Me & Malcolm X – We Both Had a Dream (I think)

Ohmygoodness, what an exciting and meaningful evening it was on Friday! True to my word, I organised a passionate feminist mission to address the Mrs Expat Singapore beauty pageant.

Will gave me a hand and was abso amazo. When we met up last week (nothing happened! just a v nice evening between friends, dear readers), he told me that his wife, Michelle, was a participant (LOLOL, she kept that one quiet!!), so he needed to wear a disguise.

Enlisting the help of Max and Milly, I produced some powerful placards – just like the suffragettes in whose footsteps I am honoured to tread – and together with Will, we made a spectacle of ourselves. We definitely put my point across!

FullSizeRender       Placard1

 We arrived at the venue entrance at 6.30 for the beginning of the event. Will disappeared suddenly, but I marched up and down with my placard as people arrived. I got moved along, to a point farther away from the entrance, but I continued to march.

Next thing I noticed was that Doom and Gloom Expat Wifey had turned up, also with a placard! What now, now?? She attempted to march alongside me, but, not wanting to be associated with her dullness, I zigzagged my way around her path, doubling back on myself where necessary.

Once everyone was inside, Will came back, still wearing his excellent disguise. He explained that he had needed to take an important work call. His dedication to his work is impressive. It reminds me of how I was, when I had a job.

Still avoiding Mrs D & G, Will and I continued to make a statement, loud and clear.

Then an official-looking chap came over and said, “Sorry, but if you persist in this behaviour, you may be fined or even arrested.”

I thought, hell no, this is far less than the suffragettes had to contend with, so while Will stalled him, I started quietly singing We Shall Not Be Moved. Fumbling through my (Chloë) bag for the roll of duct tape I’d brought along, I proceeded to tape myself to the railings of the nearest taxi stand. Once I was properly covered in tape, I let my song grow louder until I was shouting at the top of my voice.

Next, unfortunately, the official chap called for back-up, and within 30 seconds a bunch of coppas had arrived. Argh!! But I thought, if I’m going down then I’m going down in flames! So I took my top off to reveal what I had written earlier across my boobs and tum with permanent marker: SAY NO TO THE OBJECTIFICATION OF EXPAT WOMEN. Will had gone again because, as he later explained, he had another v important call.

So there I was, naked from the waist up, surrounded by coppas, and the doom and gloom expat wife woman. The oldest one told me off like I was a naughty schoolgirl, while the younger ones cut the tape, and D & G woman wrapped her beige pashmina around me. I struggled during the wrapping – get that effing bla colour off me, bitch! – but she must do more press-ups than me because she forced that thing around me until I was on the verge of suffocation.

Then Will turned up, cool as a cucumber, bless him, and while the oldest coppa was reading me my rights, he opened his wallet and started to peel off $100 notes.

“So what’s the fine, Sir?”, Will asked the coppa.

“$1,500 if she stops now, but you cannot pay in cash. Fill out this form with your payment details. I will need to see your IC”, came the reply.

So, Will gave the charming coppa what he asked for, and filled out the form. Which was sweet, I thought. I put my top back on, batting away D & G woman’s nightmarish pashmina, and asking her to please cease and desist with her interferment of my mission.

Once we were free to go, I felt totes elated with the stand we had taken. So when Will suggested a visit to the casino, I was IN!! I love a bit of roulette. I didn’t particularly want Mrs D & G to tag along, but, annoyingly, she did. Will said, “the more, the merrier”. Hmmmmmm. (Doesn’t he realise how dullsville this woman is??)

Even more annoyingly, she kept winning! Thankfully, after a few wins she cashed out, and said she had to get home. Ok then, G’BYE sweets!!

Will and I went up to the terrace at Sky on 57. He was really interested in hearing more about my blogging experiences, so I shared those with him. Nice because Don is really not interested at all, and Will was v sympathetic about that. He told me a bit more about his marriage and how awful it is. Poor guy : ( Michelle sounds like a truly awful person to have to live with, and parent with, in the long-term, as gorgeous as she is. (Seriously, she looks like Angelina, and I’m not kidding.)

When he put his arm around me, it wasn’t like he was making a pass at me. Not at all. It felt more like we had been through an intense shared experience tonight, battling together on behalf of womankind. And when he put his hand on my thigh, that was just what he felt like doing in the moment, overwhelmed perhaps by my great beauty and feminine energy. So when he kissed me, it didn’t feel out of the ordinary. I am v attractive, so I totes understand. My hair was also looking awesomeness.

All in all, a hugely successful night. I got my point across, and Will learned a lot about WordPress.

THEN, dear readers, the weirdest thing ever happened! I woke up and it seems like maybe I dreamt the whole thing!! Argh! What was super-bizarro though was that there was a fake beard duct taped between my legs. How’d that get there??

5 thoughts on “Me & Malcolm X – We Both Had a Dream (I think)

  1. Pingback: Wait-a-minute! Not All Expats are A-Holes!! | Diary of an Expat Somebody

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  5. Pingback: Ass IF Don Would Do That! | Diary of an Expat Somebody

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