, besides the event being epic in my life, and giving me something to discuss 22 years later with you all, I wrote the damn thing in under 30 seconds - it poured out of me without concern that it wouldn't fit the 5-7-5 syllables per line haiku rule… though what slowed me down was me counting it out again with my left-hand fingers just to make sure I wasn't deceiving myself.

"Well… who am I to argue with the lady? That was a good haiku, wasn't it?"

"I will always remember it, I hope," she says and places her hand atop mine.

I casually move her hand onto my groin, which causes her to lightly swear at me in Japanese… but she doesn't move her hand.

We each have funny ways of being romantic, I suppose.

Somewhere unslapped,
Andrew Joseph
PS: I am pretty darn sure my mother would have killed me had I denied her a chance to help us plan a big wedding... or any wedding, regardless of the size... an elopement - oh man... she would have understood why, but I'm sure she would have been as disappointed in me as Noboko's father would have been in having me as a son-in-law. Brrrrrrr.
PPS: Title is from the classic joke:
Knock-Knock!
...
(That's your cue to say "Who's there?")
Cantaloupe!
...
(Again... your turn to ask "Cantaloupe who?")
Cantaloupe without a girl!
PPPS: I'm here all week folks. Try the veal, and don't forget TIPS to your waitress!
PPPPS: Noboko was a lot of great things, but blessed with cantaloupes... no... not even close... not important to me, unless you have'em, of course. 
PPPPPS: Now maybe this was just something I read in an old Richie Rich comic book, but TIPS is an acronym meaning "To Insure Prompt Service"... as such, it should always be spelled "tips" and not 'tip', which will just cause things to fall. Personally, it should be "Ensure" not "Insure". TEPS.

 




   

   

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