The girl at the hair salon looked at me up and down and trotted off to get some magazines for my entertainment. She placed two magazines on the little counter. I got a copy of FHM and a copy of the Chinese style magazine Nu You.
It must have been the camouflage shorts that made me look like a dyke.
It must have been my ineffective Chinese style that made me look like I needed to read Nu You.
It must have been me.
She must have been sniggering when I got up to exchange the magazines for ones I could read.
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