Issuu

The Inbetweeners (Hong Kong) “I am running late,” she said and she pulled the phone away and spoke in Cantonese to her cab driver. I laughed. “When are you ever on time? You remind me of me.” I heard her smile. “Where are you now?” “I am in Causeway… Point…” And her voice trailed off as if to see if I caught that there was no place in Hong Kong called Causeway Point. I laughed again. “Wow, I have never heard of a place called Causeway Point. But I have heard of Causeway Bay and North Point. And both are very far from each other.” She laughed back. “Yeah, I am somewhere inbetween those two places.” “No worries. I will wait for you. When do you think you will arrive?” I asked. “I will be there in ten-ifteen minutes…” And I heard her smile again. “Okay again, I have heard of ten minutes and fifteen minutes but never ten-ifteen minutes.” “I will be there soon.” “Okay bye” And I hung up with her talking to her cab driver in Cantonese. Finally she ended up SMSing me that she was stuck in traffic and asked if we could reschedule the movie for later. Or another day. I called her back, “But you are still coming, right?’ “Of course.”

So I went to the front desk of the movie theatre and rearranged for another day. And then I called her and told her that we could meet closer to where her taxi was stuck. I felt like Margaritas and maybe we could meet at Coyotes? She agreed. So I hurried down to the MTR. And just as the train arrived, my phone vibrated. I picked it up and noticed two missed calls from her. I also had two SMS’s. One that said, “Don’t get on the train! I am here.” I called her back. “Oh my god. I am amazed you can get your clothes on in the morning!” We both laughed. “Where are you?” “I am by the taxi stand.” “Okay,” I said quickly. “Don’t go anywhere. Stay there. I will be there right away.” But when I got down there I couldn’t find her. I looked everywhere. So again, I called her. “Where are you?” “I am by the taxi stand!” “No you are not! I am by the taxi stand!” She paused. “Well I am inside by the taxi stand!” “How can you be by…” And just then I saw her looking around – and then she saw me and a smiled developed across her face. We both put her phones down. I met her and we both fell into laughter. I kissed both her cheeks. So she asked seriously, “Where do we go now?” I thought for a moment. “Hey lets just take the MTR and walk around and talk.” “Don’t you have your party you have to go tonight?” “Yeah but I would love to fill the time in-between with you.” She smiled and unconsciously our hands and fingers went out looking for one another and linked. Then we started walking.

Amit and I were sitting in Red Soho Restaurant watching the revelry of the Food and Wine festival going on around us in SoHo. We were putting our plans together for the new Thursday night variety show.

“I want this show to be a place where people can unwind before Fridays. Where everyone can laugh about the conflicts of relationships and stereotypes and also where women can come and feel empowered.” Amit crossed his arms. “Is this a comedy show or a political movement?” He laughed. “Maybe both.” I said seriously. “Well simple man. I want to do this simple first and give it the air it needs to breathe and expand later. Because we both have day jobs.” I lifted my glass of white wine. And offered up a toast. “To our future new day job.” He agreed. “I don’t think people understand that the best of comedy comes from a very, very dark place. So dark sometimes it hurts to talk about. So instead we make a joke out of it. It feels good to put something so painful out there and have it covered and hidden away with laughter.” Amit nodded. “Me as well. The weekend before I went up for my first Open Mic that was one of the darkest places I have been in a long, long time.” We looked down at a clown that was pushing up the hill from Hollywood Road to Staunton Street. “When did you start doing this?” “January - this year.” “Yeah, I remember seeing your comedy debut.” “That was in April. And yours?” “Yeah, mine was a month afterwards – May first.” And I finished off my salad. “Hey man, you want to walk around and see what’s going on with this festival?’ “Yeah.” And with that, we toasted one more time and gulped down the reminder of our wine. And outside, the festivities were in full swing. The streets of Elgin and Staunton were closed. There were jugglers, acrobatic dancers, a man on stilts, and comedic opera singers.

“I really understand your situation at the comedy festival – your Mrs. Jones material. I was doing the same thing. The woman I love is the one I talk about in my routine. She is the girlfriend who broke up with me. And it’s like everyone else I date from the time I see her to the next time I see her – are the in-betweeners.” “No one is as real as her.” “Yeah, she is the one that gets me. Like completely. I don’t laugh as much as I am with her. I have never felt like I wanted somebody as much as I wanted her. And its crazy – my friends, no body understands it.” “But you understand it, and that’s all that matters.” And we took to the hill in front of the Corner Shop to get up to Elgin Street. “Where is she?” “She is in Bombay.” “What happened?” “She got married to someone else.” We both went quiet. Then I suggested, “Let’s get a drink.” “I second that.” And we went to the bar and restaurant across the street from TakeOut Comedy and ordered two cups of Sangria to go. Outside we watched as the man on stilts was jumping behind a woman standing over a sales table and he pretended to reach out and touch her. A crowd developed around laughing. Then the woman felt something was amiss and turned around. The man on the stilts quickly leaped and disappeared into the crowd. “Yeah, I tried seriously to date others but I can’t get her out of my head. She screwed me up somehow.” “You think it’s because we can’t have them?” “No. There are a lot of women I can’t have. But there’s something about being with her.” I interrupted, “Its like for me - I feel like I am me. I don’t have to hide who I am. Others I have to be what they want me to be. I have to approach them from the way they see me. But with her, I just am.”

“But what sucks is – there are a lot of girls who like us in the meantime. But I can’t give them everything. And sometimes – I am just thinking about her – instead. But I am looking at someone else. Fucked up ain’t it?” “No, I got you. Either you have to shoot it in the head. Shoot yourself in the head. Or make it happen.” “Well, I can’t make it happen. She’s married. So that means its over.” “Or she helped you shoot it in the head.” “Or I shoot myself in the head.” And he laughed. “No man – I am loving doing comedy too much.” We walked more looking at the people scattered throughout Soho. As we walked, a gorgeous Indian woman with a short cut blouse gave Amit a glance over. “Did you see that?” I said. Amit gave a sidwways grin. “Yeah man. I think she just eye fucked me.” “Just like in ‘The Wedding Crashers.’”. “Vince Vaughn is the bomb.” Amit said. We went quiet. I began, “She told me the other day – I am the only guy who has ever pursued her this long. She is afraid that once she lets her guard down and I get her – then it’s over for me. The thrill of getting her is over. But actually, it’s the opposite – relationships are hard. I just want the opportunity to try with her. Build something. And yeah, if it’s a fantasy in my head, or in her head, we discover that together. And then we can move on.” “So what do you do now?” “I am in-between.” “And you pass the time with in-betweeners.” Amit said taking a sip from his paper cup of Sangria. “Or worse yet, maybe we are their in-betweeners.” Amit looked over at me confused. “What you mean?” “We get them through the regular rules, the accepted cultural norms, the family ordained marriage, the kids –and they bridge it with the passion we secretly pour into them.

Everyone woman has two chambers in their heart – lust and love. And maybe they are afraid to find someone or don’t believe they can find someone who fills both.” I stopped to sip on my Sangria. “Women are bitches,” Amit put out there and we laughed together. “I guess one day we will look back on these days and say this was the best time of our lives,” I said. “Yeah, and wonder why we were wasting our time waiting for women who don’t want us back.” “Or wondering why it took them so long to realize we did.” And we started walking down the hill again back to Staunton Street to start again. “But you know – this isn’t new. Did you ever see ‘Gone with the Wind’?” I asked. “Yeah man. Remember I have sisters. I watched it a six times starting when I was ten years old and when it ended the last time, I found out I was twenty-two years old! That movie is fucking long!” I laughed. “Well, remember Rhett Butler pursued Scarlet in the same way and for years. And finally, when Scarlet finally loved Rhett, it was too late.” “So I am waiting for my ‘frankly, Scarlet I don’t give a damn’ moment.” “Yep.” I said. “But until then we are lost in-between.”