Right now, this very second, I could have been gazing at the melting spires of the Temple of Heaven. I could have been taking a deep and satisfying siesta. I could have been eating Roasted Duck, drinking Chinese Green Tea, heading for the CCTV tower or even the Bird Nest.

Oh and the money I could have made. Money which worth a month’s salary of a common person.escort Money towards a down payment. And the baubles that would have been bought for me. And the luxury I would have luxuriated in—

I have to stop here.

Beijing escortwas being brought to me courtesy of Z, a regular, who thought it would be nice to make his business trip in Beijing one of pleasure as well. He would have been a well companion too. He’d have given me some time to myself. He’d have wanted to go to all the must-see place, clubs and shops in Beijing.

But here’s the problem. He would have also wanted to go to restaurants with me.

The thing is, Z has an eating disorder. Okay, not really. But I certainly have an eating disorder just watching him.

First he has to cut whatever he’s eating—everything—into tiny bite size pieces. Then he systematically will down each and every bite one at a time until he clears the plate. Then he will take a piece of bread and clean the plate even more.

And then he’ll reach for mine. And he does the same thing with the small little bites all over again.

The small bites even apply to butter, which he cuts to fit his morsels exactly. Oh and I forgot to add? He wipes his mouth with his napkin after each and every one.

It is in a word maddening.

I can deal with it. I can deal with it for one meal at a time. But not three a day for five days. I seriously think I would kill him.

I know it’s petty. I know I shouldn’t let it bother me. I know I should have my head shrunk. But seriously, the whole thing makes me want to throttle him, makes me want to scream at the top of my lungs, “FOR GOD’S SAKE EAT NORMALLY!” and then poke him with a fork over and over again until he cries Uncle.

And here I thought myself evolved.