Last week a friend here in Jakarta messaged me to help her out. She wanted me to help her meet and entertain someone at the airport between their flights. That person? Mickey Rourke. My jaw dropped open at this point. I'm sorry, come again? She was helping a mutual friend out. He had some three-plus hours in Jakarta before his flight to ***** (city in Indonesia) where he is filming. My first reaction was "why not send one of the millions (literally) of Indonesian girls to entertain him?" He wants someone to talk to. Hmmmmm. Okaaaay.
We showed up at the airport an hour before the appointed time and were plenty ready. Julia wasn't sure she'd be able to pick him out. The immigration guy took us all the way out the the gate to meet him and let me say, it is so nice to jump lines. With Julia at my elbow and my heart pounding, I saw him coming down the gateway and walked up to him. "Mickey Rourke?" "Yea" "I'm Melissa, we'll be taking care of you today" and away we went. We caught JP (best friend) and Bora (PA) as well and then the six of us headed for another terminal. We settled in a private room in a lounge and settled in for the wait.
They are genuinely cool guys, all three of them. I got to talk rugby with Mickey. He's pulling for Wales as he's doing some research on one of their past players. Oh, an he knows someone who knows Sonny Bill Williams, an All Black and my future husband. I'm within six degrees of separation. I got to talk MLB playoffs with JP. I saw photos of their chihuahuas, five between the two of them. I answered questions about Indonesia and ******. I traded money with JP so he had some Rupiah. I saw Mickey in his boxers for a foot reflexi massage. The time flew and we had a blast. In Jakarta, I met Mickey Rourke. It still sounds so cool to say.
In other news, I've got a Syrian who was calling three times a day. The trouble is he only speaks about twelve words of English, and about the same number in Indonesian. I'm not sure what the real point of calling someone is when that's the case. He was very sweet, but after three days of having the same conversation I gave up and stopped answering. What was the conversation you ask?
12: Hi. I miss you.
Me: How are you? Apa Kabar?
Me: How's Bandung?
12: Nothing. Bandung nothing.
Me: Oh. That's too bad.
Several seconds that feel like eons of hemming and hawing.
12: I miss you.
Me: Ok. I miss you too.
12: Tomorrow. . . . . . .you tomorrow?
Me: I work tomorrow, very early.
12: Oh I miss you. bye
It makes me sigh wearily just recounting it. I think I shook him by not showing up at the club where we met over the weekend. It was nice to have some attention, though there wasn't any of the competition I complained about in a post last week. I just can't do needy. I won't.
The latest edition of the Bad Korean to English Translations: