of life, of love, of donkey

Today, I wanna talk about donkeys.

Have you ever seen a donkey?

They’re fucking cute.

It’s like a horse, but stupid, in an endearing way. Kinda like Sarah Jessica Parker.

Anyway, I don't know where donkeys are native to but probably not the shit city I lived in when I was in China. A small city, with a meager population of 7.2 million.

I digress.

So small, in fact, that I would walk by a donkey tethered in the street every day on my way to work. I just had to accept it as normal. OK, there's a donkey here. This must be common.

This donkey was cute, but no Sarah Jessica Parker.

However, his personality was much better than hers.

He’d amble over to me every day when I walked by, hang his head low and wait bashfully until I'd pet him. He'd stomp his foot a bit if I got him behind the ears. He had a black coat, a cute white nose and big pointy ears.

So, every day I would pet my donkey. He would get excited when he saw me. I never had to tell him to shut up and get out of my face. A great friend. It even became my nickname among both the Chinese and foreign staff at work. I was “Donkey Man.”

Charming.

As the year came to a close, the accountant at work woke up and realized we had been very successful. They decided to throw a banquet to celebrate our success. I was like hot damn free food!

It was winter so when I walked to work that evening to meet everyone and didn’t see my donkey I figured he was back inside to get out of the cold. The banquet was a blast. The food was Northern Chinese, which means no sticky sugary sauces. Spicy, salty, sour and unforgiving. We had vegetables of all kinds, fish by the dozen, and the grand finale was a terrine of some sort, cooked, chilled and sliced thinly as sort of a refresher after all the oily main dishes.

It was so good. Usually I need to eat everything extremely spicy or it’s just boring, but this was good without. My boss Jocelyn, smiling and happy, asked me if I liked the beef. I said it was very good and piously thanked her for her generosity. She then gave a toast to the company, and everyone raucously clinked glasses and celebrated a very good year.

After it calmed down a bit, Jocelyn moved her chair closer to mine. Maggie, Evelyn and Eunice also came close.

Did I do something wrong?

Was I fired?

Why are they all staring at me and smiling?

They aren’t saying anything.

I start vigorously licking my teeth to try to clear food?

Then, they speak.

“Hello, Kevin.”

“…”

“You know the beef?”

“Yeah?”

“Glad you liked it.”

I am sweating like a Jew in Saudi Arabia.

“Yeah…”

“It wasn’t beef.”

Oh them! They're probably trying to warn me that it was pork. They all think I’m such an observant Jew. I just say that so I don’t have to eat pickled jellyfish or sea cucumber.

“Oh it’s ok. I have pork sometimes. Don’t worry about it.”

Giggling. GIGGLING. GIGGLING???

“It wasn’t pork.”

“Oh…”

“It was donkey.”

And then the big boss Joyce looked at me.

She spoke about ½ a word of English. With unblinking eye contact, she said, “Your Donkey.”

She learned those words just to say that to me. Flashbacks. Everything was falling into place. Oh God. My donkey wasn’t nuzzling some hay, dreaming about fields of golden grain. He was on my plate.

Actually, no, he was in my stomach. I’d finished every bite.

Everyone was laughing, and I felt about as thrilled as a kid on Yom Kippur. My expression must’ve looked grim because they said, “What? You didn’t know?? This is a donkey restaurant! Read the sign!”

Oh. My. God. It literally says, “Donkey Meat Take Out.” The donkey was an edible mascot. Live advertising. For purchase for special occasions, like end of year banquets. I was speechless. In China, if you meet anyone over the age of 60, they lived through one of the greatest famines the world has ever seen. Tens of millions of people died of hunger. American sensitivities about food sources are not well understood. I get it.

It was actually a huge gesture of kindness on their part, and they knew there’d be another donkey the next day for me to play with. I couldn’t be upset.

But I would never play with the other donkeys that followed.

They were not my donkey.

I loved, I lost, and I ate, but I will never forget.

A donkey.

The donkey.

My donkey.

I wish I’d given him a name.