"China Girls" a Hong Kong Travel Page by CliffClaven

When old Cliffie murmured one night that he was going to Hong Kong, his China Girl looked up with her soft, almond eyes and said: Why don't you stay with my little sister?
*****
And so, a few weeks later, old Cliffie found himself sitting at the window of a luxury apartment overlooking the Star Ferry terminal, waiting for the quiet Filipina amah to bring him a breakfast of freshly-pressed orange juice, freshly-baked rolls, freshly-cut fruit and freshly-brewed coffee. Little Sister happened to be married to some gwailo high-flier, who took his description literally by spending all his time jetting around Asia on business. Little Sister would return in the evening from her PR job with an international media concern to take old Cliffie out and introduce him to her world of Hong Kong yuppies and wannabes. The evenings would usually start in some upmarket watering hole, such as Someplace Else in the basement of the Sheraton, where Little Sister always entered to a chorus of greetings. Old Cliffie, who by that stage in his life had been around the block and the world a few times, watched in awe as these Chinese girls manoeuvred and manipulated their men and their lives. It was like being in an episode of Ally McBeal in which Ling played all the parts. Old Cliffie has been wary of Chinese girls ever since.