All my bags are packed

A young man who seemingly has it all, finds himself on the brink of suicide as he can't contemplate another day of living in a city which has sapped all the life out of him. To add to his stress, his relationship with his father who he once and still does idolise, has all but crumbled. There's not many options left and on the brink of his 30th birthday he decides to travel abroad in order to escape the madness and restore his sanity. Where shall I go?

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6. Lisa the milf

That evening I met a woman called Lisa, she was the daughter of a satisfied customer I had installed a kitchen for. Her family and I got on extremely well and so they kindly put me in touch with Lisa, who lived and worked in Hong Kong and would act as my personal chaperone for the evening. We met in Times Square at 8:30 that evening outside a department store called Lane Crawford. I was told to look out for a woman in a checked shirt carrying a faded rose handbag, specific huh! I saw someone matching that description and so approached her. Low and behold it was Lisa; she seemed very nice and was unusual looking (in a good way) as she was half English and half Chinese. Her face went bright red as I introduced myself and we walked towards a taxi who whisked us off to a designated bar. We got on very well; she was about 40 years old but dressed very young. I’m not sure if that was for my benefit or hers but either way it wasn’t her strongest asset. We later moved onto to a back street after the initial bar and she then led me through a grimy door into a hippified style room that served an array of cocktails. It was weird to say the least but we were able to speak easier as the music wasn’t as loud as the previous bar. Without sounding arrogant I could tell she was flirting with me, I tried not to flirt back I was very aware this was a customer’s daughter and I felt that I was in business mode. On my way to the toilet I was confronted by a young guy who wouldn’t move out of the way when asked politely to do so. I then followed with “are you going to move or what.” He responded with an icy stare, at which point I just pushed passed him and went into the loo. As I got out he was waiting for me, the two or three minutes I was in there seemed to fill him with rage and I knew straight away I was going to be in trouble. As I made my way back to the table, he stepped in front of me and said, “a asshole, what’s your fucking problem” I could tell he was European, I just expressed by annoyance at asking him to move in a polite manner and him not moving a muscle. I then asked him where he was from, to which he replied Italy. With a big smile on my face I blurted the words “un ratcha, una fatcha” a saying dad had told me as a kid. It means one face, one race and refers to how Italians and Greeks look and act the same. He seemed to like this and so I shook it hand. I followed up with a “piechere di conocerti” “it’s a pleasure to meet you” and we parted with smiles. It got to about 1:30am and I decided I should bite the bullet and make an excuse for leaving as I had to get up early in the morning to make up for the wasted day I had just had. She asked me where I was planning on going and I replied ‘The Peak.’ Without hesitation she told me she was coming with me and how she could show me a whole different side of Hong Kong. I wasn’t too keen on the idea, however still being in business mode I felt it was a polite gesture on her behalf and so agreed to her coming.
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