BoB

My colleague was having shoot today and I had my own business at the studio. There was a congregration of models by the make-up room having lunch. Some of them beautiful, most of them not. One particularly beautiful male strut next to me (of which we shall christen him as 'Bob' - 'Bold oh-so Beautiful'):

BOB: "Where's your accent from?"
ME: "Er ... Malaysia?"
BOB: "But it sounds like you got it from somewhere? Did you study overseas?"
ME: "Australia for two years doesn't give me a reason to have one."
BOB: "Well, it sounds kinda mixed."
ME: "You have an accent. You are of mixed parentage?"
BOB: "I'm mixed Italian with yada yada yada yada. (Pause) Are you mix?"
ME: (- -)* (Yes, you beautiful but stupid man, I'm Japanese American Australian Hokkien) "No."
BOB: "Hey, does this PC (though it's a MAC) go online?
ME: "Yes, it does. Do you need to use it?" (Sure, go right ahead while I stand aside and let you dwiddle with the computer eventhough I have 5 more CDs of work to burn.)
BOB: "I just want to show you my pictures."
ME: "There's no need. I know what you look like already." (At this point I think I might have crushed his ego like a bulldozer)
BOB: *fiddle *fiddle *fiddle* "Oh, can't get through the link. Hold on, there's another way... I know this sounds vain but google me."
ME: (*_*) *steps away from BoB before given the opportunity to strangle his slender fragile neck and be charged for homicide*

Models may be good-lookers and probably not-so-dumb but GAWD do they have the ego the size of Texas.

Time to upgrade my dozer.