Shaken Not Stirred

The other day, I received an sms from Kelvin.

Tonight go dinner

WTF.

Is that an order or are you asking me nicely? Irate, I screamed at him over the phone promptly reminding him that he was in dire need of some lessons in text etiquette.

He showed off his new Ah Wang styled short hair. I seriously think it’s been years since he last had his hair short. I still think he looks better with the longer cut, though his mum is elated with the status quo. He says we’re a tag team so since he’s now christened “Ah Wang”, he calls me Fei Mao, after another mentally underprivileged HK drama character.

Later in the day, after confirming plans with Kristabel, we decided to pop down Geylang for Tau Huay. Apparently, the tau huay there is famous. Since we could only meet her after she finished dinner at her Grandmother’s, Kelvin and I had to make our own dinner plans.

He fetched me direct after work, rejecting my pleas for him to go home and change. So in the end, I wore berms and a T, whilst he wore an all black ensemble save for a white belt. My goodness, so Ah Beng. I almost died. Though I must admit that the shirt is a miracle find. Vivian picked it out for him. She definitely has a better eye.

Jet black with a herringbone weave.

We wound up at a corner kopitiam in Holland Rd. Kelvin didn’t seem to mind himself sticking out like a sore thumb in his super ah beng attire. He wanted to order the entire menu. I declined this and that, sticking to just an order of fish meat noodles. Then he screamed at me in front of the lady taking our order.

FYI – we shout at each other all the time. The only time we can ever speak to each other nicely is when we’re both either dead or dying.

Even ordering the drinks is a wrestle. He actually told the drink lady “dai ta chu lai hen ma fan” (it’s very troublesome to bring her out). Asshole!! I almost punched him in the kisser. We finally finished dinner amidst a barrage of expletives and threats of eye gorging.

Our conversations make Singa the courtesy lion’s head shake in disgust.

The drive to fetch Kristabel was equally torturous. The lame bastard loves to fart in the car and lock the windows, leaving me gasping for fresh air. I’ll swear at him and slam on the hazard signal and attempt to open the door. Even in the middle of the highway.

He thoroughly enjoys this sick, repetitive game.

I know, our antics make the Road Safety Police cringe.

Our bladder extolled the virtues or relaxation whilst waiting for Kristabel. Lame Kelvin was whistling and egging me to pee in the bushes. He cited that my pee would kill the vermin that lurked in the shadows. Hunting in vain for a toilet near her block, it was a Godsend when Kristabel appeared before us.

Incidentally, Kelvin ducked the moment he saw Kristabel’s mum. He verbalizes he has a phobia of meeting people’s parents. LOSER. Curiosity had gotten the better of her mum and she could not help but snatch a glimpse of (pseudo celebrity) me. Heeheehee.. In the end, I ran up to Her house to relieve my on-the-urge-of-exploding bladder.

I will not attempt to blog about the sights that burned into memory for fear of incurring Kristabel’s wrath.

So, after she also changed into a more comfortable T and shorts combo, we finally set off to Geylang, leaving the Ah Wang-Beng still in his work clothes.

Locating a parking lot proved a challenge. The only lot available ended up being quite a distance away. We had to walk a few streets to get the right place. You could feel the sexually deprived stares all over the place.

Kelvin looked like a gigolo with his work clothes, walking alongside us.

He’s damn lame. He pointed at me in the middle of the street, shouting, “$40!! You want or not?” I retaliated by offering to buy him a set of paper shirts (those you burn for the dead). Unfazed, he decided to add onto the drama by trying to push me onto the next lane while crossing the road.

I swear I nearly mauled him.

We drove through the alleys to see the tourist attractions. Kristabel and I sat glued with our cheeks to the window, peering onto the sights under the moonlight. Scantily clad girls lined the alleys, almost akin to a police line-up. Each strutting their stuff, trying to entice the passer-bys with their assets dangling out of poor excuses for clothes.

Some looked barely of legal age.

Kelvin shared sob stories he had heard from his friends about the plight of the girls, citing not all were voluntary and he genuinely felt for them.

All that registered was the fact that I was glad I was not one of those statistics.

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Btw, our team lost the debate. Sure, I felt sore, but it was definitely buffered by a post competition celebration with good friends ( Kristabel, Snoopy, Leni and even Sister Chow), time stopped and nothing else really mattered.

Thanks for the support people