My Son Danny
I want to tell you about my son Danny. He was the most talented of all my children. Danny’s mother was Mixama. She was a woman I met while I was trying to get a visa for Australia. She worked in the Australian embassy in Ulan Bator, the capital of Mongolia. You probably think this is all a pack of lies, but believe me it’s true. Anyway, the Australian embassy was really giving me the run around. Week after week went by and I still didn’t have my visa. I was really getting fed up with it so I decided to drop by the embassy after work and try to find out why it was taking so long. I asked to speak with someone in charge and a secretary told me to go to Room 204. I knocked. I was really worked up and I was ready to go ballistic.
“Come in,” said a woman’s voice. I walked in. Sitting across from the room behind a desk was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.
“What seems to be the problem?” she asked.
“I want to find out why it’s taking so long to get a visa,” I answered. “You people really need to get your shit together.” She asked for my name and address and checked her computer.
“It’s going to take another week,” she said. “Or maybe another month.”
“What? What is this shit? By the time I get this visa I will be an old man! This is the last straw! What the hell is your problem? I applied for a visa five weeks ago! This is ridiculous!”
“I’m sorry, the Australian government cut our budget. We had to lay off most of our workers. The government is planning on pulling out of Mongolia next year. Everything here is a mess. The paper work keeps piling up. Look, I know you’re uptight, but we’re doing the best we can. A handsome man like you should be more patient.” A handsome man? I didn’t think I was that handsome, but this woman obviously did.
“What’s a beautiful woman like you doing in a place like this? I asked.
“I’m looking for a handsome, strong, intelligent, well-endowed man like you to hold me, to love me, to caress me, and to teach me what it really means to be a woman. I’m looking for a man that’s a MAN.”
“Oh,” I said. “Well, good luck. I hope you find him.”
“Can you read my mind?” she asked.
“What are you getting at? What do you mean?”
“I mean you are the perfect man for me. Just look in the mirror over there,” she said. I looked in the mirror at myself and smiled.
“That’s right,” she said. “Now meet me tonight at the Aleesun Disco. My name’s Mixama.”
“Mixama? You’re name’s Mixama?”
“Yes, why, do you think it’s a strange name?”
“No, it’s just that…your name is…….your name is…….”
“Yes………”
“You’re an M woman.”
“And you’re an E man.”
“Ahhhh…”
“Ohhhh….”
The disco was pretty far from my house. I thought I was going to be late, but I made good time and got there five minutes early. Mixama was waiting for me. We slow danced for hours. People were giving us strange looks, but we didn’t care. When the disco closed, I drove Mixama home.
