Mocca And The Taxi Driver

Changing into my gym gear, I stole a glance at the only other person in the men's changing room. He was quite a big guy, resembling the bodybuilder in the I-selling-my-house-at-Mocca.com advertisement, except that he allowed his thinning hair to dangle sparsely above his shoulders.

Another one entered. Mocca's face lit up with recognition, smiled and nodded a greeting. The other nodded in return.

"How's the taxi?" Mocca asked.

"Fed up!" fumed the taxi driver.

"How come?" enquired Mocca.

"I was waiting for a passenger near an office building. My passenger was late but the appointed pick-up point was at the side of the building. No parking was allowed there but I decided to wait for a while as an ang-moh had his BMW parked in front of me, apparently also waiting for someone.

Soon the building's security guard approached. He ignored the ang-moh but motioned for me to move my vehicle. I pointed at the ang-moh's BMW indignantly but it was in vain; the security guard persisted in waving me away. Luckily, my passenger appeared just in time and a conflict was avoided."

"People just don't respect taxi drivers," sighed the taxi driver.

I caught sight of Mocca shaking his head sympathetically as I left the changing room.

Reflections After A Wedding

I had just attended a colleague's wedding.

"How was the wedding?" the boy's sms said.

"Charming," I replied, "Almost makes you want to get married yourself."

"LOL," the boy responded.

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My grandmother is in her late eighties. In a subtle way, she always tried to find out about my relationship status. And I always tried to tell her the truth, albeit in a subtle way.

Some may wonder why she needs to be subtle, afterall as a grandmother, she could nag at me to get married as most other grandmothers do. Fortunately for me, as the eldest grandson, I have been enjoying the privilege of always getting my way with her so she doesn't contradict me very much. Furthermore, she knows that if she nags at me, I would switch from the pleasant, filial grandson into a stubborn, defiant, spoilt brat. Thus I have been spared from such conflicts.

Others may suggest for me to come out to her. That's an idea. Though I wonder how she might take that. I certainly don't want to be the one responsible for making her pass out from shock or disappointment that I'll never get married. At her age, who knows what might happen.

Yet, I wonder how she and the rest of my family members would react if I should announce one day that I was getting married... to another man. For some reason, the possible reactions excite me greatly. Almost makes you want to get married yourself.

Recollections Of A First Date

“乌金石，十元一串。”

The price was the same thirteen years ago during my first trip to China. Based on a crush I had on Danny, I had bought the black stone wristband for him and he had reciprocated by treating me to dinner and a movie.

He took me to a Japanese restaurant at Takashimaya where I remembered having Zarusoba. It was my first time having it and I was unsure about how it should be eaten.

“I think you are supposed to put the wasabi into the sauce and use it as a dip for the noodles,” Danny suggested.

I tried Danny’s suggestion. For a while we ate in silence. What does one say on a date anyway? I glanced at Danny who seemed nonchalant about the awkward pause. Perhaps that’s normal for a first date? I had dreamed about this date for many months but now that it was actually happening, I had no idea how a date worked.

“The wristband you gave me was really cool,” Danny said, breaking the silence.

I stopped slurping my noodles and smiled at him.

“I had the stones rethreaded using fishing line. All friends were quickly filled with envy upon seeing it and kept asking me where I got it,” Danny continued.

“It’s nothing much. It doesn’t cost a lot either,” I said, realizing for the first time that Danny wasn’t wearing the wristband.

“Then the other day when I was flagging a taxi, the fishing line suddenly broke. The stones scattered all over the road.”

So that’s why you’re not wearing it. “Oh dear, so what did you do?” I enquired.

“There was nothing I could do. Both my hands were full carrying my work and a taxi came. I couldn’t pick up all the pieces so I boarded the taxi,” Danny explained.

Like the scattered pieces of the black stone wristband, that first date with Danny never developed into anything important. Yet as I stood there in front of the souvenir shop, that memory of my first date with Danny brought back a treasured emotion. A feeling of time lost, innocence, youthful inexperience and discovery piled into a moment of reflection.

“给我一串。”

The Story Of Ah Qiu

There are two fishhead steamboat places along Jalan Sultan, one at the junction with North Bridge Road and another at the junction with Victoria Street. Both have the name of "Nan Hua Chang" on their signboards, but the former has the words "Ah Qiu" added behind its name (in brackets).

"Are they the same?" queried my bewildered sister.

"No," I answered.

"Are they different branches?"

"Not really," I said as I heard you chuckling. So I began to tell sis the story of Ah Qiu.

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The original Nan Hua Chang fishhead steamboat was started by Ah Qiu and his wife at Sims Avenue near Aljunied MRT station. We are not sure if the recipe of the flavourful soup was Ah Qiu's or his wife, but it was very popular. On an average night, patrons wait for about 45 minutes before they are served.

Unfortunately, Ah Qiu and his wife ended their marriage. Ah Qiu gave up Nan Hua Chang at Sims Avenue to his wife and attempted to start a new branch. He found a partner who was willing to support him financially and started another Nan Hua Chang at the junction of Jalan Sultan and Victoria Street.

Soon, the same flavourful soup at the new branch started attracting attention and business flourished.

Ah Qiu's partner decided to expand the business and opened another Nan Hua Chang branch at Jalan Besar. However, he did it without Ah Qiu's knowledge, likely without offering Ah Qiu a share in the new branch.

Ah Qiu was furious. But what was he to do? He was financially too weak to end the partnership. Yet, how could he continue to work with such a partner?

It seemed too much of a coincidence, but just when Ah Qiu was pondering about the future of his business, he struck the lottery. Now he was financially abled and he decided to break the partnership to start his own branch of Nan Hua Chang diagonally opposite to his partner's branch to challenge his partner.

Thus the Nan Hua Chang at the junction of Jalan Sultan and North Bridge Road came into existence. Ah Qiu added his own name to the now famous brand of "Nan Hua Chang" so as to differentiate it from the other branches.

With such direct competition, Ah Qiu's ex-partner soon gave up the branch at Jalan Besar.

And so it is today that there are three branches of Nan Hua Chang in Singapore, the original one at Sims Avenue and two later branches along Jalan Sultan.

Old Places, Old People, Old Tissues And Some Differences

We were having breakfast at Da Lian again.

Again the tissue lady came. We rejected her offer to buy her tissues by pointing to a packet of O'Darling 3-ply on your side of the table and she left.

"How did you manage to find this old brand? I haven't seen it for a while," I said, picking up the packet and studying it for a while. There was a starkness in the anime girl's face that I don't remember and the colours appeared deeper.

"I bought it off a man with one leg," you replied. "He looked really pitiful so I bought some packets from him."

"It looks different."

"Perhaps it's made in a different place now. Malaysia?"

Guy-friend, Boyfriend

"Pang-Hae Ka Woo Cuk Ke Tik-Tor?" Grandma asked in Teochew.
[Translation: "Did you go anywhere this school holiday?"]

I replied, "Woo."
["Yes."]

"Ke Dee Kor?"
["Where did you go?"]

"Macau," I told her.

"Cek Gai Nang Ke?" she interrogated.
["You went alone?"]

"Ga Peng-You."
["With a friend."]

"Zha-Bow Peng-You Ah See Da-Bou Peng-You?" she pressed.
["Girlfriend or guy-friend?"]

"Da-Bou Peng-You."
["Boyfriend."]

TJ At The Gym

Coming through the entrance of the gym, I caught sight of TJ on the decline bench doing crunches. I nudged you and pointed TJ out; we haven't bumped into TJ for a while.

TJ came into the changing room in a while.

"Finished your workout?" I asked casually.

"Ya," he replied smilingly.

As usual, I changed into my gym gear and headed to do my warm-up run while you made a detour to the toilet before heading to the cardio machine. I had done the second set of my third exercise when I saw you stepping onto the cardio machine. "That was a long time to spend in the toilet," I thought, lifting the dumbbells for the third set.

"I was chatting with TJ in the steam room just now," you told me later. "He has been going places."

"No wonder you took so long in the toilet," I answered.

"Seems he will be going out of town these coming weeks."

"That's all he talks about, his trips," I remarked.

"Yes, come to think of it, I have never conversed with him on any other topics but his trips."

Off Day

For months and months, you've been working 7 days a week. Finally, you decided you needed a break. So on Thursday, we woke up at ten and lazed around till noon before making our way downstairs for brunch.

"What do you want to do today?" you asked.

"We could catch a movie with my Citibank rewards movie voucher, go shopping at Sim Lim Square or we could even go over to Johore," I suggested. Then looking at your overworked and haggard face, I added, "Or we could just stay home and watch TV."

"That sounds good," you agreed. "But I have a craving for laksa now."

You joined the queue at the Sungei Road Laksa stall while I picked a table and sat down. Soon you carried a tray with two bowls of laksa to the table. I thought the gravy was rather salty that day but without a pair chopsticks, I was forced to sip down some of the gravy in order to get at the noodle. You, on the other hand, were delighted to finally quench your craving and slurped at the gravy greedily.

Out of nowhere, a hand pushed 6 packets of tissue onto the table and a finger pointed to the one dollar change you obtained paying for the laksa.

Simultaneously, we both refused, telling the tissue lady to retrieve her packet tissues. This time, however, she was quite insistent and refused to move away until you told her that her tissue was unsuitable for our use several times.

"So apparently she has to work afternoons too," I said.

"She's getting desperate," you observed.

"Well, not desperate enough to stop smoking," I replied as the tissue lady lighted up another stick of cigarette.

A Fake Marriage Proposal

For the want of something to talk about, I told you about the marriage proposal I received on Fridae.

Original Message ---------------- hi,nice to meet u.something need u help? im lesbian,29 yrs old ,not pr here,from china need marriage cause my parent wish.will u/gay freind can help me solve it?im seeking seriously & hope somebody can solution with me.any news/discssion pls reply me asap& leave any hotmail add /mobile num to easy programming,thanks.. email:***_******@hotmail.com

My Reply --------- Sorry, can't help you there. It's against my beliefs to use marriage as a convenient solution to any problem or financial gain. Call me a romantic, but I prefer to live in the idealism that marriage is a commitment made between two people who are in love. I hope you will be able to find some other solutions to your problems.

You sniggered but did not make an alternative proposal.

The Boy

The torrential rain flooded the pedestrian walkway threatening to seep into my shoes. I stepped carefully over the grating trying to avoid the streams of rain water as they drained off the path. In front, a boy alighted from his mother's vehicle and rushed into the shelter of the covered walkway, the school bag on his shoulders bobbing up and down. I quickened my steps and finally caught up with him as he entered the school gate.

Turning around, the boy acknowledged me by flashing me a bright smile.

"No PE today I guess," I said, trying to make conversation.

"Definitely," the boy answered, obviously disappointed.

"Have you shown your parents your exam papers yet?" I asked, knowing he did quite badly for a few papers.

"Only those I did well in," he replied.

"What about the other papers?"

"Monday. If I show them today, they will ground me this weekend," he explained sheepishly.

The Water Man

We were crossing the road when a man cycled past carrying numerous empty plastic containers on his bike.

"I see him frequently. I think he goes out every night to collect water to bring home," you remarked.

Sure enough, I bumped into the water man last night as I was going down the stairs to meet you for dinner. There on the fifth floor corridor, his bike was loaded with the plastic containers that were now filled up with water. He seemed to have just taken a bath for his hair was limp with moisture and his shorts were wet. He grasped two of the containers by the handle and wobbled back to his unit leaving behind a trail of wet footprints.

"I think he has had his water supply cut off by PUB," you deduced.

"The outside of his unit is quite messy," I observed. "Piles of old newspaper, bamboo poles of laundry, a few old, rusty bicycles..."

"Maybe he is a karang guni man?" you suggested.

The Tissue Lady

We were at Da Lian this morning. We both ordered mee kia dry and were waiting for our orders to come, you sipping your kopi-si-kosong and me my teh-si.

I was wondering aloud why the tissue lady was nowhere in sight. You replied that perhaps it was because she was sleeping late. "I don't remember seeing her the last few times we were here," I said as our noodles were being served.

As I was eating the piece of tur kwa in my mee kia dry, out of the corner of my eyes, I saw that the tissue lady has arrived.

A great bag of packet tissues was slung on her left arm as she strode towards Da Lian. The rising fumes from the lighted cigarette in her right hand mirrored her mass of grey, unkempt swirling hair.

She threw a few packets of her wares on our table and pointed to the fifty cent coin beside your wallet, the change you obtained paying for our kopi-si-kosong and teh-si.

Simultaneously, we both refused, telling her to retrieve her packet tissues.

"Fifty cents would have been enough to buy a stick of cigarette," you said.

"Really?" As a non-smoker, this was new information to me. I had always thought that the cost was nearer to a dollar.

"If she buys one of the cheaper brands," you explained.

The Androgynous Pastor

Mom about her one of her customers, “The first time I saw him, I couldn’t decide if he was a man or a woman. He was dressed a man, but he was gentle and soft-spoken and you aren’t really sure. You can tell he was the thrifty type, but he was a good customer and never haggled over the price of the things he bought.

Then out of the blue, he informed us that he was getting married. He looked like he was in his late forties so we were quite surprised but we congratulated him of course. He then went on to share about how his fiancée was planning a high budget wedding and complained about how she was digging into his finances.

The next time I saw him, about three months later, he said he was no longer getting married. The excuse was that he was uncomfortable with the way his money was being spent.”

“He loves someone enough to want to marry her but gives her up because he doesn’t want to afford the wedding?” I was intrigued.

“Yes, he’s weird.” Mom replied.

“Perhaps he’s really gay and was pressurised into marriage by his family or church?” I suggested.

Mom looked thoughtful, “We will never know.”

Assuming my suggestion about the pastor was true, I told her I couldn’t imagine myself leading such a life of denial and self-rejection.