Toilets, Giants and Nazis.

My flat-mate is away back in Scotland visiting his family so I’m home alone at the moment – it’s awesome.  I can now sing in the shower without reprimand and watch all the miserable war movies I’ve been storing up over the past 9 months.  Talking of which, I think I freaked out our maid (everyone has one here, it’s quite normal and extremely recommended) as one time she was mopping around my lazy arse while I watched a Nazi documentary.  It was her first day.  The poor woman thought she was being paid to clean the dishes of a white supremacist.  The next week she came round I made sure I was watching The Cosby Show.

Talking of groundbreaking comedy, our new American work colleague has got me into all sorts of good stuff, notably The Daily Show, Real Time with Bill Maher and the legendary Stephen Colbert.  Our new American colleague is also 6 feet 7 inches.  This is exactly a foot taller than me (I round myself up from 6-and-a-half inches to 7).  Coupled with my equally tiny Australian workmate, when we hit a bar together it looks like dad is taking his two sons for their first pint.  He’s so much taller than us that if the music is loud somewhere and we’re all standing, we literally can’t communicate without Treebeard having to stoop like he’s under fire.  I sometimes think we’d be better off using our mobiles.  He’s also so tall that if kids at school run into him they inevitably head-butt him in the balls.  Ah, the joys of being short.  Additionally, the school toilet, which was evidently designed for midget chinese kids, is so lacking in headroom American Matt has to bow like he’s in a dojo just to take a leak.  Again, my head doesn’t even touch the ceiling.

The toilet has an interesting design flaw in that it is under the stairs, and between the landing mid-way down the stairs and the window, lies a sizable open space directly above whoever is doing their business.  Of course, being a Chinese toilet it’s a squatter job.  Of course, being a dick head, I have introduced the tradition of pouring water on to any foreigner daring to do a squat.  Nothing makes my day more than seeing Aussie Ben climb the stairs back to class with a soaking T-shirt and a miserable face.  It has now reached a point where teachers must wait for the perfect moment when everyone is away or taking a class that they can then rush downstairs and fire off a quick bum torpedo.  It’s a fabulous place to work.

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