Website transferred to a new domain name is: https://www.sex-shoponline.net/truyen-sex if you want to send the story, please send it to email [email protected]!
The story begins one morning, while I was still sleeping, the alarm bell rang loudly throughout the room…
“Announcement, it’s now… 7 hours 1 minute! Announcement, it’s now… 7 hours 1 minute! Please notify…”.
I woke up, scrambled to my feet, and went to my desk. On the table, the old-fashioned Nokia phone vibrated, playing a female voice: “Please inform, it is now…”
Like a programmed machine, I turned off the alarm, reset the alarm to 7:30, then… climbed into bed again. You might say “why didn’t you set the bell at 7:30 in the first place?”, but that’s how I am. Every night before I go to bed, I always draft a script that I will wake up at 7.01 am, do personal hygiene, have a delicious breakfast, sit and drink coffee and then go to work.
Of course, I never made that plan the next morning. It’s always an extra thirty minutes of sleep, lazily running downstairs to brush my teeth, wash my face, swallow a bowl of shrimp noodles smelling of preservatives, sometimes I don’t want to eat and then take my car to work.
When I was in school and my mother worked as an alarm clock, such a thing never happened. Either get up, or have to listen to her give her a rotten eardrum if she sees me slouching in bed for more than five minutes.
Right at 7:30, the old Nokia phone rang loudly. Honestly, I just wish the phone was right next to the bed to turn off the alarm to go back to sleep. I really intend to do it, fortunately my mind reminds me that the phone is about to run out of money, the motorbike is about to run out of gas, the risk of a long-term lunch starvation, this month is about to end and I still haven’t found any customers. . Fortunately, I live with my parents, so dinner is không tính tiền, even though I feel ashamed that I can’t contribute to the family’s meals. I woke up in a mood of both humiliation and sleepiness, turned off the bell and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face.
The mirror in the bathroom shows a boy with the appearance: crab hair, dark circles under his eyes due to both lack of sleep and regular glasses (I’m very nearsighted), his face is a bit thin, neither beautiful nor ugly; He is of average stature, slightly taller than 1m7, just qualified to be a bank employee. In short, I’m an ordinary guy, not outstanding, not talented, only a small wish that at the end of the month, my wallet will always be full, even though it will shrink quickly and have to ask for more money from my parents. .
Hey! Twenty-three years old with that condition, you can call me a jerk – if you’re successful, you can also chuckle: it’s normal – if you understand. In fact, every twenty-three-year-old boy after graduating from school dreams of becoming a man or woman, at least he must be decent himself. But you will naturally know that life only gives satisfaction to the few, and I am the majority.
Brushing my teeth, washing my face a little, lamenting myself a little, I looked for food. It sounds like a lot of options, but it’s really just instant noodles. About a year ago, I gave up the habit of eating out. Not because of food hygiene problems! Real! Living for twenty years eating all kinds of toxic things on people, now switching to clean eating will not prolong your life much. But with the current state of the economy, trash has its value.
In the past, I loved pho very much, I ate a bowl every week; I still love pho now, but I don’t dare touch it once a year. There’s no such thing as “pho is a popular dish” as someone once said, it has become a luxury product, at least for me. Thirty thousand, that’s enough for me to do a lot of work instead of eating pho.
While slurping a bowl of noodles, I suddenly saw my father come down. I blinked at his double-row gait, then bent down to eat again. Dad turned on the TV, listened to the TV station babble about something about the economy, and then gently asked me:
– Come back for lunch?
I answered curtly:
– Sure is not.
– So remember to eat full rice. Choose a clean vật phẩm! – My father continued.
– Halo!
“Vong” not “yes” and I deliberately lengthened the last syllable. The word “halo” comes from a mixture of mixed emotions of a son with his father. Sometimes I love him, sometimes I want to smack him hard, that sort of thing. Sounds like a sultry teenage boy, doesn’t it? But I’m pretty sure I’ve passed that age long ago. It’s just that any boy has a problem with his father, mine is of the ‘serious’ category.
I always avoid talking to my father, except when asking for dinner or leaving the house. You know, every house, every scene! Because of that, in recent years, a thought has haunted me that when I have a child, I will become a copy of my father, and the boy will become a copy of myself now. Family tragedies often have a loop, and I fear that. But come to think of it, at least for the next ten years, I don’t want to be a father. Thinking about the scene where my parents raised a guy like me from childhood to when he struggled to destroy the village, I was afraid of getting married.
After eating the bowl of noodles, I climbed into the car to go to work, not forgetting to say hello to my parents. The car ran to the main road, I looked at the sky, at the clouds, at the crowd jostling back and forth, muttering the familiar sentence every first day of the week: “D.M, today is Monday!”.
The car drove forever and then arrived at the office. I mentioned above that I am over 1m7 tall and qualified to work in a bank, but in fact I do not work at a bank. Just a wish! I work at a small financial company, with money and loans, but in the eyes of the majority of people, it is much less prestigious than a banker. This is the social norm! No job is as precious as it is often said. You do not believe? Find a girlfriend, ask her to be your wife and release a supporting music model, then you will understand.
People often think of work related to money as boring and cold as money itself. But my work is not that bad, it is quite varied and not repetitive. Every day, I wait in front of the phone, make calls and advise on product introduction. Yes, I am a customer consultant. Surely anyone who works in this field knows an obvious paradox: you are the representative of the lending agency, you will give money to people who need money, but sometimes you have to bow to people. get a loan. They borrow, you get a salary; they don’t borrow, you pout. You will meet all kinds of people: people who need money to repair the house or buy household items, people who crave money like a drug addict but still make a majestic face “you borrow for fun, you lack money. LOL”, or people who want to borrow from one place to pay off a debt elsewhere (banking term called debt island).
I know what they borrow for, some of them don’t even hide their loan purposes, part of which is not good. But I don’t care, as long as they get a loan, I get money, regardless of good or bad intentions. So, the profession of consulting customers, what do you think about it? Marketing? Psychologist? Soft skills? Not so, people often call me and my colleagues by a more common name: scammers.
Hehe, I don’t mind those hateful words. Real! Among those people, most of them are hypocrites, they all want their son to become a fraud and then show off to their neighbors: his nephew is a bank employee.
But if you ask me if I like my current job, I will say: No. I always wonder why did I study this industry, choose this profession?
That question bothered me the most at lunch. The plate of rice is thirty thousand, the rice is nóng and cold, the food is good and sometimes bad, but it’s more bad. So I also pay less attention to food and spend time thinking about how to make a profile this month, how to find new customers next month.
The first four months, I think so. But in the fifth month, I thought about where to go out tonight, in the afternoon to go to coffee with my friend, on weekends to drink with the best guys. And after three months, I started to ask the question “why did I choose this profession?”.
Why do I follow this path?
Such questions often do not find answers. But one thing is for sure, in the future, if I don’t follow this career, I will just be a bad guy. Hehe, that’s ironic. You stick to a career not because you like it, but because it’s the only thing that gives you food. Solution? Dream! I sat there, hands on my temples, eyes fixed on the plate of rice, wishing I could turn back time. Billions of people around the world have the same dream as me, even scientists are trying to make it come true. It is said that there are holes where if only the accelerator is large enough, people can return to the past or to the future like traveling with the time machine of the cat Doraemon. When that wonderful piece of technology was born, no one knows, but it was definitely after I was lying in the chest. Always confirm it!
But if you could go back in time, what would you do?
It will be a long story and full of fairy flavor. But the fairy does not appear in the middle of the nóng afternoon, the plate of rice is cold, and the sleepiness closes the eyes. I quickly swallowed a pile of thirty thousand and then slipped back to the office, dozed off in the chair, waiting for a long afternoon ahead.
After work, I pulled the car out of the parking lot with my face as dirty as a mop. Bad records, can’t get new customers, reprimanded for sloppy work, jealous when co-workers are rewarded; All these things came crashing down on my head and made me angry. I hate the road home, I hate the flow of smoke-filled vehicles, I hate the bulky buses that encroach on the road, I hate the yellow shirt guys stalking the mirrorless riders.
The culmination was when I was hit in the head by an elderly woman driving a Soup Pu-Cup, and I went crazy and hated all women. Lots of traffic laws are in place, but none of them stop women from roaming the streets. dam
However, I don’t bring home my frustrations at work. I forbade myself to do that, because my father used to do it. Remember how Barney’s character from the series How I met your mother talked about the phenomenon of “cursing the chain”? The boss curses you, you curse your wife, the wife curses the child, the son curses the dog, the dog bites you. There! When you pour out your troubles on your family, the depression will be like a stab at you like a jolt. So when I walked in the door, I tried to put on a fresh face, nodding and nodding “still normal” to the question “how’s work?” of two grandparents. Besides, if something really happened, wouldn’t you want them to worry?
After I finished washing up, I spent all my time on the computer. Play games, listen to music, meet friends for coffee, read some new parts of a long story that I’m watching on TruyenTv.net
It sounds leisurely, but actually it doesn’t make my mind any happier. Playing games alone is boring, playing trực tuyến is full of children who are always cursing, going to TruyenTv.net to read long stories and then reading short stories, but short stories are full of fuck and love stories, waste tissues…
I don’t even bother chatting on facebook anymore; In the past, because I focused on talking trực tuyến, my communication skills in real life were terrible, the first month of work without customers was the result. Tired of sitting at the computer, I climbed into bed and went to sleep. Of course, I didn’t go to sleep right away, but opened my phone to read a promotional message to top up the card, hoping that tomorrow I would catch a customer who needed money badly, sometimes mumbling curses at the old woman “Pupu Cup” in the afternoon.
My first day of the week is over. And one thing is for sure, the next six days will end up like the first day of the week. Maybe on Sunday, I’ll hang out with my friends so I don’t get bored. Speaking of which, you probably understand my situation: single. Yes, here I am, twenty years of eating taro in the world and still have not fallen in love with a girl.
Even, no girl called me, maybe there are some “girls” who are old enough to ask for a loan procedure. Every time relatives come to play, they ask a question both familiar and very strange: “do you have a lover?”. I always answer with familiar reasons such as unstable work, or not yet the right age. The relatives only smiled faintly, looking at me with the eyes of a judge who understood the crooked words of the prisoner. Then the familiar songs started again: when I was your age, my son had a lot of kids running after him.
Without a relative, my mother has been constantly complaining about prostitutes lately. She kept thinking that I had to marry a woman a year, two or four years younger than me, and then I had to get married at twenty-seven. Honestly! I kept saying yes, yes, to please the old lady, but in my heart, I didn’t want to act like a machine. Am I the machine that by the age of twenty-seven must produce a boy (or a child)? God, I’m not a machine!
But ironically, the love story becomes the central issue in the story I am telling you. To be honest, I don’t know what love is, other than the rumors on the internet. I can’t hold a girl’s hand yet, what can I say, love?
But just because a guy is single, doesn’t mean he’s never been in love.
Tuổi 23
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Website transferred to a new domain name is: https://www.sex-shoponline.net/truyen-sex if you want to send the story, please send it to email [email protected]!
The story begins one morning, while I was still sleeping, the alarm bell rang loudly throughout the room…
“Announcement, it's now… 7 hours 1 minute! Announcement, it's now… 7 hours 1 minute! Please notify…”.
I woke up, scrambled to my feet, and went to my desk. On the table, the old-fashioned Nokia phone vibrated, playing a female voice: "Please inform, it is now..."
Like a programmed machine, I turned off the alarm, reset the alarm to 7:30, then… climbed into bed again. You might say "why didn't you set the bell at 7:30 in the first place?", but that's how I am. Every night before I go to bed, I always draft a script that I will wake up at 7.01 am, do personal hygiene, have a delicious breakfast, sit and drink coffee and then go to work.
Of course, I never made that plan the next morning. It's always an extra thirty minutes of sleep, lazily running downstairs to brush my teeth, wash my face, swallow a bowl of shrimp noodles smelling of preservatives, sometimes I don't want to eat and then take my car to work.
When I was in school and my mother worked as an alarm clock, such a thing never happened. Either get up, or have to listen to her give her a rotten eardrum if she sees me slouching in bed for more than five minutes.
Right at 7:30, the old Nokia phone rang loudly. Honestly, I just wish the phone was right next to the bed to turn off the alarm to go back to sleep. I really intend to do it, fortunately my mind reminds me that the phone is about to run out of money, the motorbike is about to run out of gas, the risk of a long-term lunch starvation, this month is about to end and I still haven't found any customers. . Fortunately, I live with my parents, so dinner is không tính tiền, even though I feel ashamed that I can't contribute to the family's meals. I woke up in a mood of both humiliation and sleepiness, turned off the bell and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face.
The mirror in the bathroom shows a boy with the appearance: crab hair, dark circles under his eyes due to both lack of sleep and regular glasses (I'm very nearsighted), his face is a bit thin, neither beautiful nor ugly; He is of average stature, slightly taller than 1m7, just qualified to be a bank employee. In short, I'm an ordinary guy, not outstanding, not talented, only a small wish that at the end of the month, my wallet will always be full, even though it will shrink quickly and have to ask for more money from my parents. .
Hey! Twenty-three years old with that condition, you can call me a jerk - if you're successful, you can also chuckle: it's normal - if you understand. In fact, every twenty-three-year-old boy after graduating from school dreams of becoming a man or woman, at least he must be decent himself. But you will naturally know that life only gives satisfaction to the few, and I am the majority.
Brushing my teeth, washing my face a little, lamenting myself a little, I looked for food. It sounds like a lot of options, but it's really just instant noodles. About a year ago, I gave up the habit of eating out. Not because of food hygiene problems! Real! Living for twenty years eating all kinds of toxic things on people, now switching to clean eating will not prolong your life much. But with the current state of the economy, trash has its value.
In the past, I loved pho very much, I ate a bowl every week; I still love pho now, but I don't dare touch it once a year. There's no such thing as "pho is a popular dish" as someone once said, it has become a luxury product, at least for me. Thirty thousand, that's enough for me to do a lot of work instead of eating pho.
While slurping a bowl of noodles, I suddenly saw my father come down. I blinked at his double-row gait, then bent down to eat again. Dad turned on the TV, listened to the TV station babble about something about the economy, and then gently asked me:
- Come back for lunch?
I answered curtly:
- Sure is not.
- So remember to eat full rice. Choose a clean vật phẩm! - My father continued.
– Halo!
“Vong” not “yes” and I deliberately lengthened the last syllable. The word "halo" comes from a mixture of mixed emotions of a son with his father. Sometimes I love him, sometimes I want to smack him hard, that sort of thing. Sounds like a sultry teenage boy, doesn't it? But I'm pretty sure I've passed that age long ago. It's just that any boy has a problem with his father, mine is of the 'serious' category.
I always avoid talking to my father, except when asking for dinner or leaving the house. You know, every house, every scene! Because of that, in recent years, a thought has haunted me that when I have a child, I will become a copy of my father, and the boy will become a copy of myself now. Family tragedies often have a loop, and I fear that. But come to think of it, at least for the next ten years, I don't want to be a father. Thinking about the scene where my parents raised a guy like me from childhood to when he struggled to destroy the village, I was afraid of getting married.
After eating the bowl of noodles, I climbed into the car to go to work, not forgetting to say hello to my parents. The car ran to the main road, I looked at the sky, at the clouds, at the crowd jostling back and forth, muttering the familiar sentence every first day of the week: "D.M, today is Monday!".
The car drove forever and then arrived at the office. I mentioned above that I am over 1m7 tall and qualified to work in a bank, but in fact I do not work at a bank. Just a wish! I work at a small financial company, with money and loans, but in the eyes of the majority of people, it is much less prestigious than a banker. This is the social norm! No job is as precious as it is often said. You do not believe? Find a girlfriend, ask her to be your wife and release a supporting music model, then you will understand.
People often think of work related to money as boring and cold as money itself. But my work is not that bad, it is quite varied and not repetitive. Every day, I wait in front of the phone, make calls and advise on product introduction. Yes, I am a customer consultant. Surely anyone who works in this field knows an obvious paradox: you are the representative of the lending agency, you will give money to people who need money, but sometimes you have to bow to people. get a loan. They borrow, you get a salary; they don't borrow, you pout. You will meet all kinds of people: people who need money to repair the house or buy household items, people who crave money like a drug addict but still make a majestic face “you borrow for fun, you lack money. LOL”, or people who want to borrow from one place to pay off a debt elsewhere (banking term called debt island).
I know what they borrow for, some of them don't even hide their loan purposes, part of which is not good. But I don't care, as long as they get a loan, I get money, regardless of good or bad intentions. So, the profession of consulting customers, what do you think about it? Marketing? Psychologist? Soft skills? Not so, people often call me and my colleagues by a more common name: scammers.
Hehe, I don't mind those hateful words. Real! Among those people, most of them are hypocrites, they all want their son to become a fraud and then show off to their neighbors: his nephew is a bank employee.
But if you ask me if I like my current job, I will say: No. I always wonder why did I study this industry, choose this profession?
That question bothered me the most at lunch. The plate of rice is thirty thousand, the rice is nóng and cold, the food is good and sometimes bad, but it's more bad. So I also pay less attention to food and spend time thinking about how to make a profile this month, how to find new customers next month.
The first four months, I think so. But in the fifth month, I thought about where to go out tonight, in the afternoon to go to coffee with my friend, on weekends to drink with the best guys. And after three months, I started to ask the question “why did I choose this profession?”.
Why do I follow this path?
Such questions often do not find answers. But one thing is for sure, in the future, if I don't follow this career, I will just be a bad guy. Hehe, that's ironic. You stick to a career not because you like it, but because it's the only thing that gives you food. Solution? Dream! I sat there, hands on my temples, eyes fixed on the plate of rice, wishing I could turn back time. Billions of people around the world have the same dream as me, even scientists are trying to make it come true. It is said that there are holes where if only the accelerator is large enough, people can return to the past or to the future like traveling with the time machine of the cat Doraemon. When that wonderful piece of technology was born, no one knows, but it was definitely after I was lying in the chest. Always confirm it!
But if you could go back in time, what would you do?
It will be a long story and full of fairy flavor. But the fairy does not appear in the middle of the nóng afternoon, the plate of rice is cold, and the sleepiness closes the eyes. I quickly swallowed a pile of thirty thousand and then slipped back to the office, dozed off in the chair, waiting for a long afternoon ahead.
After work, I pulled the car out of the parking lot with my face as dirty as a mop. Bad records, can't get new customers, reprimanded for sloppy work, jealous when co-workers are rewarded; All these things came crashing down on my head and made me angry. I hate the road home, I hate the flow of smoke-filled vehicles, I hate the bulky buses that encroach on the road, I hate the yellow shirt guys stalking the mirrorless riders.
The culmination was when I was hit in the head by an elderly woman driving a Soup Pu-Cup, and I went crazy and hated all women. Lots of traffic laws are in place, but none of them stop women from roaming the streets. dam
However, I don't bring home my frustrations at work. I forbade myself to do that, because my father used to do it. Remember how Barney's character from the series How I met your mother talked about the phenomenon of "cursing the chain"? The boss curses you, you curse your wife, the wife curses the child, the son curses the dog, the dog bites you. There! When you pour out your troubles on your family, the depression will be like a stab at you like a jolt. So when I walked in the door, I tried to put on a fresh face, nodding and nodding "still normal" to the question "how's work?" of two grandparents. Besides, if something really happened, wouldn't you want them to worry?
After I finished washing up, I spent all my time on the computer. Play games, listen to music, meet friends for coffee, read some new parts of a long story that I'm watching on TruyenTv.net
It sounds leisurely, but actually it doesn't make my mind any happier. Playing games alone is boring, playing trực tuyến is full of children who are always cursing, going to TruyenTv.net to read long stories and then reading short stories, but short stories are full of fuck and love stories, waste tissues...
I don't even bother chatting on facebook anymore; In the past, because I focused on talking trực tuyến, my communication skills in real life were terrible, the first month of work without customers was the result. Tired of sitting at the computer, I climbed into bed and went to sleep. Of course, I didn't go to sleep right away, but opened my phone to read a promotional message to top up the card, hoping that tomorrow I would catch a customer who needed money badly, sometimes mumbling curses at the old woman "Pupu Cup" in the afternoon.
My first day of the week is over. And one thing is for sure, the next six days will end up like the first day of the week. Maybe on Sunday, I'll hang out with my friends so I don't get bored. Speaking of which, you probably understand my situation: single. Yes, here I am, twenty years of eating taro in the world and still have not fallen in love with a girl.
Even, no girl called me, maybe there are some "girls" who are old enough to ask for a loan procedure. Every time relatives come to play, they ask a question both familiar and very strange: "do you have a lover?". I always answer with familiar reasons such as unstable work, or not yet the right age. The relatives only smiled faintly, looking at me with the eyes of a judge who understood the crooked words of the prisoner. Then the familiar songs started again: when I was your age, my son had a lot of kids running after him.
Without a relative, my mother has been constantly complaining about prostitutes lately. She kept thinking that I had to marry a woman a year, two or four years younger than me, and then I had to get married at twenty-seven. Honestly! I kept saying yes, yes, to please the old lady, but in my heart, I didn't want to act like a machine. Am I the machine that by the age of twenty-seven must produce a boy (or a child)? God, I'm not a machine!
But ironically, the love story becomes the central issue in the story I am telling you. To be honest, I don't know what love is, other than the rumors on the internet. I can't hold a girl's hand yet, what can I say, love?
But just because a guy is single, doesn't mean he's never been in love.
[rule_{ruleNumber}] [box type=”note” align=”” class=”” color:red;”>Website transferred to a new domain name is: https://www.sex-shoponline.net/truyen-sex if you want to send the story, please send it to email [email protected]!
The story begins one morning, while I was still sleeping, the alarm bell rang loudly throughout the room…
“Announcement, it’s now… 7 hours 1 minute! Announcement, it’s now… 7 hours 1 minute! Please notify…”.
I woke up, scrambled to my feet, and went to my desk. On the table, the old-fashioned Nokia phone vibrated, playing a female voice: “Please inform, it is now…”
Like a programmed machine, I turned off the alarm, reset the alarm to 7:30, then… climbed into bed again. You might say “why didn’t you set the bell at 7:30 in the first place?”, but that’s how I am. Every night before I go to bed, I always draft a script that I will wake up at 7.01 am, do personal hygiene, have a delicious breakfast, sit and drink coffee and then go to work.
Of course, I never made that plan the next morning. It’s always an extra thirty minutes of sleep, lazily running downstairs to brush my teeth, wash my face, swallow a bowl of shrimp noodles smelling of preservatives, sometimes I don’t want to eat and then take my car to work.
When I was in school and my mother worked as an alarm clock, such a thing never happened. Either get up, or have to listen to her give her a rotten eardrum if she sees me slouching in bed for more than five minutes.
Right at 7:30, the old Nokia phone rang loudly. Honestly, I just wish the phone was right next to the bed to turn off the alarm to go back to sleep. I really intend to do it, fortunately my mind reminds me that the phone is about to run out of money, the motorbike is about to run out of gas, the risk of a long-term lunch starvation, this month is about to end and I still haven’t found any customers. . Fortunately, I live with my parents, so dinner is free, even though I feel ashamed that I can’t contribute to the family’s meals. I woke up in a mood of both humiliation and sleepiness, turned off the bell and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face.
The mirror in the bathroom shows a boy with the appearance: crab hair, dark circles under his eyes due to both lack of sleep and regular glasses (I’m very nearsighted), his face is a bit thin, neither beautiful nor ugly; He is of average stature, slightly taller than 1m7, just qualified to be a bank employee. In short, I’m an ordinary guy, not outstanding, not talented, only a small wish that at the end of the month, my wallet will always be full, even though it will shrink quickly and have to ask for more money from my parents. .
Hey! Twenty-three years old with that condition, you can call me a jerk – if you’re successful, you can also chuckle: it’s normal – if you understand. In fact, every twenty-three-year-old boy after graduating from school dreams of becoming a man or woman, at least he must be decent himself. But you will naturally know that life only gives satisfaction to the few, and I am the majority.
Brushing my teeth, washing my face a little, lamenting myself a little, I looked for food. It sounds like a lot of options, but it’s really just instant noodles. About a year ago, I gave up the habit of eating out. Not because of food hygiene problems! Real! Living for twenty years eating all kinds of toxic things on people, now switching to clean eating will not prolong your life much. But with the current state of the economy, trash has its value.
In the past, I loved pho very much, I ate a bowl every week; I still love pho now, but I don’t dare touch it once a year. There’s no such thing as “pho is a popular dish” as someone once said, it has become a luxury product, at least for me. Thirty thousand, that’s enough for me to do a lot of work instead of eating pho.
While slurping a bowl of noodles, I suddenly saw my father come down. I blinked at his double-row gait, then bent down to eat again. Dad turned on the TV, listened to the TV station babble about something about the economy, and then gently asked me:
– Come back for lunch?
I answered curtly:
– Sure is not.
– So remember to eat full rice. Choose a clean item! – My father continued.
– Halo!
“Vong” not “yes” and I deliberately lengthened the last syllable. The word “halo” comes from a mixture of mixed emotions of a son with his father. Sometimes I love him, sometimes I want to smack him hard, that sort of thing. Sounds like a sultry teenage boy, doesn’t it? But I’m pretty sure I’ve passed that age long ago. It’s just that any boy has a problem with his father, mine is of the ‘serious’ category.
I always avoid talking to my father, except when asking for dinner or leaving the house. You know, every house, every scene! Because of that, in recent years, a thought has haunted me that when I have a child, I will become a copy of my father, and the boy will become a copy of myself now. Family tragedies often have a loop, and I fear that. But come to think of it, at least for the next ten years, I don’t want to be a father. Thinking about the scene where my parents raised a guy like me from childhood to when he struggled to destroy the village, I was afraid of getting married.
After eating the bowl of noodles, I climbed into the car to go to work, not forgetting to say hello to my parents. The car ran to the main road, I looked at the sky, at the clouds, at the crowd jostling back and forth, muttering the familiar sentence every first day of the week: “D.M, today is Monday!”.
The car drove forever and then arrived at the office. I mentioned above that I am over 1m7 tall and qualified to work in a bank, but in fact I do not work at a bank. Just a wish! I work at a small financial company, with money and loans, but in the eyes of the majority of people, it is much less prestigious than a banker. This is the social norm! No job is as precious as it is often said. You do not believe? Find a girlfriend, ask her to be your wife and release a supporting music model, then you will understand.
People often think of work related to money as boring and cold as money itself. But my work is not that bad, it is quite varied and not repetitive. Every day, I wait in front of the phone, make calls and advise on product introduction. Yes, I am a customer consultant. Surely anyone who works in this field knows an obvious paradox: you are the representative of the lending agency, you will give money to people who need money, but sometimes you have to bow to people. get a loan. They borrow, you get a salary; they don’t borrow, you pout. You will meet all kinds of people: people who need money to repair the house or buy household items, people who crave money like a drug addict but still make a majestic face “you borrow for fun, you lack money. LOL”, or people who want to borrow from one place to pay off a debt elsewhere (banking term called debt island).
I know what they borrow for, some of them don’t even hide their loan purposes, part of which is not good. But I don’t care, as long as they get a loan, I get money, regardless of good or bad intentions. So, the profession of consulting customers, what do you think about it? Marketing? Psychologist? Soft skills? Not so, people often call me and my colleagues by a more common name: scammers.
Hehe, I don’t mind those hateful words. Real! Among those people, most of them are hypocrites, they all want their son to become a fraud and then show off to their neighbors: his nephew is a bank employee.
But if you ask me if I like my current job, I will say: No. I always wonder why did I study this industry, choose this profession?
That question bothered me the most at lunch. The plate of rice is thirty thousand, the rice is hot and cold, the food is good and sometimes bad, but it’s more bad. So I also pay less attention to food and spend time thinking about how to make a profile this month, how to find new customers next month.
The first four months, I think so. But in the fifth month, I thought about where to go out tonight, in the afternoon to go to coffee with my friend, on weekends to drink with the best guys. And after three months, I started to ask the question “why did I choose this profession?”.
Why do I follow this path?
Such questions often do not find answers. But one thing is for sure, in the future, if I don’t follow this career, I will just be a bad guy. Hehe, that’s ironic. You stick to a career not because you like it, but because it’s the only thing that gives you food. Solution? Dream! I sat there, hands on my temples, eyes fixed on the plate of rice, wishing I could turn back time. Billions of people around the world have the same dream as me, even scientists are trying to make it come true. It is said that there are holes where if only the accelerator is large enough, people can return to the past or to the future like traveling with the time machine of the cat Doraemon. When that wonderful piece of technology was born, no one knows, but it was definitely after I was lying in the chest. Always confirm it!
But if you could go back in time, what would you do?
It will be a long story and full of fairy flavor. But the fairy does not appear in the middle of the hot afternoon, the plate of rice is cold, and the sleepiness closes the eyes. I quickly swallowed a pile of thirty thousand and then slipped back to the office, dozed off in the chair, waiting for a long afternoon ahead.
After work, I pulled the car out of the parking lot with my face as dirty as a mop. Bad records, can’t get new customers, reprimanded for sloppy work, jealous when co-workers are rewarded; All these things came crashing down on my head and made me angry. I hate the road home, I hate the flow of smoke-filled vehicles, I hate the bulky buses that encroach on the road, I hate the yellow shirt guys stalking the mirrorless riders.
The culmination was when I was hit in the head by an elderly woman driving a Soup Pu-Cup, and I went crazy and hated all women. Lots of traffic laws are in place, but none of them stop women from roaming the streets. dam
However, I don’t bring home my frustrations at work. I forbade myself to do that, because my father used to do it. Remember how Barney’s character from the series How I met your mother talked about the phenomenon of “cursing the chain”? The boss curses you, you curse your wife, the wife curses the child, the son curses the dog, the dog bites you. There! When you pour out your troubles on your family, the depression will be like a stab at you like a jolt. So when I walked in the door, I tried to put on a fresh face, nodding and nodding “still normal” to the question “how’s work?” of two grandparents. Besides, if something really happened, wouldn’t you want them to worry?
After I finished washing up, I spent all my time on the computer. Play games, listen to music, meet friends for coffee, read some new parts of a long story that I’m watching on TruyenTv.net
It sounds leisurely, but actually it doesn’t make my mind any happier. Playing games alone is boring, playing online is full of children who are always cursing, going to TruyenTv.net to read long stories and then reading short stories, but short stories are full of fuck and love stories, waste tissues…
I don’t even bother chatting on facebook anymore; In the past, because I focused on talking online, my communication skills in real life were terrible, the first month of work without customers was the result. Tired of sitting at the computer, I climbed into bed and went to sleep. Of course, I didn’t go to sleep right away, but opened my phone to read a promotional message to top up the card, hoping that tomorrow I would catch a customer who needed money badly, sometimes mumbling curses at the old woman “Pupu Cup” in the afternoon.
My first day of the week is over. And one thing is for sure, the next six days will end up like the first day of the week. Maybe on Sunday, I’ll hang out with my friends so I don’t get bored. Speaking of which, you probably understand my situation: single. Yes, here I am, twenty years of eating taro in the world and still have not fallen in love with a girl.
Even, no girl called me, maybe there are some “girls” who are old enough to ask for a loan procedure. Every time relatives come to play, they ask a question both familiar and very strange: “do you have a lover?”. I always answer with familiar reasons such as unstable work, or not yet the right age. The relatives only smiled faintly, looking at me with the eyes of a judge who understood the crooked words of the prisoner. Then the familiar songs started again: when I was your age, my son had a lot of kids running after him.
Without a relative, my mother has been constantly complaining about prostitutes lately. She kept thinking that I had to marry a woman a year, two or four years younger than me, and then I had to get married at twenty-seven. Honestly! I kept saying yes, yes, to please the old lady, but in my heart, I didn’t want to act like a machine. Am I the machine that by the age of twenty-seven must produce a boy (or a child)? God, I’m not a machine!
But ironically, the love story becomes the central issue in the story I am telling you. To be honest, I don’t know what love is, other than the rumors on the internet. I can’t hold a girl’s hand yet, what can I say, love?
But just because a guy is single, doesn’t mean he’s never been in love.
[/box]#Tuổi
[rule_3_plain]#Tuổi
Website chuyển qua tên miền mới là: https://www.sex-shoponline.net/truyen-sex , các bạn muốn gửi truyện cứ gửi qua email [email protected] nhé!
Câu chuyện tính từ lúc một buổi sáng, trong khi tôi còn đang yên giấc thì tiếng chuông báo thức vang ồn ã khắp phòng…
“Xin thông báo, hiện giờ là… 7 giờ 1 phút! Xin thông báo, hiện giờ là… 7 giờ 1 phút! Xin thông báo…”.
Tôi choàng tỉnh, lồm ngồm bò dậy rồi đi tới bàn học. Trên bàn, chiếc Nokia cổ lỗ sĩ rung lập cập phát giọng nữ: “Xin thông báo, hiện giờ là…”
Như một cỗ máy được lập trình, tôi tắt chuông, đặt lại giờ báo thức là 7 rưỡi, sau đó… trèo lên giường ngủ tiếp. Bạn có thể nói “sao từ đầu mày ko đặt chuông 7 rưỡi?”, nhưng tính tôi là thế. Mỗi buổi tối trước lúc đi ngủ, tôi luôn thảo một kịch bản rằng mình sẽ dậy lúc 7 giờ 1 phút sáng, vệ sinh tư nhân, ăn sáng ngon lành, ngồi rung đùi uống café rồi thư thả đi làm.
Tất nhiên, tôi chẳng bao giờ thực hiện được kế hoạch đó vào sáng hôm sau. Xoành xoạch là ngủ thêm ba mươi phút, quáng quàng chạy xuống nhà đánh răng rửa mặt, nuốt vội bát mì tôm sặc mùi chất bảo quản, lắm lúc chẳng thèm ăn rồi dắt xe đi làm.
Hồi tôi còn đi học và mẹ tôi còn làm hộ công việc của chuông báo thức, chuyện tương tự chẳng bao giờ xảy ra. Hoặc dậy, hoặc phải nghe bà xạc một trận thối lỗ nhĩ nếu thấy tôi chây ì trên giường quá năm phút.
Đúng 7 rưỡi, chiếc Nokia cổ lỗ sĩ reo inh ỏi. Thực tình, tôi chỉ mong chiếc điện thoại ở ngay đầu giường để tắt chuông báo thức để ngủ tiếp. Tôi định làm việc đấy thật, may sao cái lý trí nhắc nhở rằng cái điện thoại sắp hết tiền, xe máy sắp hết xăng, nguy cơ nhịn đói bữa trưa dài hạn, tháng này sắp hết và tôi vẫn chưa kiếm được người dùng nào. May mắn thay, tôi sống cùng bố mẹ nên bữa tối miễn phí, mặc dù thâm tâm thấy nhục vì chẳng đóng góp được tiền ăn cho gia đình. Tôi mò dậy trong tâm trạng vừa nhục vừa buồn ngủ, tắt chuông rồi xuống phòng vệ sinh đánh răng rửa mặt.
Cái gương trong phòng vệ sinh hiện lên một thằng đàn ông với cái vẻ vẻ ngoài: tóc cua, mắt thâm quầng do vừa thiếu ngủ vừa đeo kính thường xuyên (tôi cận thị nặng), mặt hơi gầy, ko đẹp ko xấu; vóc người bình bình tầm tầm, cao hơn 1m7 tí xíu, vừa đủ điều kiện làm viên chức nhà băng. Nói túm lại, tôi là một anh chàng phổ biến, ko nổi trội, ko đặc tài, chỉ có mong ước nho nhỏ cuối tháng ví luôn đầy, mặc dầu nó sẽ xẹp đi nhanh chóng và phải xin thêm tiền trợ cấp từ bố mẹ.
Hầy! Hai mươi ba tuổi với tình trạng tương tự, bạn có thể gọi tôi là một thằng vô tích sự – nếu bạn thành đạt, bạn cũng có thể tặc lưỡi: chuyện phổ biến – nếu bạn thông cảm. Thực ra, thằng đàn ông hai mươi ba tuổi nào lúc ra trường cũng ước mơ thành ông nọ bà kia, ít ra là bản thân phải tử tế. Song bạn tự nhiên sẽ biết rằng cuộc sống chỉ ban phát sự như ý cho bộ phận thiểu số, nhưng mà tôi lại thuộc phần đa số.
Đánh răng rửa mặt một tí, than thân trách phận tí, tôi tìm đồ ăn. Nghe có vẻ có rất nhiều lựa chọn, nhưng thực sự chỉ có mì tôm thôi. Khoảng một năm nay, tôi từ bỏ thói quen ăn ngoài. Ko phải vì vấn đề vệ sinh thực phẩm đâu! Thật! Sống được hai mươi năm ăn toàn thứ độc hại vào người, giờ chuyển sang ăn sạch cũng chẳng làm bạn kéo dài tuổi thọ mấy. Nhưng với tình trạng kinh tế bết bát như hiện nay, rác rưởi cũng có trị giá của nó.
Ngày xưa tôi khoái phở lắm, tuần nào cũng xơi một bát; giờ tôi vẫn khoái phở nhưng nửa năm chẳng dám đụng một lần. Ko còn cái gọi “phở là món bình dân” như người nào từng nói nữa, nó đã trở thành thứ xa xỉ phẩm, ít nhất là với tôi. Ba mươi nghìn, chừng đấy đủ cho tôi làm khối việc thay vì ăn phở.
Đang sì sụp húp bát mì, tôi chợt thấy bố tôi đi xuống. Tôi nhóng mắt nhìn dáng đi hai hàng của ổng rồi lại cúi xuống ăn tiếp. Bố bật tivi, lắng tai đài truyền hình lảm nhảm vấn đề gì đấy về kinh tế rồi nhẹ nhõm hỏi tôi:
– Trưa về ăn cơm chứ?
Tôi trả lời cụt ngủn:
– Chắc là ko.
– Vậy nhớ ăn cơm đầy đủ. Chọn cái hàng nào sạch sẽ nhé! – Bố tôi tiếp lời.
– Vầng!
“Vầng” chứ ko phải “vâng” và tôi còn cố tình kéo dài lê thê âm cuối. Chữ “vầng” đó xuất phát từ một mớ xúc cảm hỗn độn của đứa đàn ông với ông bố. Đôi lúc tôi mến thương ổng, có lúc tôi muốn đập ổng thật lực, đại loại thế. Nghe có vẻ giống thằng cu con tuổi teen ẩm ẩm ương ương nhỉ? Nhưng tôi khẳng định mình đã qua tuổi đó lâu rồi. Chỉ là bất kỳ thằng đàn ông nào cũng có vấn đề với ông bố của nó, vấn đề của tôi thuộc loại “trầm trọng”.
Tôi luôn tránh nói chuyện với bố, trừ lúc mời cơm hay ra khỏi nhà. Bạn biết đấy, mỗi nhà mỗi cảnh nhưng mà! Bởi lẽ đấy, nhiều năm gần đây, một suy nghĩ ám ảnh tôi rằng lúc có con, tôi sẽ trở thành bản sao của ông bố mình, còn thằng nhỏ sẽ trở thành bản sao của chính tôi hiện giờ. Thảm kịch gia đình thường có chu kỳ vòng lặp và tôi sợ điều đó. Nhưng nghĩ vậy thôi chứ ít nhất mười năm tới, tôi ko muốn làm bố. Nghĩ cảnh bố mẹ nuôi một thằng như mình từ lúc nhỏ thơ tới lúc nó to vật vã phá làng phá xóm, tôi sợ lập gia đình.
Ăn xong bát mì, tôi leo lên xe đi làm, ko quên chào bố mẹ. Xe chạy ra đường cái, tôi nhìn trời, nhìn mây, nhìn dòng người chen chúc qua lại, mồm lẩm nhẩm chửi thề câu thân thuộc mỗi ngày đầu tuần: “Đ.M, hôm nay là thứ hai!”.
Xe chạy mãi rồi cũng tới cơ quan. Ở trên tôi có nói mình cao trên 1m7 và đủ điều kiện làm ở nhà băng, nhưng thực tiễn tôi ko làm việc ở nhà băng. Chỉ là mong muốn thôi! Tôi làm ở một doanh nghiệp tài chính nhỏ, cũng tiền nong, cũng vay nợ, nhưng trong con mắt đại đa số người, nó kém danh giá hơn viên chức nhà băng nhiều. Quy chuẩn xã hội này nó vậy đấy! Ko có chuyện nghề nào cũng đáng quý như người ta thường nói. Bạn ko tin? Hãy kiếm một cô bạn gái, hỏi cô đấy làm vợ và ra mắt nhạc phụ nhạc mẫu, lúc đấy bạn sẽ hiểu.
Mọi người thường nghĩ công việc liên quan tới tiền nong thường tẻ nhạt và nguội ngắt như chính đồng tiền. Nhưng công việc của tôi ko tới nỗi thế, nó khá nhiều chủng loại và ko lặp đi lặp lại. Mỗi ngày, tôi phục trước máy điện thoại, gọi điện và tư vấn giới thiệu thành phầm. Phải, tôi là viên chức tư vấn người dùng. Hẳn người nào công việc trong lĩnh vực này đều biết một nghịch lý hiển nhiên: bạn là người đại diện cơ quan chủ quản cho vay, bạn sẽ ban phát tiền cho những con người cần tiền, nhưng chính bạn đôi lúc phải van lạy người ta vay. Họ vay, bạn có lương; họ ko vay, bạn trều họng. Bạn sẽ gặp vô số loại người: người cần tiền tu sửa cái nhà hay sắm đồ gia dụng, kẻ thèm tiền như con nghiện thèm thuốc nhưng vẫn làm khuôn mặt uy phong “anh vay cho vui thôi chứ anh vô kể tiền. LOL”, hay những người muốn vay nơi này để trả khoản nợ ở nơi khác (thuật ngữ nhà băng gọi là đảo nợ).
Tôi biết tỏng họ vay làm gì, vài người thậm chí ko hề giấu giếm mục tiêu vay của mình, một phần trong số đấy không hề tốt đẹp. Nhưng tôi chẳng quan tâm, miễn sao họ được vay là tôi được tiền, kệ mẹ mấy cái mục tiêu tốt xấu. Vậy, cái nghề tư vấn người dùng, bạn nghĩ gì về nó? Marketing? Nhà tâm lý học? Kỹ năng mềm? Ko phải thế, người đời hay gọi tôi và những người đồng nghiệp bằng cái tên bình dân hơn: bọn lừa đảo.
He he, tôi ko bận tâm mấy lời hằn học đấy đâu. Thật! Trong số những người đó, phần đông là đạo đức giả, họ đều mong muốn đứa con trở thành kẻ lừa đảo rồi khoe vung chít cầy với họ hàng xóm làng: cháu nó là viên chức nhà băng.
Nhưng nếu bạn hỏi rằng tôi có thích công việc ngày nay ko thì tôi sẽ khẳng định: Ko. Tôi luôn tự hỏi vì sao mình lại học ngành này, chọn nghề này?
Câu hỏi đó quấy rối tôi nhiều nhất vào bữa trưa. Đĩa cơm ba mươi nghìn, cơm hôm nóng hôm nguội, đồ ăn lúc ngon lúc dở, nhưng mà dở lại nhiều hơn. Thành thử tôi cũng bớt chú mục ăn uống và dành thời kì nghĩ tháng này làm hồ sơ ra sao, tháng sau kiếm người dùng mới như thế nào.
Bốn tháng đầu, tôi nghĩ tương tự thật. Nhưng sang tháng thứ năm, tôi nghĩ chuyện tối nay đi chơi ở đâu, tầm chiều đi café với thằng bạn, cuối tuần túy lúy bữa nhậu với mấy thằng chí cốt. Và sau ba tháng nữa, tôi mở màn đặt câu hỏi “vì sao mình chọn nghề này?”.
Vì sao mình đi theo tuyến đường này?
Mấy câu hỏi tương tự thường chẳng tìm được câu trả lời. Nhưng có một điều cứng cáp là sau này, nếu tôi ko đi theo nghề này, tôi chỉ là thằng vô tích sự. He he, trớ trêu vậy đấy. Bạn gắn bó với một nghề nghiệp ko phải vì bạn thích nó, nhưng mà bởi chỉ có nó mới đem lại miếng ăn cho bạn. Giải pháp? Ước mơ! Tôi ngồi đó, tay chống thái dương, mắt ngó đăm đăm đĩa cơm, lòng cầu mong có thể quay ngược thời kì. Hàng tỷ người trên toàn cầu đều ước mơ giống tôi, thậm chí các nhà khoa học gia đang tìm cách biến nó thành sự thực. Người ta nói rằng có những lỗ hổng nhưng mà chỉ cần máy gia tốc đủ lớn, con người có thể trở về quá khứ hoặc tới tương lai như du hành bằng cỗ máy thời kì của chú mèo Doraemon vậy. Món công nghệ tuyệt vời đấy ra đời lúc nào, ko người nào biết, nhưng cứng cáp là sau lúc tôi nằm hòm. Khẳng định luôn đó!
Nhưng nếu có thể quay ngược thời kì, bạn sẽ làm gì?
Sẽ là một câu chuyện dông dài và đầy hương vị cổ tích. Nhưng cổ tích ko xuất hiện giữa buổi trưa nóng nực, đĩa cơm nguội ngắt và cơn buồn ngủ díp mắt. Tôi nuốt vội một đống ba mươi nghìn rồi chuồn về doanh nghiệp, ngủ gà ngủ gật trên ghế, đợi chờ một buổi chiều dài đằng đẵng phía trước.
Tan sở, tôi dắt xe khỏi bãi với gương mặt nhầu nhĩ ngang cái giẻ lau nhà. Hồ sơ trục trặc, chẳng kiếm được người dùng mới, bị khiển trách vì sao lãng công việc, ghen tuông tị lúc đồng nghiệp được khen thưởng; từng đấy thứ ập xuống đầu khiến tôi bực bội. Tôi ghét tuyến đường về nhà, ghét dòng phương tiện xả đầy khói, ghét những chiếc xe buýt kềnh càng lấn đường, ghét những anh chàng áo vàng rình bắt người đi xe ko gương.
Đỉnh điểm là lúc bị một mụ già trung niên lái con Súp pừ Cúp tạt đầu, tôi phát điên và ghét toàn thể phụ nữ. Hàng mớ luật giao thông đề ra nhưng chẳng cái nào ngăn cản phụ nữ vùng vẫy ngoài phố. ĐM
Tuy nhiên, tôi ko đem nỗi bực dọc ở cơ quan về nhà. Tôi cấm mình làm thế, bởi ông bố tôi đã từng làm thế. Bạn nhớ nhân vật Barney của series phim How I met your mother nói về hiện tượng “chửi dây chuyền” chưa? Sếp chửi bạn, bạn chửi vợ, vợ chửi con, thằng con chửi con chó, con chó đớp bạn. Đó! Lúc bạn trút nỗi phiền muộn vào gia đình, sự phiền muộn sẽ như đòn hồi mã thương đâm thẳng vào chính bạn. Thế nên lúc bước chân vào cửa nhà, tôi cố nặn ra một khuôn mặt tươi tỉnh, gật gà gật gù “vẫn phổ biến” trước câu hỏi “công việc thế nào?” của hai cụ. Vả lại, nếu có chuyện gì thật, lẽ nào bạn muốn các cụ lo lắng sao?
Cơm nước tắm rửa xong, tôi dành hết thời kì vào máy tính. Chơi game, nghe nhạc, hứa hẹn mấy thằng bạn đi café, đọc vài phần mới của một truyện dài đang theo dõi trên TruyenTv.net
Nghe có vẻ nhàn hạ, nhưng kỳ thực nó cũng ko làm đầu óc tôi vui hơn chút nào. Chơi game một mình thì chán, chơi mạng thì toàn gặp lũ trẻ trâu luôn mồm chửi bới, lên TruyenTv.net đọc truyện dài chán lại đi đọc truyện ngắn, nhưng mà truyện ngắn thì toàn truyện địt với làm tình, lại tốn khăn giấy…
Tôi thậm chí chẳng buồn tán gẫu trên facebook nữa; trước đây vì chúi mũi vào việc nói chuyện trên mạng, kỹ năng giao tiếp ngoài đời của tôi dở tệ hại, một tháng đi làm trước nhất ko có người dùng là hậu quả. Ngồi máy tính chán chê, tôi leo lên giường đi ngủ. Tất nhiên, tôi ko ngủ ngay nhưng mà mở điện thoại đọc tin nhắn khuyến mãi nạp thẻ, lòng cầu mong ngày mai sẽ vớ được một tay người dùng cần tiền dữ dội, thi thoảng lại lẩm nhẩm chửi mụ già Súp pừ Cúp hồi chiều.
Ngày đầu tuần của tôi kết thúc. Và một điều cứng cáp là sáu ngày sau sẽ kết thúc như ngày đầu tuần. Họa chăng hôm chủ nhật, tôi sẽ lượn đâu đấy cùng đám bạn cho đỡ chán. Nói tới đây, chắc bạn cũng hiểu tình trạng của tôi: độc thân. Phải, tôi đây, hai mươi mấy năm lọ mọ ăn khoai sọ trên đời vẫn chưa yêu được cô gái nào.
Thậm chí, chẳng cô gái nào gọi điện cho tôi, họa chăng có mấy “cô gái” sồn sồn tuổi băm hỏi thủ tục vay tiền. Họ hàng mỗi lần lên chơi đều hỏi một câu vừa quen vừa rất ư kỳ cục: “cháu có người yêu chưa?”. Tôi luôn trả lời bằng mấy lý do thân thuộc như công việc chưa ổn định, hoặc là chưa tới tuổi thích hợp. Mấy người họ hàng chỉ cười nhạt, nhìn tôi với ánh mắt của một vị quan tòa thấu triệt lời vòng vèo chối tội của tội nhân. Rồi mấy bài ca thân thuộc lại xướng lên: hồi bằng tuổi cháu, con bác có hàng đống đứa chạy theo.
Nhưng mà chưa cần họ hàng, mẹ tôi dạo gần đây liên tục càm ràm chuyện gái gú. Bà cứ đinh ninh rằng tôi phải lấy một cô vợ kém một tuổi, hai tuổi hoặc bốn tuổi, sau đấy, tôi phải lấy vợ lúc hai mươi bảy tuổi. Thiệt tình! Tôi cứ ừ ừ vâng dạ cho vui lòng bà cụ chứ thâm tâm ko muốn mình hoạt động giống một cái máy. Bộ tôi là cái cỗ máy nhưng mà tới năm hai mươi bảy tuổi phải sản xuất ra một thằng cu (hoặc một con nhóc)? Giời ơi, tôi ko phải cái máy!
Nhưng trớ trêu thay, cái chuyện yêu đương lại trở thành vấn đề chủ yếu trong câu chuyện nhưng mà tôi đang kể cho bạn đây. Nói thật, tôi chả biết yêu đương là cái quái gì ngoài mấy lời bàn tán trên mạng. Nắm tay con gái còn chưa được, nói gì yêu?
Nhưng một thằng độc thân, ko có tức là nó chưa từng yêu bao giờ.
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