It was Friday night. It was the first week of work after the short Chinese New Year break. The fireworks have come and gone. And the empty roads and highways began to be populated.
We were at a dingy, back alley English bar run by an American. The crowd is good. It is young and energetic unlike many others where it is infested by dirty old men and prostitutes.
Glad for once people are in the bar just to have fun.
We already had a few pines of beer.
‘so much for a break,’ said Paul, the Physics teacher; a rather deft English man. Typically brash but short for a white guy. He sighed.
‘its alright mun,’ said Kevin the Jamaican. ‘I’ve got to take the kids for a badminton tournament in the American School tomorrow. What do you have to worry about? Get over your hangover?’
‘Vanessa’s coming over,’ he said a matter of factly. He looks at us and gave a rather slight nod and a tinge of exasperation.
‘why is that paul? Don’t worry about it. It’ll be alright. I am sure it will,’ trying to make him feel better.
‘well at least I’ve got no one going after me like crazy,’ he responded.
‘o yeh what’s that all about mun,’ said Kevin.
I was perplexed. I had no clue what they were talking about.
‘what the fuck are you guys going on about?’ I retorted. It wasn’t really in anger but more in exasperation because of my ignorance to the subject at hand.
‘aw come on. You don’t see it mate?’ said Paul.
‘see what?’
That she was coming on to you? Fucking hell mate!’ continued Paul.
‘yeh mun, that chick mun…’ added Kevin.
‘you mean her?’ I querried.
‘Damn right!’
‘she was just being friendly,’ I felt there wasn’t a need to start a fire if there isn’t any.
‘you mean Singaporeans are really friendly?’ Kevin asked.
I thought for a bit and realized that he was right. Many a times I have worked when there is nothing but cold misty air of unfriendliness. He is right.
‘o fuck mate!’ I exclaimed.
‘yup. Yup. He’s got it.’ They said it.
I had my hands on my head. Looking down on the bar floor.
‘how could I have not seen it,’ I said.
‘Because you were sad and lonely,’ said Paul. After which he gave a hearty laugh. The joke of course is on me.
‘let me tell you something bro,’ said Kevin. ‘these chicks, they are repressed and lonely and they just want a dick. But after which, they are going to regret it. And then bro, you are in trouble.’
I didn’t contemplate on the consequences of my non-action. I knew being friendly was going to get me into trouble. I sighed.
I gulp my beer till it was dry and signaled the bartender.
‘dude! 3 tequillas please!’
I think it is better I end the night with the burning taste of tequila.
Song of the Night: Tequilla Sunrise by the Eagles.
Finger Acrobatics Performed by Avloomat @ 2001Hrs
1 Comment
March 12, 2007 at 4:27 am
‘Being friendly’ is the most ambiguous phrase, ever since I have passed puberty.
Should it be any consolation, if you could recall; I often get a good tad at the back of my head from you lot. And often then not, it’s from my beloved Chingchow, who is always around to clarify my social inaptness.
Friendly= I like you
Friendliness= I like you …(fill in the blank)….alot
Being friendly= …(fill in the blank)….like you
Friendlies=………..(I leave that to your imagination)
Your contention to the true intention; serves to tell only one thing – that you’re contented with what you have and the rest of the world is pure blah! Is either that or have another session of ‘When Harry Met Sally’.
…..and the mojo lives,
(in the East London accent) “ain’t it!?”