Stomping Little Girl

After gambling we went to a four dimensions movie theatre. I was curious what it was all about. We queued, and it was a bloody long queue. Some Indians went back and forth (no…I am not a racist, I do have some nice Indian buddies, one of them is my sweet friend’s boyfriend, and he’s awesome). K reminded me not to shout and shut my mouth. Oh well it was his country after all.
There were two little girls behind us. They were Chinese Indonesians from Malang, East Java. These little girls fought. Their father asked them to be quiet. Then the smaller one stomped her feet. I told her to do it better, the girls were surprised. I showed her how to stomp. Instead of continued stomping her feet, that little girl burst her laughter out loud.
“Cie cie (=Big sister in Chinese) how could you do that? You are a big girl?”
“I am big so I could do it better. So you don’t want to do it again?”
“No.”
The father was glad. The girls were fond of this big girl who could stomp well. But the man I went with was blushing.
“Sweetie, people looked at you.”
“Ah it’s too dark here, moreover no one knows me, and if they do then they would simply smile.”