Life of Us Ikan Bilis. Vol 1

(For all characters featured beforehand like Jane, Keisha and the Scotsman, pls read the last Ping Pong Queen series to refresh memory. Ed featured here is from The Phone Call)

Hi all!




Perhaps it is time for a confession.


I haven’t been blogging because very simply, I’ve been depressed. And true to the akk creed, I couldn’t write much when I’m down and out. Even funny things gets forgotten in the haze of dumbed down panic. As I mentioned before, there has been a re-structuring going on at my workplace. Not just a re-structuring, but also a re-shuffle. One beer-filled Saturday, Keisha mumbled over the glass that she and Jane (both same section) are going to move their lab a few levels up. Next thing I know, their cubicles are standing empty in the office, every memorabilia gone, even the 3M hooks on the wall that Jane used to hang up her jacket.


2 days later, I moved my own cubicle to Jane’s old one while someone else took up Keisha’s. Both of them had been the early staffers so their cubicle spaces were prime locations. Pragmatically it was the right thing to do, so now I never had to check my back nor put up a mirror to see who’s behind me, but somehow it was all different. I fretted incessantly over them while they were away, because I was used to their presence and their chit chat while they had been around. I was used to having them message me on MSN even when they were just a cubicle away, usually to gossip because we were eavesdropping on PPQ’s loud voice on the telephone.


Now I wondered if they were well, being under TWO new bosses instead of the original Scottish bloke. I had heard stories and frankly, just this issue of the TWO bosses would have warrant a ‘chronicles’ status, but my heart wasn’t in it to invest time and effort writing about them when it was without doubt that my 2 good frens have been silently suffering.


But for the sake of comprehension, here’s the round-up so far. If you all remember, Ed has been introduced once here as the director of my department. He came to replace the one who had originally hired me (the BB aka Big Boss) because BB decided he wanted to increase his golf time during the work week. Ed was originally sent here to resolve the issue of the company’s direction. I guess you can say that during then, things were already getting loopy.


Ed turned out to be quite a welfare person, which was a pleasant surprise, but he was a stranger to the company and the company had been rolling down a straight path to destruction. Much like a train with bad brakes down a gently sloping track. It was slow but unstoppable. Among many things, he inherited the department’s politics, which was a whole hog of mixed hierarchy: middle bosses having higher authority in some cases than directors in other departments because their own directors held more power.


Hey, I didn’t say mine wasn’t a big company. It was one of the largest, if you think hard enough, I’m sure you know where I work.


It was extremely weird how the TWO bosses managed to chap-jit-kah in. First, there was already a middle boss for Keisha and Jane, the Scot. Apparently the director from another department wanted to move the whole technology section undertaken by the 3 over to his own side for his own purpose (ie. Drive his own department research). Our BB, for all his golfing ways, had at least been very clear that the whole department should not be split up, and was sufficiently unafraid of that director, since he had clout of his own.


And then, call it conspiracy or plain coincidence, BB suddenly declared he was transferred to another place with less work and confessed his deep yearning for more time of his own. He gave us all a big pat on the back, a good increment and Ed, whom we have never seen before.


Then almost immediately, the director-from-the-other-department released his favourite TWO middle bosses into our midst and expertly whinge out the Scotsman. Within 3 months, Jane and Keisha had been physically moved from our office and the lab had been dismantled and assembled 7 floors up.

That had been the turning point for me. For a while everyone of us ikan billis struggled to keep a happy face, it was definitely a time of great unrest and lots of change. We had a mini party to celebrate the gals’ move ‘Up-the-ladder’ and everyone took a tour of their new lab space and cubicle. We joked that at least now they could see the sun (no surprises for guessing which level we worked in). I folded 2 pairs of origami mandarin ducks for them for love and romance luck, then feng-shui their cubicle so the ducks were placed in the right direction.


For a while, they joined us for our lunches, a communal activity which we never stopped practising.

Then they came less and less. Their work piled up. The TWO bosses started working them real hard. They came to work earlier and earlier (7.30am) and left later and later (9pm). The stories started coming, not from the gals, but from ikan billis in the other departments, saying these 2 bosses worked like a demolition team, they bulldoze anyone who steps in their way. And I’m sure you ask, why 2?

Ah…because they are a husband and wife team. They always did things together. Too bad they still charge double salary. In any ordinary organisation, unless it’s family, I’ve never heard of such a situation, another indication to tell you where I’m working at. For purposes of convenience, since they are a couple, I’ve taken the liberty of putting their initials together to give them a collective name here. It’s really not my fault that one is called Kindermann and the other is Norse (sirname). It would not be too much also to ask if they had carved their initials on a tree somewhere in Jolly England, where they crawled from, encased in a heart, the initials KNN, but it would be much too much to hope they had ever been young, much less have romance in their gritty soul.

It was good to know that the hokkien dialect can transcend language and geography to describe so succinctly, the essence of these two, in their names alone. I bow to the superiority of the Hokkien dialect and am proud to be one. Long live the colourful language.


Emails came in hard and fast from KNN after that, stating that the 7th floor lab under restricted entry and if any of us wants to visit, we’d have to call KNN to open the door for us. Then came the email from Jane and Keisha pleading that all emails work-related are to be sent to KNN, without CC-ing them. Because, in the words of both, ‘They want to know everything and they don’t like us to know anything that they knew.’ Now whenever we call them using the lab line for work issues, KNN picks up the phone with a stony ‘yes?’.


‘erm.’ The ikan billis will quake. ‘Can I speak with Jane? There’s a delivery order for the lab concerning the new fridge and she is the purchaser.’

‘no, you can’t.’

Simple as that.

‘Er.’ And the Ikan billis gulped, but she rallies, ‘Is she busy? Because this is important.’

A pause, then…

‘Yes, she’s been really busy. She’ll only be free next month. In fact, both the gals are up to their necks in work and I’d appreciate you not bothering them with such unnecessary details. You can pass me the problem.’

‘Erm…erm….’


‘Right. Just email me the details. Good bye.’ Click.




Jane and Keisha have been relegated to menial workers with no voices. On the rare occasion when they did come down to get some items that had left during the move, everyone would stop work and ask them how they were. But just by looking at them, we didn’t have to ask. In that short time, they had lost a lot of weight, they had dark circles under their eyes and they look malnourished. Keisha's ribs had come out. Now, even PPQ is silent and no longer ribbing Keisha about weight issues. Jane, who had always been lanky, was now a shadow.


Sitting in Jane's old cubicle, hidden from the crowd, I cried that day.


====================================

Oh well, I guess today’s post will become a 2-3 parter after all. They will cover the following issue.
1. How a boycott started, how a team building issue became a contension. How Jane has now stpped all communication with me and we are no longer frens. How one half of the KNN eventually became our supervisor. How Ed may be leaving...


Yup, you heard right. Life as Ikan Bilis....crap.

That’s it for now, I think. It will only get worse, so for those looking for happy fluffy stuff to read about, try not to click in for this month.

Thanks all.


Out,
AKK

World is such a small place...

Hi all!




I know I MIA, but seriously hor, it’s because I was really really really (!) busy leh. In fact, I was actually doing work! You know, that thing that ppl do in order to get money? In fact, part of the reason I didn’t blog was because of some internal re-structuring occurring in the company and we are all doing real work, fake work and picking up after everybody kinda work, so long as you look busy, just in case the re-sturcturing doesn’t include your name on its list.

I just had to share this though, because it is not actually the coincidental-ness of the whole thing. It was more like the thinking process of it. Most ppl always wonder about a thought and ask, ‘hmm…where did that come from?’ But no, not me! For better or worse, I’m blessed with the kind of thought process that I actually track to arriving at an answer. Here’s an example:


Walking towards the entrance of RafflesCity --> see Robinson --> think about last time, it wasn’t Robinsons that stood there, but SOGO --> reminisce a bit about SOGO--> remember the logo of SOGO , which is a blue bow --> shape of the bow look like sweet --> want eat sweet --> reminisce about the Marks & Spencers that is now occupied by Body Shop --> think about my fav M&S sweet --> wine gums, fruit gums, toffee crunch --> Go Jason’s buy sweet --> eat sweet --> M&S sweet nicer --> Stone.

Back to the story: So I actually went to the US for a short conference. It was a single stopover from Seoul. Hubby A tagged along to keep me company, thank goodness for him.


And the world was so small that when I was lining up at the departure gate at Changi, a shadow loomed over me, and I found that this really tall man in a suit was blocking the white lights, his back towards me. Oh man, his back view looked really familiar. And there I was, trying to take a peek at his face, I was pretty sure I knew this person. The worse thing was that he was gripping a cup of coffee, and I was sure that person whom I think he is likes his kopi too.


So there I was considering all my options and the thought process starts whirring away….
a) Tap his shoulder?
b) Accidentally knock into him so he’ll turn around?
c) Jab his expensive leather shoes and ankles with my rolling luggage?
d) Throw my sweater onto the floor beside him so he’ll bend down and pick it up same time with me? If you don’t remember this trick, you were too young to have seen that parfum spray commercial about 15 yrs ago….
e) Have a coughing fit.
f) Sms that Fren’s HP and scare him Enemy-of-the-State-Style with ‘Fren, don’t lim another sip of kopi if you don’t want the whole world to know how loud you gargle, because there’s a bug in your wedding ring….’
g) Just bloody call him on his HP.

Imagine how tired I was having all these suggestions running through my head and still in the meanwhile, that idiot just won’t turn around and save me from doing anything stupid…. A had one eyebrow risen, looking at me typing on the HP and taking off my sweater at the same time, ‘ahem’ing all the way.


And then….and then…….. the shadow changed….


And the moment how we said ‘hi’ shall forever escape my memory.


----_______----



The reason why the entry was so late was because while I absolutely remembered all the tactics doing a cross-country in my brain, I absolutely forgot what happened the next few minutes.


Was it that horrendous that I choose to forget? Cannot be leh, can it? Because he is still responding on MSN, so shouldn’t be that bad. Right?


Like the comic strip with the middle panel missing, I went from having a war with my sweater, coughing TB-coughs to sitting sandwiched between Meepok and A waiting for boarding.


In any case, it’s really Meepok. The long-distance runner with the go-li eyes who succeeded in pacing pass the lao-ah-pek at the Standard Chartered Race in 2006.


One thing I remembered though. When he saw me, he immediately checked his flight ticket to see if it was the right plane…..


Choujidan ….


Out!

AKK

More Tears over Scrambled Eggs...

Hi all!



I’m now back at my old home, sitting on the floor of Chwee Kueh’s room, enjoying the aircon and his collection of sad Chinese love songs blaring away. Essentially, I’m resting and my heart’s been peaceful for the past few hours, thanks to my family members' proximity and my mum's double-boiled soup.

I know I don’t talk much about the sadder aspects of my Life that i encounter, usually because I think its boring and it ain’t funny, so there’s no point.

But today, I’ve decided to break this rule a little bit and let some seep through. It’s my gal fren. I believe I have featured her here before under Tears over Scrambled Eggs. She’s that fren of mine who’s got those great legs and loves her hubby.

Sometimes the conversations are too long to remember and too sad to recall, so here are some of the snippets of the many long conversations we’ve have had since the fateful day she decided to open up. I appreciate that you guys really do care and am surprised by some of the comments I’ve been getting for that entry. But its true that during that time, you can call it an isolated incident and dismiss it.


Well, unfortunately, now you can’t. Not when things are going from bad to worse.


Here’s a summary of the things that have been going on. Firstly, as I said, the 2 of us are very similar, we got married pretty early and had a great start ie, a career, a loving husband, a car. We studied a lot and made the best of our education.


Of cos the big question is a big fat ‘So What?’


Since they were married, the husband has been a successful public servant. Successful is easy to explain in civil service terms, it just meant he can do his job and is more capable than normal and commands the respect of his subordinates. He himself is a cheerful and forceful person who believed the world his oyster. To give him his due, the turnover rate at his department tripled after he left because there was no morale left.


Then the bad stuff began to happen. To say he was ill-prepared wasn’t really true. Academically he had a double masters (he is indeed an LKY-loyalist), but socially, he did not expect to meet head-on rejection from companies who tell him he had ‘no experience’, too ‘academically-senior’, ‘post too junior’, ‘overqualified’, ‘jobscope don’t fit your resume’. One of the worse was definitely ‘sorry, but we have had some bad experience with ex-government employee, I’m afraid we cannot consider you.’


Meanwhile, my fren held the fort by working and saving, and watched her once happy and optimistic husband transform into a bitter, haunted man.


When he finally got a job offer after 6 months, they were both overjoyed. But it turns out the female was a witch and working for her was, in his words, ‘horrific’. Then came their first quarrel. It was over money and over sacrifices.


'But Dear, we need the money.’


‘I cannot stand being there anymore! Can you understand the torture having to del with her everyday?’


‘But, the money…’


‘The money, the money!! Is that all you ever think about?!! What about me?’


‘Well, at least stay till you get another job. I’m not earning enough for the both of us.’


‘No, I can’t! I can’t stay another day!’


‘Why can’t you be Stronger!’


‘Why can’t you Understand!?”


‘But I do understand! I understand that you are NOT willing to just stick around and earn the money that we need.’


‘I don’t want that bitch’s money!’


‘Well, I want! We NEED IT!!


‘Shut up! Just SHUT UP! If you love me, you’ll support me!’


So the ultimatum came out in a burst of all that anger. Unwilling, but not knowing what to do, she dried her tears and said, ‘of cos I love you.’ Then they kissed and made up. He quit and the witch docked his pay. They were now back to square one.


On the surface was a happy cheerful couple who loved each other, but the rot has started invading. The only blessing they had was that both their families were healthy, happy and independent.


The huge relief she felt was gone, all those times when she thought her eyes would brim but couldn’t find a quiet spot in the office for some peace has come back with a vengeance. She started wearing her armor of cheerfulness and cheerleader-mentality again (you can do it, hubby!), and found solace in hope. Hope that things will go well, that things will be OK. She kept up a litany of these sayings both for herself and her husband, who sometimes cried himself to sleep. Thankfully, and this she told me in all honesty, chuckling, ‘At least I’ve finally found that quiet spot in the office. You wouldn’t believe the amount of security cameras they’ve got there!’


Then after another 3 months, he got another offer. She called me up and screamed her joy in my fragile ears. The pay was better and the big boss seemed good. On her part, she had hung on to her own work, it was her first job but she excelled in it enough to get a pay rise. She seldom talked about her work. Her excuse being that my eyes will glaze. The only reference from it I ever got from her was, ‘Some customers can be such jerks, Akk, I wouldn’t know where to start.’


‘This time, I’m sure it’s gonna work!’ She chirped. Then inexplicably and yet, explicably, she broke down when I agreed with her. Yup, it seems all good, I said to her.


I would love to end the story here, to give you all a great ending. I’d love to say that she’s happier than she’s ever been, that her hubby’s doing well and so is she. I’d like to say to you readers what she used to tell me after every call, that finally everything’s going to be OK, everything’s going to be fine.


This time he lasted 4 months. There was no quarrel, just an amicable discussion that if he stayed there any longer, he’ll become a shell of himself. Does she want to have him wake up every morning depressed and emotionally wrought, to go against himself, just so that he could bring home the bacon, or does she want him to retain his sanity?


And she, who has been suffering already from his bouts of depression and hopeless anger during those months, gave him a hug and said, in all truthfulness, ‘I don’t think I can be happy if you aren’t.’ He did not note the irony. He left again without another job. They agreed, that while he looked for another job (again), he would try being an insurance agent.


Thankfully, her subconscion somehow had refused to believe her ‘everything will be OK’ self-delusion, so she had been diligently saving as much as she could, because the past few months of unemployment had almost wiped out their joint account savings after it wiped out his.


The past 4 months saw him struggling, both trying to sell insurance and trying to find a job. Its true that he was happier than when he was in the previous company, but she noted, with extreme dejection, that he did not seem to be selling much insurance although he packed his days meeting people. He was trying his best and doing all the right things, so she did not complain.


And then the day she dreaded came, they had finally used up their joint savings, the bulk of which was hers. Last week, he shame-facedly asked her to settle his credit card bills and car instalments. The car, which was his prized possession, was to be their undoing. One day in the car, he admitted that there were no job offers and she tentatively asked him if he could let go of the car or sell the house.


‘What do you mean?’ his voice grew cold.


‘We can’t afford the car and house anymore.’


‘We’ll need to top-up even if I sell the car now.’


‘No, I meant to sell the car and use public transport.’


‘What happen to your ‘everything’s going to be all right'?’ he accused, the air in the car had become frigid.


Then before she could answer, which was just as well, he lost his temper.

‘Do you know how little confidence and self-worth I have left in myself? How can you ask me to sell away those very things that at least gave me an indication that I was once successful!’ And he slammed this palms on his steering wheel and shouted while she cried.

‘How could you!!’


‘How could he?’ she moaned to me. ‘My money, he’s using my money…. Soon we’ll have none…’


‘There there….’ I soothed, my own fingers hastily groped for Kleenex while my ear was plastered to the phone.


‘I love him and I hate him! I hate him! I’ve never been this unhappy!’ she wailed while I wiped my own eyes.


‘And I can’t leave him, I don’t have the strength to, I can’t bear to ….Oh Akk,’ she sobbed. ‘What should I do?’


I cried too. What can she do?


I need a breath.


Out,


Akk

Letter to a Friend Vol. 2

Hi all!


Long time no write. I OK lah, no worries, I am AKK afterall. :) Thanks for all the help, encouragement and understanding. Today is thankfully a light-hearted entry, in fact it's a glimpse into my working world, so all the censorship applies. Oh yes, pls excuse my Klatchian, this is how i write my 'fren' emails.....

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++=


Written to my fren who is now based in New Jersey very recently.......

Dear XXX XXX,

So glad you are having a nice time and that everything over there is very good, minus the sleeping arrangements. Don't care about the guy and do whatever you want. Ay, be careful wor, he is still a man hor, so you bathing or changing clothes must be careful of hidden cameras or peepholes....all men are lechers (Except my hubby)!

In any case, my life is steadily going worse! Could it be that I put my feng shui stuff wrongly? Firstly, big boss keep asking me to change the xxxxxx design, little bit here and little bit there, but to the printer, it's still a totally new pic!! So the printer uncle scolded me because I made him change so many times! Aiyo, so embarrassing, I kept saying sorry sorry, so uncle now qi xiao a bit, so not too bad. They say they can finish the printing by the deadline, pls pray for me leh!

Then my XXX head is as horrible as ever, really all talk and no action you know! I almost burst an artery talking to him! Friday supposed to print the XXXXXX poster to put them up in XXXXXX, but something wrong with our printer, so he say he'll settle it on Monday. I ask him also if he got approval to put up the posters, he say dun have! I ask him to do it about 1 month ago leh! The Bastard!


Then he say he settle the approval on Monday, so I relac and took leave on Monday, when I came back, he print the posters but never ask the approval, and then hor when big boss ask him if he can start selling the XXXXXX, he never think properly through, just say YES! What the -fucking Fucker!


Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckThe Fucking idiot! He had to tell me that after I saved his arse looking for the ppl to get the approval when I came back on Tuesday. I got the -fucking approval in ONE day! I was so angry! He never do ANYTHING, then anyhow say YES, now must stress for him! The fucking idiot! I tell him cannot becos the XXXXXX not ready! How can he just agree before consulting the committee? We know so much more than him about the going-ons. Then he say boss ask him to market the XXXXXX, I was like HUH??!! Since when the PUBLICITY team need to MARKET the event? It’s the fucking job for the fucking MARKETING team!!!!!


-BEEP-!

And horribly, all these happen yesterday! And I was doing dissection the whole day leh, got no time, only ended at 9pm! The poor mice lor! All 7 of them (I very slow, I know). Then must do all these things, 'nothing' things. Fuck lah.

Then in the midst of all the excitement? We got a fire in XXXXXXX!!! In the middle of cutting mouse no. 4’s stomach, may Buddha rest its tiny soul, there was an alarm, then an announcement. You know how it is lor, 'pls standby for further instructions' the intercom lady said....

But the Lady never got back with her SECOND announcement!!! Wah LAN eh!!!! We all die fiery death in XXXXXXX liao!!! Speculate that the lady ran away without telling us to run away too!

Another &*&^%$ idiot!!!


Okie, my therapy session end liao, gotta go. BTW, I went for the slimming massage, now I got fucking Bruises for thighs....


Seeya!

AKK

I can't talk right now...

Hi all,



I never intended for this to be a sad blog.


When I was still crushing on my ex, I had 3 volumes of diary filled to the brim with the angst and unspent passions of a pubescent girl in the throes of her first serious crush. When I finally got him after waiting in the wings about 2 years, before finally saying goodbye in the 11th month, I continued the diaries, adding 2 more volumes. Pages and pages of roller-coaster emotions, enough happiness to sing and run around in stormy weather, jumping and laughing and gasping for joyful breath, licking raindrops, then another page dissecting my relationship down to its most miniscule excuses, looking for the reasons why he didn’t want to spent more time with me, what did I do wrong, why am I all empty inside, so on and forth. Pages and pages of guilt, remorse and regret, then anger and denial, then tears and loss.

Then I stopped writing. Because every word hurts. Even the happy ones, the innocent entries starting off with hope of seeing him and going out for a movie, knowing in the next entry, somebody changed his mind about meeting again.

During those days, I wrote because I was too emotional. This unburdening of words will come spewing out like a can of shaken cola, so I wrote to dispel them all in neat little letters or angry scribbles that gashes the pages. I wrote them all down so like snarling animal, I could then lock it all up and put it away, the eminent danger of that choking emotion having no chance to surface in the form of self-mutilation or whatever it was girls do to draw attention away from emotional pain.

Since then, I had found calm and peace. Then later, I found forgiveness and forgetfulness. If not for the diaries, I would be at a loss to remember exactly what happened during those years of my life. Once the worst of the hormones have passed, Life became more tranquil.

I’ve grown up. Happiness is something I’ve always appreciated, whereas happiness was more like a ticket to the moon previously, happiness now is like a cup of hot coffee in your hands whilst standing in cold weather. So equally does the sadness melt from an angry funeral pyre to smothering ashes.


I digress again, as usual.

What I meant to say is:

I’m glad I’m grown up.
I’m glad I don’t feel bone-crushing emotions anymore.
I’m glad I’m now in control.



What I really meant to say is:


There is a crack in AKK’s Life. Always has been, just never written down, not even said.


Like my diaries, perhaps the next entry will be a happier one.

I never intended for this to be a sad blog.


Sorry.

Love, AKK

The Phone Call

Hi all!

Truth to tell, life has been a little more than hectic. I’m very sure that work is now under control, but in the meantime I’m studying after office hours. Actually, I’m sure that’s under control too. So I guess it must be the 7 games of scrabbles I’ve been playing on Facebook, which is not allowing me to blog as much. I’m still heady from earning 77pts for the word ‘moorier’ which I didn’t even knew existed


But hey, not to worry! While I was away on hiatus, I’ve been collecting pieces of short stories to revile you with.


Story 1: The phone call.



A typical day in the office, camera sweeps the room on a Monday morning, which is starting to bustle for the day’s activity and lands on an empty cubicle filled with unwashed cups and coffee dregs. The telephone rings, but no one is there to pick up AKK’s call. The other colleagues have their own lines. After a while, the telephone goes silent and in a sudden burst of flurry, AKK rushes into the office cubicle to dump her bag and hastily picked up her office phone, after dropping it once.

‘Hello hello?’ the other end is silent. And then there was a buzz emanating from the bag AKK has just dumped onto the floor.


‘Jidan!’ and the next flurry of movement saw her smashing the office phone back and rammaging through…



‘Hi!’ the handphone was unclamped and jammed to her head.



A familiar voice came through tentatively



‘May I speak with AKK? Ed here.’



AKK heaved a huge sigh of relief. It wasn’t a customer, Fren Ed had been chatting with her on msn yesterday.


‘Ohhhh hi…it’s you! Been looking for you!’


‘You have?’ an curious uplift in the voice. ‘good, been looking for you too, you have time to spare?’


‘Sure sure! I’m going to the toilet, so no prob.’


‘Er….i dun need to know that.’


‘That’s what I usually say if I need a break lah, no worries.’


‘Really?’


‘All the time, man. So what’s up?’


‘I need a favour.’


‘Sure. What do you need?’



A sense of foreboding crept through while AKK’s mouth rambles on, she is vaguely aware that her peanut cranium, usually sluggish pre-kopi, is starting to warm up and run. Something’s happening here, but she isn’t registering yet.


‘I need you to write a memo.’


‘Memo? What memo?’ the brain decides to revved up suddenly. And a flood of ESP subconscion decides to finger itself out through her head.


The voice paused, as if realizing something is wrong also, then responded slowly, as if testing out an idea.


‘Erm, I need you to write a memo…for your project….’


An extra large finger flicked AKK’s grey matter with a huge TONK!


A nail falls and a bulb lit up. The sense of foreboding casts its net and envelopes AKK like spidey’s web with unadultered anxiety.


‘Memo....’ I quavered. ‘A memo, for my project? As in, work project?’


There was a smile underneath that tone. It had figured out and was enjoying the moment.


‘Of cos. Was there another project? I don’t remember giving you more than one.’


And then,

'Big Boss? Is that you?'


A sigh. "Yes, AKK, it's your BIG boss calling you.'


‘DIRECTOR! Oh, I’m so sorry! I thought you were my fren! I’ve got a lot of Ed names called frens, ‘ I cringed. ‘I mean, fren names called Ed……oh I’m so sorry!!!!! Oh my God, no wonder you were directed from the office phone ’ I wailed, the past 3 minutes running through and snippets of conversation screaming behind AKK's sockets. ‘I knew there was something wrong about this call!’


A chuckle. ‘That’s ok. So can you finish the memo by 5 pm today?’


Another wave of embarrassment threaten to sink her.


‘Sorry sorry. Oh my God…I really didn’t think….I mean …..You sound just like my fren……. ‘ AKK sputters, then paused and finally got a grip on herself.


She cleared her throat.


‘Yessir. You’ll have it on your table by 4pm today.’ The tone was cool, calm and collected, exactly opposite to her gushing, bleeding, humiliated heart.


‘Wow, what a big change! OK, thanks. I hope you enjoyed this toilet break! Bye!’ And the line went as dead as AKK’s professional reputation.


The camera finishes its round of the office atmosphere, then refocuses on one worker as she unglued her handphone from her ears. If this were a silent show, she would have won grammys for her facial depiction under the category of ‘hearing bad news’. Life can be cruelly funny sometimes.


Light dims out.


OUT!

Next up is Keisha’s (PPQ series) crush!

It's all about the letter 'B', voice blog vol. 8

Hi all!!


Long time no write! sorry siah, as you know lah....been busy with loads of things lah, mostly work and Life, so ah...either didn't have the time to write or else busy until never communicate with my frens and office ppl long enough to have something interesting other than work work and wmore work.

But hey! Today's different! I've done a VOICE BLOG cos its so much easier to say what i wanted to write. In order not to give anything away, i'd rather not mention anything about it here, so just pls go to this VOICE BLOG and enjoy yourself.



Caution: It's a bit long, but be patient cos it's always funnier towards the end. :)


That's all, guys!


Out!


AKK

The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol. 12

EDIT: The link was faulty, thanks to Desparate Addict for pointing it out. Solved liao, the link is actually about this male colleague that I was slightly crushing becuase of his lovely voice (point 4)


Hi all!



I sure bet you guys are surprised that there is another PPQ entry after the whole fiasco. Well, me too! But this time, it ain’t connected to LK liao and is just an episode by itself (I hope), otherwise the whole world should just end right about now.



The night was young when we gathered at the Balcony. The whole office was out to celebrate their performance bonus and also as a belated birthday treat to that cute Scottish guy (close to 50) whom I’d earlier talked about.



The Balcony had a great décor, which is the only thing I like about the place. The drinks were over-priced and horrors of horros, they did not have Frangelico, something I had come to accept as the rule of thumb that all ‘gold standard’ pubs should have, even if the bartender didn’t know he had it, which was what happened in IndoChine, heng for my fren’s sharp eye in locating the bottle hidden behind the Kahlua.



And best, the waitress was a young, pretty and slim affair in tight jeans and a shirt with a bad attitude and bored expression. I hate seeing these waitresses, you know? They have this ‘it’s-because-there’s-no-ang-mohs-around-so-I’m-taking-your-orders’ kinda look. She’s even less friendly than the door bitch, who actually smiled and welcomed a 20-strong bunch. OK, I know the Singaporeans don’t tip, but with the waitress (I’m-cerified-SPG) demeanor, we wun be tipping even if it’s customary. Hell, I’d charge them 5% for bad service. I mean, look at us!! We are peace-loving, law-abiding, even boring scientific personnel who won’t ever give you lip. We may all look fricking poor and unable to pay for that 1-for-1 1/2pint of Heineken, but that’s only because we just came from a biohazard warzone and don’t want to ruin our French cuffs and tarnish our Silver.



As if on cue, I was slated as the spokesperson for the group, since I have a carrying voice and can call up an octave higher than the boombox to get myself heard in any circumstance. So imagine my absolute chagrin having to deal with a sour face and rallying the large group to decide on their drinks quickly.



In the midst where everyone give their orders while the waitress’ face grew more sour at the load she had to carry, I took a quick look to survey my office group. Somehow the males and females found themselves all sitting in perfect symmetry around the round table like a split piechart depicting gender, with me right in the middle of the gals.



Then I heard this high-pitched giggle that was even more grating than my best Mariah Carey impersonation. I turned away from the bored face taking down the orders to note that discord.



It may be by chance, but PPQ is right where the split had ocurred and was seated beside that Scottish ang moh, giggling hysterically at something he said.



My mood soured like the waitress’ expression.



I snapped, ‘Has everyone ordered?’


A chorus of ‘Yes, Ma’am’, ‘Of cos, bring on the booze!’, ‘Yuppers!’ and ‘Aye’ went through the crowd.



All except the one I had my eyes trained on.



She was still giggling about God-Knows-What and was totally oblivious to my question, batting her expressive eyes at Mr Scottish Brogue.



Geez….someone save me from having to deal with her.



I snapped more loudly, ‘PPQ! Have you ordered?’



Already 1 cocktail above par before we even started drinking, her eyes were doing their usual yuan-liu-liu dew-drop-look I’d come to abhor on the unsuspecting Ang-moh, until Keisha elbowed her, rather sharply, I might add, and shoved the menu into her hands.



I was contemplating slapping my palm to my face while PPQ picked up the drinks menu as if she’d never seen before and opened it, all the while exclaiming in her ingratiatingly sweet-16 high pitched falsetto, ‘Oh …My …God! Have you all ordered?! Oh! I’m so sorry! Oh I didn’t Know! Sorry, AKK! Oh No! Whatever shall I drink?! So many Choices?! OH! OH!….’



I gritted my teeth when she went on auto-pilot, her Damsel-in-distress, perplexed voice and actions, eyes shining from some inner pain at the choice of so many drinks, and the bafflement of having to make a decision…’ Oh! Oh! I can’t decide!’




This went on for like 10 seconds…Oh! Which drink shall I choose?! Oh! OH!!....which in the beat of a pub or club, considered to be a million years too long a drag of the waitress’ time and my own patience.



‘Kuai dian lah!’ I snapped again. It was that or reach over and throttle her fat neck.



And to think that earlier when in the MRT, I actually deigned to make small talk with her because of the rule of proximity. I mean, you can hardly ignore her when the MRT after-office hour crush made sure the 2 of you were nose to nose at the same metal bar.



Quick! Something nice to say, my Social Ettiquette decided to take order from my Tih Kong side. A digression here: other people have the angel and the devil on their shoulders to guide their choices, I’ve got my Tih-kong and the Yan Luo Wang.



‘Er…that’s a nice dress you’ve got on.’ I spoke to her, slowly, as if listening to an inner voice. ‘It made you.... look slim.’ My Social Ettiquette sang my praises and gave me A++ to report to Tih-Kong.



‘Oh, thank you! What a nice thing to say! But it is true that I have slimmed down a bit! In fact, I..’ and she went on. After a while, I re-affirmed why I decided not to be her friend. I can’t deal with a self-centered person or rely on one. It is that simple.



Then of cos the inevitable happened, while Keisha begins to join the waitress in rolling her eyes, and PPQ worked herself into a hysterics over 3 running pages of strange drinks, Mr Scottish Brogue cuts in gently and asked in his lilting brogue.



‘How about Heineken? It’s a good beer. They are having a 1-for-1.’



The Crouching Tiger in me growled. It’s not that I’m jealous, seriously, it’s the inability of men to not fall for these types of displays, be they young or old.



I guess we should all have foreseen it, especially for someone as starved of attention as PPQ, but you see, in the company we are all Ikan Billis under division bosses and Mr Scottish Brogue is Keisha and Jane’s BOSS. So at the very least, I take it that a big huge fricking Golden Rule would be that there’s always a limit to who you should or shouldn’t target on professionally.



The next few hours after that made me cringe and shudder, and it all started because of 1 single detail. PPQ, upon hearing his suggestion, turned 180 degree to bestow him her dazzling liquid eyes of gratitiude for relieving her the duty of thinking, then coiled her arms around his left arms and squeezed it against her tits, the menu falling open on the table-top.



OK, so I was being crude. In other more civilized words, she hugged his arm. All the while exclaiming to a crowd who, for some reason or other, looking all over the place except at her, ‘that is a Great Suggestion. Oh! Oh! I’ll share it with you, I can’t drink so much! Oh! Thank you!’



Mission accomplished, the waitress rolled a final eye and went off, knees creaking. The whole ordeal couldn’t have lasted more than 2-3 minutes, but it felt like I had been subjected to a movie marathon starring PPQ.



As time wore on, the drinks arrived and left, and arrived and left…everyone was in a state of fun, because we had brought cards and were playing happily away. If you don’t look too closely through the inebriated haze of my present company, you won’t actually notice that PPQ had suddenly decided to make Mr Scottish Brogue the center of her Universe, eyes tuned onto him, both looking at each others’ poker cards, deciding to pick or stay. If you immerse yourself in front of the booming speakers, you can safely pretend that the occasional hyena laugh did not, in fact, issue constantly from the right side of the circle.



And while Mr Scottish Brogue is slightly bewildered at the high receptivity of his wit, he was nevertheless undergoing something I’d seen in all the other guys who ever had the pleasure to be bestowed by PPQ’s charms. Now would be the time to tell you that Mr Scottish Brogue is currently single and straight at the age of 50.



After a particularly bad bout of giggling, Jane , keisha and I called a time-out and excused ourselves to go to the ladies.



The first few minutes were carried out in silence while we attended to our ablution, then,



‘Did you see that?! I thought I’d go blind!’

‘Wah lau! I can’t believe she’s trying to hook our boss! Yeuks!’

‘He’s falling for it, argghhh! I thought he had more brains!’

‘Our boss! Our boss!’

‘They’re 20 yrs apart!!!’

‘Stupid woman!’

‘Stupid Man!’

‘Actually , he might not be stupid what, he’s ang-moh leh, they very liberal one.’

‘Helloooo!!! 25 yrs apart? Like twenty-five?? TWENTY-FIVE? She could be his daughter leh.’

‘Haiyah, she may be only 10 yrs old mentally but she technically legal liao, you can’t stop her from hugging his arms and whispering in his ear?’


We all paused for a moment.


‘Choujidan lah, Jane, can you please or not? I escaped here to run away from seeing PPQ repeatedly squeezing closer and closer to him leh, now you make me remember the scene again.’



‘Sorry lah, it’s not easy to forget anyway what. You come here also no use.’



‘Argh,’ Keisha was saying carefully, ‘Are you telling me that basically, it is possible that our boss, might just actually think that PPQ is eligible to take back home?’


‘Of cos, why not?’


‘Yah, of cos, all women have holes, even PPQ.’


There was another pause.


Keisha and Jane companionably put their arms around my shoulder while I clapped a hand to my mouth.


‘Pwah, can see somebody like cannot take it hor.’


‘Your hot hot hubby waiting for you at home not enough ah? Remember leh, You said 25 yrs old difference leh.’


‘Haiyah, it’s not about Mr Scottish Brogue lah, it’s about her lah. Firstly, which guy wouldn’t like a free meal of sweet young corn, right? Secondly hor, and I know you 2 lor, you’ll probably want to make sure nobody gets hurt tonight and already I’m feeling the horrible lousy responsibility liao. I mean, why do I bother right? Why do WE bother? If she wants to lose it tonight, I say let her lah. And if your boss wants her tonight, then OK lor, then I’ll know who he is behind that nice voice liao. Like that, my crush also died early death.’


‘Anyway,’ I mumbled again. ‘Anyone who can’t see her for who she is hor, isn’t worth my time.’


‘Haiyah,’ Keisha’s turn. ‘It’s very easy why we should help whenever we can. Because this here is my boss, I don’t want to lose respect for him if he decides that PPQ is easy prey tonight. I’d rather he don’t do this type of thing in the presence of the whole office. If he likes, he should get-together with her again without our knowledge.’




‘Yup,’ replied Jane. ‘We are essentially helping our boss preserve his own image, even if PPQ doesn’t want hers.’



‘Oh.’ I thought about it. ‘OK then, as long as it’s we’re not helping PPQ for PPQ’s sake.’



With that, we left the restroom.

PPQ was steadily going drunk, even with just a pint of Heineken. So for the rest of the night, Keisha piled PPQ with water while I accompanied her to the restroom, holding her arm. She was only half a pint from being wasted, judging by how she’s walking. Once again, I have this funny feeling that her life till now must have been truly blessed. She seems like an utter walking prey, she’s easy on the eye, can’t take booze but like to go pubs, have absolutely no sense of preservation towards men, can’t think, no brains and yet! She is currently having the time of her life while being take care of by worried people like us, who are having less and less fun with every second.



When time came for us to go home, I was thoroughly awake, sober and feeling instinctively that if the whole world were to be a large party right now, I’d be tidying up in the kitchen while PPQ does the congo line in the throng, splashing champagne all over herself. Such is the luck of the knowing.



On the way home, we send a happily muttering PPQ with some frens staying in the same area off in a cab. Mr Scottish Brogue and I are sharing the same cab due to our proximity. On the trip back, we had a little chat.



‘You know, lass, PPQ is such a great person. I never knew she was so much fun.’



‘Really? Oh, but we are all fun people, actually.’ Just that we don’t normally rub against other people so much, I muttered.



‘She blew me a kiss!’ Mr Scottish brogue’s voice was full of wonderment. ‘Do you think she likes me?’



My goodness, how the mighty have fallen. The final smattering of crushy feeling for his lovely voice curdled like cheese in me. All I could think about was: You’re 50! She’s 26! She can be your daughter!!! Why are you even considering the option?!’



‘PPQ is a very friendly person.’ My voice gave nothing away.



‘Of cos, she is….very!’ his tone took on a reflective tinge. I bet he must be thinking of his left arm right now.



I wished the driver to drive faster so I could leave the car before he goes under. We have heard from others that while he holds his drinks very well, he tends to open up very fast under alcohol and laments consistently about his singlehood.




And then, without preamble, ‘I’ve been lonely for 10 years.’ His hush puppy eyes grew sad.




I was prepared for this though, ‘No worries lah, I’m sure there’s someone out there for you. With a voice like that, gals find it hard to resist!’



He chuckled and said, ‘you’re a bomb, AKK, making an old man like me happy.’



Another ruminative 5 minutes passed in the cab while I feverishly wished the wheels to grow wings.



And then, ‘Are you a friend, AKK?’


‘Hmm…I don’t see why not I’m not a friend to you actually.’


‘Because sometimes I think I always mistake people’s friendship for interest, you know? I get foolish as I get older. I mix things up and hope too much.’


‘Well, most times, relationships do come from being friends first.’


I noted a distinct change in the air as I said that. Mr Scottish Brogue regarded me seriously in the darkness of the cab as we sped through the city lamps, flicking light through the windows.


Then he said, in that Scottish brogue that I used to like a lot for, but which has since today ceased to amuse, ‘AKK, do you think a relationship can come from this friendship?’


I looked him directly in the eye. By now, I was sure the cab driver is cocking a ear to our conversation, which was the reason he was weaving slightly and picking up speed to get me home first.



‘You know what?’ I said very gently, to this lonely man, with his twinkling eyes and melodic voice, now turned serious in his plea for companionship. ‘I think that a friendship……..is much much more important than a relationship. Jane and Keisha and me are here for you because you are our friend.’ I emphasized the point.



The taxi cruised to a stop. I’d arrived home. I said goodbye and got off the cab, leaving a decidedly more dejected Scotsman than before and returned home to my husband, whereupon I told him every single thing, even re-enacting PPQ’s voice and hyena act and finally the conversation on the trip back.



A took it all into his stride, laughed when the entertainment was on and patted me on the head for my reply, then we tucked in and bed down for the night.



A is my best friend. There is no other friendship I’d like to turn into a relationship anymore.

Out,

AKK :)

Tired....

Dear all,





Look, I know I've neglecting my blog....



But....but....



I'm tired....so tired.... Been working so hard... We had a change of bosses here....so everyone's jobscope has been re-arranged, streamlined and categorised....





It's not that I don't like my job. It's just that I love playing more. It's not that i dun love the projects I'm spearheading, it's having to deal with group members that I abhor...





I mean...sometimes, you just wished you have 10 pairs of hands, 3 brains and 4 PCs to type away, without having to handle and manage team members....


Oh well, what to do? I took their pay increment and performance bonus and renewed my contract....


Looks like I'll be around there for a while....


see ya all and miss ya....*sniff*


AKK

Waxing Lyrical Over Small things Vol 1

Hi all!

Recently I’ve been in a poetic mood. Not the Robert Burn ‘my love is like a red red rose’ kind, but rather the retro Haiku mood, which is ancient, but like platform wedges, are flying the high wave in comtemporary literature. Since my relationship with alcohol is starting to turn into a soppy love, and however much I always thought poems are too drippy, I have succumbed enough to wax lyrical over it. And since we are at it, why not just continue?

A haiku is a basic 5 syllabus-7 syllabus-5 syllabus poem, which can be adapted to different syllabus length for English, as long as the alternate lines have the same number of syllabus. Hence, 3-5-3, 7-5-7, etc etc are all viable. Usually Haikus are used for everyday occurrences with the last sentence slightly incongruent to the subject and yet able to sum up the earlier 2 sentences appropriately. But that said, it doesn't mean I can do it, and most common haikus don't, but they still read fine.


It’s terrible if you are forced to do it during lit class, but amazingly easy when there’s no pressure. I welcome anyone to pen a short haiku in this entry. I also think Haikus are here to stay, so expect more in the future.



For now, there’s my ode (5-7-5) to the amazing Chocolate Cake shooter, a recipe brought back by JayWalk from the Land of Dragons. No, it did not come from the Land of Dragons, it came from this ang-moh guy in the land of dra.....ok, i was a bit hazy on the details after my 3rd....




Pass the lips and down

Sugar-coated lemon wedge


One shot to Heaven





And here’s another one (7-5-7) when I encountered a super-shitty workday. R(A), you have been warned:



Had a God-awful Monday

4 more days to go


Kan Nee Na Beh Chao Ch** B**







For today’s entry, what less but to expound about myself?


Ode to Ang Ku Kueh:



Peanut Paste Pastry

Eaten past its Sell-by Date


Emergency Room



Anyone for haiku? How about one about your blog nick? Be sure to tell me!

Out!


AKK :)

Tears over Scrambled Eggs....

Dear all,

i know lot of people here would like to know lots more details about PPQ and are wondering if the series are going to go on. I promise you, if there’s anything, I’ll be the first to update. Just so that you know, everything’s in real-time, yes? So that means that when nothing happens, nothing gets blogged. And sad to say, for the readers, PPQ has decided that I’m not fit for personal conversations anymore. On my part, my Bacardi days have become less and less, which is good for the pocket and the liver. I’m not sad she doesn’t confide in me. If I was, it’ll only be because I couldn’t write more about her in my blog. What kind of person would I be, yea?



Yesterday, I went out on date with a bunch of people I had not seen in a while. I was enjoying myself immensely and increasingly with every alcohol, so when my handphone beeped today morning, I was under the covers still and trying to swat it.



It was a female friend and since her voice sounded a bit quavery, I gave a groan and forced myself to wake up. When I called her back 10 minutes later, she sounded normal again.



Why, gal? What’s wrong? I asked her.



It’s nothing, she replied, I think I just called on the whim. We’ve not met a while, how are you?


So far so good, but come on, I know something’s up. Care to spill?



There was a sigh from the other end.


Ok, but when I’m finished, don’t hold it against anyone.


Woah, sounds bad. Ok I promise.


You know yesterday you were calling me to ask me where I was? Actually I was right in the heart of Clarke Quay, in XYZ pub.


Really? Then why didn’t you tell me? I was at ABC, I could have met you up!


Aiyah, I was with frens mah. Listen to me first, can?


Okok, sorli sorli, do go on.


You know how it is rite? My hubby nowadays very busy, doesn’t have much time for me. So I’ve been going out a bit more often and meeting up with frens. Then yesterday nite, I was feeling quite buzzed. My frens called other frens who called others so it turned out to be a really big crowd all sitting together.


Yah, and then?


So of cos, everyone got passed around from known to unknown, trying to make frens etc etc.


Uh-huh, I replied, thinking about my own gathering yesterday. Did something happen?


Nah….only that I got a few people trying to hook me. I was wearing a short skirt.


Hehehhe….that’s hardly surprising. I imagine her long legs, usually encased in loose jeans, clad in a short skirt. Any number of guys would go panting after her. But like me, she married pretty early.


So what? That's all you want to say? You called me early just to tell me you scored a few guys' business cards?


No, Akk, will you just listen?


OK OK….sorli sorli….go on pls.



Akk, I haven't felt this good in a long while. Haven't been out like this, doing the 'pub rounds' since I left PR. It's like all these are new to me and I'm this green gal happily sucking up the attention…..I felt so flattered…


And?


And….and this morning, I woke up bright and cheerful and happy. So this was how I felt when I made breakfast for hubby.


And?


So when he was watching the news and reading his papers in the living room, I just asked him from the kitchen, would you like toast or cereal, he said toast. I asked would he like eggs, he said yes and then I asked him if he's them scrambled and soft-boiled, he said.....



What did he say?



The hitch in her voice came back again.


He said, any damn eggs will do, why you want to shoot me so many questions in the morning? Why can't you shut up?


Oh...


Akk, her voice sounded dangerously hoarse now. My heart just suddenly lurched and it hurt. Just standing in the kitchen, with a saucepan in one hand, eggs in the other, I just started tearing up. All I could think about was that I'm the greatest wife in the world, that I don't care that guys still try to screw me just because I’m a pair of legs but I don't let them, that I think about him all the time and whether his job is working him too hard and that I made myself wake earlier every single day, hangover or not, and worry about his breakfast and whether he prefers his eggs scrambled, hard-boiled or soft!



My friend fell silent after this outburst. I could tell she's crying.


Where is he now? I asked.


Eating breakfast.


And you?


I'm now in the bathroom. She sniffed. I don't care how many business cards I get from cute strangers, I just want him to see me again. He didn’t even blink at my skirt.


I sighed and rubbed my temples. Don't think too much, dearie. Everything's ok, I shushed her with nonsensical words while she snuffled quietly on top of the toilet seat, her husband sittng just a room away, eating his blessed scrambled eggs and toast obliviously.


Why don't you talk to him?


Nah...I can't keep him from his work. He's in a difficult phase now.


We chatted a while till she calmed down long enough to put down the phone and go back to sleep for her hangover.


Hang in there, ok? My parting words for her before she hung up.


Yes, Ma'am. Now I'll go hide my puffy eyes from him, just in case he noticed.


It may not such a bad idea, him noticing.


No, I want him to see me the way those pub guys saw me yesterday.


OK, no yellow-faced fishwife, I agree.


Never! The chirp is back in her voice. Ok, gotta go, thanks for listening.


Anytime for you, dearie. Anytime.



I put down the phone. This friend is fairly special because we are very similar, our circumstances, our age and our personality. Especially our determination to find happiness in everything or anything. Lemonade from lemons and all that crap.


But sometimes, I wonder if it's a good thing. Just yesterday, steps from where my poor fren was, I was also enjoying myself with my own bunch.


‘Wah lau! Take pic with me leh, I want those 2 things inside!’ Those 2 things referring to the 2 mammaries that were, for once, in their life, released from the confines of a wire prison in public. My newly minted Victoria’s secret low-cut top came with insets to take away the necessity of wearing a bra. I can see that my accompanying friend (female) loved them a lot and tried to zoom in to the valley after the pic was taken.


A, on the other hand, didn’t say anything apart from ‘It’s quite nice, dear.’ and ‘Goes with the shoes’, then finally, ‘Time to go or we’ll be late for work.’


Lemons!


But at least he doesn’t scream at me over eggs.


Leomonade!

Sigh.........


OUT!


AKK

Letter to a Friend

First it started out as a comment on meepok's entry, then it got too long, so I transferred it here. Then the more I wrote, realised it could be meant for all, although of cos it is address to him.

Well, to all you friends and family, yes I know you all are silent readers but I'm not penalising you for not commenting, at least not today, because yesterday was a beautiful but scary day, remember to ask me if I meet up with you.


Guess I don't say it enough and seldom do, but to you, young and old, new and old, siblings, you know who you are, you have been at different times in my life, my support and strength, my joy and laughter, my sarcasm and wit. I remember still, the things you have done for me and will continue to do in future, don't worry. Thank you and love you. My Work is not my Life. You are.

********************************************

Hey Friend,


I really look forward to your entries because it’s so different from my own life. On the other hand, heng I never thought your pasture was greener, just more exciting and can take more pics since you travel so much. I stopped after taking 10 pics of my own machine. There are only so many angles you can take of it. My cubicle has loads of odds and ends of other friends souvenirs when they travel for work, on the contrary, my other friend’s cubicles are missing mine, but grudging put up pics of me posing with my machine. Heh.


My new fridge is still waiting to be filled up with fridge magnets that I vow to buy from any country that I go to. Currently, the uncovered bits stand about 99%, and my large clay mould magnet depicting the Istana takes pride of place over the remaining.


Hope that while u are working your butt off right now, you can then retire early with big big nest and play like siao to make up for it, or at the very least, ZZzzz like siao. Of cos, to spend lots of time with family, that’s a given. But currently, every now and then must slow down a bit and see the sunshine, yes? I know my life is about 100x slower and also about 1500x less important in the workforce of society, but hell, rather take it from a downtown HDB gal still worrying about money, family, work to hearing the same thing from an already ultra successful, can-take-vacation-anytime, can-spend-like-water-anytime, got-golden-family person, yes? Sounds so much more genuine.


Yesterday morning, while I was swimming, there was a circular rainbow surrounding the sun, it was beautiful and completely round. I noticed it only because I had my UV goggles on and while taking a breath during free-style, thwacked my neck. I’ve ever seen it once before and I still remember the year, the time and the place, it was an inspiring phenomenon. I rather hope all my friends saw it, but it was 8.30am in the morning and I bet they are all either sleeping off the booze or sleeping off the fatigue.

I hope u saw it too, but if you didn’t, then at least you know that it has occurred. And while life, work, money, dreams go on and people on the streets throng the traffic and buzz around like busy bees, the sky above creates a circle rainbow in silence.


Look up! :)


Out!

AKK

The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol 11.

Hi all!


Let’s get with the program! A little break from PPQ was just what the doctor ordered, since after the weight incidence, there seem like a complete increase in the number of jabs and jibes going around. As usual, given the circumstance, I’m always half wondering if she was conscious of her speech or is she truly one of Nature’s blinder creatures. Like an earthworm maybe, or a mole, but at least they are useful.


In any case, the episode today is back on track. If this blog were a TV show, there had be a deep manly voice saying, ‘And now! For more of…………. the Adventures of ………….PPQ!!!!’

And a theme song ala the Green Hornet will blare out and then onscreen, large block letters zoomed out accompanied by the same manly voice.

‘The Mystery of the Chinese Takeaway!!!’ It booms.


Yup! It is truly the subtitle for today’s entry. Of cos, taken into the asian context, perhaps it’ll be more appropriate to change it to….


The Mystery of the Hee Teng Ta-Pao!!!!!


Yup again! It’s another fish porridge episode!

Following the dearth of LK’s dramatic confession, I’ve not been in contact with him since he has finished with this side of the work for the time being. Assuring me that he’ll talk to PPQ however, doesn’t mean it’ll take place any time soon. It seemed that since the weight episode, I had become anathema. The subject of weight, which was by far her second most favourite topic, after men/potential boyfriends, has been abruptly trodden for the time being. After the incident where her large face suddenly plastered too close to mine for my comfort, I’d taken to installing a small mirror above my flat screen to monitor my rear end. Every now and then, I can see her take surreptitious glances at me, trying her best to see exactly where 7kg of flesh might have disappeared to in a space of 2 weeks without her knowledge. Other than that, things seemed to have gone to ground.

But during the rest of the week, I caught snatches of conversations between PPQ and the younger colleagues. Not joining the conversation, I nevertheless heard the murmurings of my colleagues. The words ‘LK”, ‘married’, ‘just friends’, any chances?’, ‘no more going out?’ floated out.

In this regard, I found myself incensed with PPQ’s terrible lack of sense and sensibility. Although the whole context was not wholly taken in, I’m pretty sure they were discussing the topic of LK. Following his confession, I felt it was only right to keep this news from the office or those who knows him. If he wanted to share, he can do so himself. But it’s been barely 2 weeks and already news of his married state is being spread around by PPQ herself. I heard the colleagues murmur condolences to her current ‘alone again’ state and commiserating that LK did not seem agreeable to meet up more often as ‘just friends’. I was sure that PPQ did not mean to spread it as a form of malicious gossip, but only as garnishing to her own problems of being ‘dumped’.


Ever since the recent hoo-haas, I’ve also stopped talking to her on a personal level. I just can’t seem to get enough heart and feelings to open my mouth. It is the truth that I no longer wanted to know what’s going on in her life. It bears no significance, no weight, no effect, not even a ripple to my own, since I don’t care for her the way I do the others. It will soon also spell the demise of this series, but at the very least, today’s entry won’t be much of a disappointment. It involves, of all things, very curious bowl of fish porridge (again) and a cup of regular kopi.


I’d like to say that LK and PPQ have it all over between them. Unfortunately, the episode of LK+PPQ hasn’t ended in the murmurings of the office gals. It is true that LK did eventually tell her, once on a Thursday to roughly run over his sob story, then again on a Sunday, for emphasis. All these, I gleaned from LK on one of his visits for another service, spending approximately 5min at the water dispenser filling me in.


To say that PPQ is upset is an understatement, she is back to ground zero ie nobody loves me. But following LK’s advice, she has stopped borrowing those relationship self-help books.


Nowadays she reads How to Say YES! to Life.


You had have thought everything’s finally gone back to normal. So the next few days were a breeze. No jabs, jibes, complaints, or any topics on LK, men, their eligibility or lack of, her eligibility or lack of and of cos, weight, hers and the rest of the office’s. When the end of the week swung around, I actually thought we could all get through this without a peep. To celebrate, I decided to once again attend the card sessions that were held in the office every lunchtime. And so when the freer gals came around to take order for takeways so we can hole up in office, I asked for rice, 2 veg and 1 meat. Another colleague, Penny, gave her order and also PPQ’s order, which she had passed to her before she went to do some lab work.


Half way through working at the PC in the office, I heard Penny received an SMS beep. Immediately after, she called the gals who was catering for us.


‘Hey, listen up! No need buy for PPQ liao. Her secret admirer bought lunch for her already!’ she chimed.

Silence and then, ‘No no, you have to buy for me, but not for PPQ. She got lunch, but you mustn’t forget me! I don’t have secret admirer like her lah!’ she chuckled.


A red loud siren twirling the words ‘Blog Entry Alert!’ flew a merry-go-round my head. I pinged Penny on MSN.


‘Oy Oy, buy lunch for her liao, how to be secret admirer anymore?’


‘Dunno leh. She just SMS me to revert the order.’


‘Orh…so is a guy ah?’ OK, I could have been more subtle….


‘Yah, she say he delivering.’

‘So nice ah? I must see who later.’


‘Heheheh….inform me if hansem hor.’


So ends the msn interlude. Soon the colleague left and I was alone in the office. I clicked on my blog URL.




Just as I was thinking distractedly and touching up on my entry, a sudden tap on my shoulder and a cheerful ‘hi!’ sent me almost scrambling to either topple the PC screen or use my body as a shield.


‘What what?’ I looked around anxiously. I had just used my mirror to check my itchy eyes and then misplaced it flat on the table. LK’s face loomed above it.

Piak! On came the Google default window to cover the familiar green template of akkueh.blogspot.com and I turned around to match him face to face, eye to eye with a suspiciously bright smile.


‘Heyyyyy……!! Long time no see!! How are you doing?’ I noticed 2 cups of coffee in a cardboard holder and a lunch of fish porridge in his hands. A vague idea formed in my mind….. Interesting….


For the sake of things, I asked politely, although I already knew the answer.


‘Who’s the lucky person you bought lunch for?’


He looked at his offerings, then calmly went to PPQ’s table and put the foodstuffs on it. Then he unscrewed a cup of kopi and nursed it in his hands and replied, ‘For PPQ.’


‘Huh? Like that only ah? Elaborate leh.’ I teased


He frowned. ‘No special meaning. She sms me to help her buy lunch. Since I was already out lunching, I replied sure and helped.’


Ho ho ho….someone’s being funny and it’s not him.


I made myself a cup of kopi and asked, ‘You already talked to her, right? I thought you did?’


‘Yup.’


‘Left anything out?’

‘Nope, but it’s a watered down version, none of the dramatics.’


I motioned him to the meeting room. ‘There’s something I need to tell you….’


‘What what? Do I do something wrong again?’ As I kindly ushered him to a seat.


‘Well, you bought lunch for her.’


‘Only cos she asked for it! If I wasn’t eating myself, I wouldn’t have gone any extra mile. Not after talking with her.’


‘So you didn’t sms her and asked her if she’s hungry?’


He was indignant. ‘Unless my HP can type itself, I hardly think so.’


I went for broke. ‘Did you know in our office, we have our own tapao system?’


‘Really? Then why did she sms me?’


A moment of chagrin marched across his face. Then his jaw dropped.


‘Nooooo….’


I grinned. I was enjoying this moment a little too much.


‘Yyyyeeessss….’


‘You sure?’


‘Yup. Today, one order was cancelled at the last moment.’


‘Why?!’


He looked so scared for a moment that I laughed.


‘Be sure to tell me if you dare to ask her.’


He stared at his empty cup of coffee.

‘Great! I thought the whole thing’s solved…I told you I told her twice…First time on Thursday when she called me and second time on Sunday when she came over.’


‘Eh…aftershock?’ I chortled again. An idea occurred. I announced expectantly.


‘In fact, some girls react badly if you rock their world.’


Silence met this statement a moment longer than was necessary. I tried again.


‘As in you? Like when she met you, you Rock her World? And then metaphorically, when you gave her the bad news, you rocked her world again? You know?’ I coughed.


His jaw closed and his eyebrow lifted in a look of disgust.


‘Wah lau! You very corny, you know?’ He burst out.


‘Hur hur hur….thank you thank you. Incidentally, corn don’t have knees, they have ears.’ A memory of some sort was trying to bug me in the last few seconds, but I couldn’t quite catch it.


With that retort, LK grimaced at the chilliness of the joke and whacked me on the shoulder with his empty cup while I laughed away. He grabbed me by the lanyard around my neck to bring me closer to the security door so he could get himself away from me. 5 seconds later, he was out the door and saying goodbye. Through it all, my sub consciousness was screaming at me and trying to get my attention.



Half way down the corridor, it hit me. I ran to a retreating LK.



‘She went over to YOUR PLACE??!!!’ I shouted. The echo sped through the walls. He spun around, startled.


‘Huh?’


‘You said she came over. To your place?’


He relaxed.


‘Hah! I know what you’re thinking! She came but she stayed at the void deck, yes? I didn’t invite her to my place.’


‘Unbelievable….’ I’m trying my best not to think my colleague is completely off her rocker but it’s getting harder everyday.



‘Believe it. This tapao thing isn’t too bad already. When I saw the sms was from her, I was filled with utmost dread, so imagine my happiness when it was just an ordinary request to help get a meal.’


‘Wow…’



‘Gotta go, gal. Before she comes back from her lab. Best to not see her in the next few days. I’ve got work to do.’ Then he spun around and took off.



While I can’t be too sure, I have a feeling that the PPQ series, or at least the LK/PPQ episodes are drawing to a close. LK definitely came off the whole thing the wiser for it, while PPQ remained essentially the same. A bit eccentric, but no less beguiling to other men. Beats me, but I just heard there’s yet another guy going after her. Perhaps one day she may indeed find the one person who suits her. Of cos, he’ll probably be dumber than a puppet with its mouth glued shut and emptier than an open packet of chips in a rat’s nest (I’ve been watching too much Hannah Montana), but hey, there’s one for everyone out there, ya?



Out!


AKK.

Working...

Hi all!



For those anxious for epi 11, very sorry, I have been working my fucking ass off....


Check back in a few day? or at least till I calm down after labour day......


There's another 24 hr day on the way....



Tired,


AKK :)


Thanks you guys for visiting and those kind words.:)

Let's take a break from PPQ.....

Hi all!


I found this from Nadnut:


We all have things about our friends that make us slightly envious. Not in a bad way, but in a ‘Wow! I wish I had that person’s boobs/eyes/money/relationship/nose hairs/whatever.’ So tell me what about me makes you envy me. . . then post this in your blog and see what makes me envious of you.

******************


I only realise I have great depths of envy only after commenting on her entry, telling her what I envy about her. A sign of person with low self-esteem.

So trying hard to remember the TS theory, this is a rallying call to those out there who reads me. Is there something you want to tell me?

Let's make it a frank feedback. good stuff and bad stuff, all comments welcome. everyone always needs to hear both sides of a story (although in my blog, its always one-sided).


PPQ series will resume after this message.




OUT!


AKK

The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol 10

Hi all!

As usual, the disclaimer: if you have been reading the series, thanks again. if you have arrived by accident, after a long while, or just passing through, pls click on the right side panel for the start of this series (vol 2 will connect you to vol 1, vol 6 will connect you to all the previous vol on this series). Very sorry about this, but we are in the mid-end of a running series, so there's a lot of character buildup and plot twist, so pls take some time to update from the start. :) Thanks!


It's highly impossible for me to even stick around on anything for so long, so having the PPQ series reach its 10th episode is a wonder in itself to behold, not just its contents.

so while everyone has been faithfully updating on the series, i thank you all. Hope it has been as exciting to read as it is to write.

Without further ado, here's the latest installment.


*************************************


'The weighing machine is spoilt!' came the plaintive wail as i walked over. It was a Wednesday Evening and the office gym was packed with office people trying to get fit. Well, some will walk leisurely and pose in front of the mirror after every pump of the iron, while some, instead on concentrating on their breathing, are furtively looking around the room for someone 'to lend a hand to', it takes all sorts to visit the gym. PPQ, for all her flights of fancy, religiously uses the gym really to get fit. I mean, I think so. Well, what i really think, i probably can't write down or ppl will say I'm biased.


In any case, today is to answer the OTHER question that has not been posted in the previous entry, mainly because our subject wasn't PPQ last time. It's to disclose the 5kg-bag-of-rice-overestimate to our darling innocent. Actually, this episode almost didn't happen. After i had given PPQ the challenge and the hug (which I've been bathing 5 times a day to wash off the imprint unsuccessfully), in typical AKK fashion, I've gotten lazy and tired again. You see, the immediate gratification of emotional uncertainty i bestowed on her had been served, resulting in a sudden accumulation of gym 'hurghh!!!' (pumping grunts) per week, so after the 3rd day seeing her enter the office looking grey-eyed and 'ouching' her way tenderly whenever she moved from her seat, I had naturally felt guilty enough to not go through with the final insult to injure her equally tender emotional status by showing her I wasn't that heavy to begin with.


So this current episode exists because after the Bacardi moment, a close fren of mine, who had been following my series diligently, almost collapsed in agitation when I merely hinted that I was going to be nice about the whole weight issue. After enduring a half-hour of scolding, first on my laziness, then on PPQ's lousy-shame-to-all-women tirade, said fren finally cajoled me by saying that she is much too interested in what PPQ's reaction would be than to worry about the morality of sniggering at other people's weaknesses.


Hence I relented and played out the whole scene with artistic aplomb.


Never let it be said that AKK is a bad fren. The glee that came with it is moot.


Back to the scene of the crime. PPQ's wail carried like a whale's ultrasound. It was too soft and high to be detected in normal-day communication, but its persistent tinny texture grates on the chalkboard of your nerves so much that while you probably missed the dialogue, you can easily detect the buzzing quality fom across the length of the room.


For my part, I had also diligently took up exercising again. It's true that motivation can drive a person to do great things, but motivation from PPQ drove me up the wall. Never had I felt so much energy at the prospect of starting the exercise regime once more. Perhaps anyone would be able to throw off that mantle of disgust, but every single step I pounded onto the treadmill, a litany of 'I want to be smaller than PPQ' rolled off like a tape recorder.


So by the time Wednesday came around (so good I was, I gave her 2 weeks), I was feeling great and happier than ever. seeing her walking over to the scale made my heart leap in joy (and shudder at my fren's chiding). Now's the time.


'What is?' I chirped from behind her. I had been running, I'm sure she smelt me first. PPQ did an impressive pirouette in horror. i must admit that ever since she started irking me, every single action of hers looked over-done and cutesy. She's the equivalent of a wet market Auntie in Ah Lian get-up with full make-up. OK, so I'm getting personal, sue me. Never tarry with a woman's weight.


'Oh Akk,' she breathed, chest heaving in affront. 'I think the scale is spoilt. It's showing the wrong numbers.'


I looked at the electronic scale. It was patiently registering '0' while waiting for a customer.


'I don't see how, it's balanced.' I pointed out.


'I'll show you.' and she stood on it. The electronic numbers jumped to 60kg.


'See?' she exclaimed. 'It's spoilt! a week ago, it showed me 58kg! There must be something wrong. I worked out quite a lot, should have gone down again this week.' Her voice was pitching higher, an indication her Majesty is getting upset.


'I really am 58kg!' As if I didn't believe her. 'Why don't you try it and tell me if it's showing a few kgs heavier. If I remember, you're 57kg, right?'


She remembers! Why am I not surprised?


I shrugged and stood on the scale. Unlike PPQ, I kept all my gear on, shoes, towel and handphone. The numbers whirred and settled, to my delight, on 50kg.


I heard a gasp behind me and had to keep a straight face. It was that or start sniggering. The heavens had suddenly decided to rain lavishly on PPQ's parade. Not only was I a rice-bag lighter, according to the scale, I had gone down another 2. Furthermore, she had apparently gained some since last week.


I turned around. What was on her face was indescribable, like art is sometimes indescribable. Closest I could get? Possibly art by Edvard Munch.

Note the twist of the hips.




The actress in me raised to the occasion. Somehow seeing her overly bewildered look had made me slightly pissed too. What? Like I really don't look my weight at all? Geez....I forced a surprised look that mirrored hers and used the same breathless voice she used on me. If she had been less shocked, she would surely recognise the caricature.


'Oh My GOD!!! I'm so light? It can't be! OH my GOODNESS!' I gushed, pretending to be amazed. Then the metaphoric knife stab. 'Man, I think you are right! The scale doesn't seem very accurate!' I frowned concernedly at her horrific expression.


'We need to tell the trainer.' I continued. 'People can't go around imagining they are heavier or lighter than they should be.' And promptly I left the scene and made a fruitless trip to the staff room and made them fruitlessly switch the machine on and off using, of all things, PPQ as their weighing gauge.


I slipped away to bathe when PPQ got all angry trying to explain away to the staff why she should be 58kg, not 60kg, do you understand me? I did not put on any weight! the scale is still spoilt! And she lost 7kg, how is that possible, your scale is so unreliable!


While things couldn't have ended better in such a cinematic way, I was feeling slightly out-of-sorts the rest of the day. I supposed it's the guilt. I'm not that nice a person, but feeding people their own medicine has made me sick, because some people's medicine are really hard to swallow, even for themselves. While PPQ is probably suffering from the episode, she'll no doubt have learnt at least one thing she should never do. Comparing with others. If I were in her shoes, I'll probably never talk about my weight again and instead quietly lose all my kgs until I can finally fit that dream dress I bought to motivate myself, then go to work in triumph.



So for the next day, Jill and another close colleague, Keisha, after chortling delightfully at my summarised account, began to note a slight droop in my smile, so affected was I. Uncertain of my feelings (probably PMS) and knowing that I was being childish for cranking PPQ up, I kept to myself at the workplace. The self-imposed punishment ended abruptly on day 2 when Jill and Keisha yanked me out from my lab and plonked a bottle of Bacardi raspberry (yay!) unceremoniously on my lap in an undisclosed location (meant for slacking...SSShhhh...).


Then Keisha, the tall Amazon, who can easily fell me with a punch, sat across me in a serious manner and began her story.


***********************************



Keisha was a strapping tall lady with a very well-proportionate figure. And because of her height, she'll never be described as slim or small. She had wide shoulders that would make any model green with envy but meant she only wore size L clothes in the Asian context. To put it as accurately as possible, Keisha is eye-catching because of her height, straight shoulders and toned figure in the local sense. She had that kind of figure most men would look twice in admiration and women to look twice in awe, and not always positively. The word 'petite' will be applied to her only in a Caucasian community. What I am trying to say is: She neither fat nor consumptive. She is just right for her frame, but insipid stoopid Asian women will call her a Giant or simply Large.


And thus, the camera reverses and pans to a scene in the pantry a few months ago before all the hoo-haa started. It arrows in on one such stoopid, insipid woman, who was clueless that she'll be arguing with the weighing scale come the future. If she had known, she might not be snacking so happily on corn chips then.


The issuing conversation occurred when another colleague entered the pantry.


'These corn chips are great! You want some?'


'Oh no! No nachos for me! They just go directly to my hips. I like them so much that once I start, I cannot stop, confirm will turn into an elephant!' joked the slim colleague.


'Nonsense!' exclaimed PPQ, who couldn't stop eating the chips. 'If you are an elephant, I must be a dinosaur.'


On cue, Keisha entered the pantry to see both gals laughing. She smiled and asks, 'What's so funny?'


A sudden burst of more laughter from PPQ, who was clutching her stomach from an inner joke and then...


'Oh wait! If I'm a dinosaur, then what is Keisha?!'




**********************************************


Scene changes back to the present on a half-drunk AKK, a steadily drinking Jill and a slightly doused Keisha at the slacker's corner.


'What indeed!' Keisha huffed, waving her Heineken furiously.


Then she turned on me, who was hooting at her predicament.



'What did you say? What did you say?'



'What can I say, right? Treat the whole thing like a joke lah! Laugh along and say 'must be bigger than dinosaur lor!''


'Aiyo! So lame!'


'I cannot think of anything bigger than a dinosaur what!'


I hooted again. It's true! I myself couldn't think of a bigger animal than a dinosaur.



'Godzilla?' Piped Jill.


'You think I never considered meh? But Godzilla and Dinosaur both same size!Cannot!!' wailed Keisha in mock despair.


'Muahahhaha....' we roared in our chairs.



We laughed ourselves silly till we had no more strength, then packed up the room, removed all evidence of alcoholic involvement and went back to work with clorets in our mouths. I had regained my balance and had forgiven myself. Eating your own mdedicine might be bitter, but dishing it will make you ill.



This episode is dedicated, although they would never know, to Jill, for that slight on singlehood, and to Keisha, the Whale (we finally found one bigger), for that slight on her Amazonite frame.


Thanks for the timely intervention.




OUT!


AKK

The Sad Ping Pong Queen Vol 9

Hi all!


For those who just came in, welcome! we are nowin a full fledged running series. so feel free to scroll down for the earlier volumes. from volume 5 onwards, there are links to the first one, so thanks for taking the time to finger-clcik a little while longer.


for those who have been following, here's the latest longest episode yet.


I think you all must be waiting with bated breath to the answers to all your questions about the PPQ stories. Me? I confessed to much glee with the outcome of the series so far. Everything is so beyond expectation that I am absolutely flabbergasted. This episode will be no less dramatic. Please do remember that the whole story is true so far. There’s no addictives, MSG or other artificial colouring and flavouring added to this spicy drama. I swear. I really wouldn’t have cooked up such a storm.

So the following questions which I know you readers are thinking of, because I have thought of them myself, you’ll finally get the answer to. I’m proud to announce that I have diligently taken down all your questions and posted them to him, so it’s straight from the Horse’s mouth, LK himself. Under zero influence and hypnosis somemore! He was most willing to share.

And they are:


1. The reason why he never mentions he’s married till now.

2. Whether he told PPQ he is married.

3. What’s with the flowers on the first date?

4. How does PPQ know about the cookies? This one, I really want to know....

5. What, exactly, does he think of the fish porridge episode?


So the camera pans back to LK and AKK seated across each other over a large expanse of the meeting room table. The Ikea clock ticked its way to 7pm while the scanner hums contentedly in the background, minding its own business. Another 30 minutes and the whole thing will be done and it’ll be time to pack up and go home.


Contrary to popular belief that I’m not cut out for hard work, after the initial first so-called request to extend beyond office hours for LK, I got to entertain a few more other clients with the same treatment. Mainly because they really are nice and their bosses have finally come back from the Spring holidays to bug them about work progress. After a while, I’ve decided to hell with the office hour restrictions. After all, if the hoteliers are serving their customers ‘beyond the call of duty’, I figured that if I’m free that weekday evening, I might as well be putting a few more hours to prevent my clients from crying, which the female ones will do, since the experiment is usually kaput when it’s not ‘run’ on time.


Of cos, once an extension happens, I usually will go back to the office slightly later than usual the next day. At the end of the month, I still manage to churn in a tidy amount of profits just by being flexible with the opening hours, so why not? Boss’ happy that I seem to work longer than usual, clients are happy that their experiments are ‘served’ and I get a few more hours sleep into the morning.


So it’s a typical day at work for me. Just to set the stage, clients either sit with me to check the scan between breaks in the meeting room or to come back to collect when it’s done. LK chose the former so I was sipping my normal evening coffee kindly produced by Jill before she left while he took his lunch/dinner. I have found out that while most of my female clients eat lunch and skip dinner, it’s the other way around for the guys.


It was all good till the issuing spill from the overturned cup of kindness from Jill (hey, it rhymes!). Which left me bereft of fortification in the face of his bald statement and shall I say it, slight anger that he should chose such a moment to enlighten me and make me lose my drink. (see the previous entry)


I pulled away after he gave that cryptic answer. While a part of me is singing the high chorus for this extreme piece of juice sure to spruce up my diary, another part of me was aghast with the thought that this man is trying to play with us all. While I still believe that giving a gal flowers was a great ladykiller move, I don’t think it’s justifiable to do so after said ladykiller is married, yes?


I mean, what is he trying to proof by roping them all up like trophies when he’s obviously not available anymore?


Great! I miss my kopi and I need a Bacardi right now….



‘Why don’t you,’ I put a hand up and put the whole length of the table between us. ‘Tell me the whole story.’


He sighed and leaned back on his chair.


‘I knew people are going to look at me this way the way you are doing right now. It’s hard to change people’s immediate opinion about others.’



I bristled. I was playing the high horse and wasn’t counting on him frankly accusing me of being ‘like the rest’.


‘Sorry.’ I sighed. ‘I promise to keep an open mind.’


‘OK’ he was back to grinning again. ‘The truth is…..well, the truth is that I’m in the midst of separation.’


‘How young are you?!!’ I was aghast. He didn’t look a day over 30 and he’s getting a divorce already??


’28.’


I had a God-awful thought.


‘Oh man, she found out about the flowers, didn’t she? Your flowers for PPQ? Arrghhh….’


He laughed ruefully. ‘Nah, although it would be nice to be the one who hurts, but actually my wife left me.’


‘Why?’ Because you were infidel? But I did not say it out loud.


He crossed his ankles and lean back to stare at the ceiling. This time I would be lying if I didn’t mention that his eyes glimmered in those few short seconds under the lights. At first, I was indignant for myself, wanting to throw him into the mold of a stereotype so he wouldn’t accuse me of being narrow. However, seeing those liquid eyes suddenly brim made me feel like the worst sinner ever.


I have made a grown man tear up.


And then my timer beeped its 15th minute and made me jump in my chair. It was a complete anti-climax, but I leaped up gladly anyway and left him to recover while I check the machine.


By the time I was back, he seemed more normal, like his usual cheery self, although his eyes looked more red than usual. The suaveness had gone from his shoulder. LK has become more human. The chair creaked and he began his story.


It was by all accounts, a very sweet love-gone-wrong story. They met in school real young and spent a decade together as a couple, studying together from JC to Uni, finally accumulating in a wedding after their graduation. Newly wedded, they were poor but ambitious. The girl, in fact, had plans for post graduate studies overseas.


‘To where?’


‘Oxford’ and no less, she said. She wanted the best but wasn’t able to get a scholarship. He was ready to indulge her fully, being the newly blessed man. He never thought they could never work anything out, they had been through lots of thick and thin together. Although the entry fee alone was enough to cripple the couples’ finance, they both took multiple jobs to save. Boosted by his wife’s very obvious ambition to get a doctorate, he plunged in his whole savings into her venture.


‘The money was used for what?!’ I repeated.


‘Meant to pay the tuition fund. I took a scholarship which paid my Uni fees all the way till PHD.’


‘I don’t get it, why is there a need to save money to pay them back when you are on the scholarship?’


‘Because I didn’t want to carry on after graduation and the clause was to pay them back in full if I stop after graduation. Anything after that will be considered bond-breaking’


I gasped. ‘So you gave up the opportunity to buy your way out so she could have her dream.’


‘Yes, I never wanted to be a scholar or a postgraduate. In fact, I always wanted to go into finance, stop all this research thingy.’


‘So now that you are in it, how long is the bond?’


‘6 years, it was a longer version since it was a tuition and research scholarship combined.’


‘Fuck.’ I swore.


‘Yes.’ he agreed somberly. ‘Absolutely fucked up.’


‘You are a damn poor thing.’


‘Tell me about it.’


‘So when did you realize something was wrong?’


He shrugged. ‘The usual. We use to hold long distance calls every week. When that got too expensive, we relied on emailing. Then after a while, she said she was on a camping course with the school. Didn’t write for 2 weeks. I believed her.’


‘What was she doing then?’



He ignored my question, eyes glazed in remembrance. ‘Immediately after that, she called me and cried on the phone. I thought she was sick or got into an accident.’



‘She told me she found another guy there. Told me she couldn’t take the distance. She told me she wanted a divorce and then,' He turned his grave eyes at me. I stared back, soaking up the whole story.


‘She told me he was a banker and that I should be happy for her because she did not have to worry about money anymore.’


‘Fuck.’ I swore again. I couldn't help myself.



‘Not really. I would have flown over in another 2 weeks to surprise her. It would have been our 2nd year anniversary. It was good that she told me earlier, I cannot imagine being stranded in a foreign country knowing I wasn’t welcome.’



I sniffed. Sometimes things just have to seen as half-full even when it hurts like blazes.



‘How long has it been?’



He closed his eyes. ‘2 years. I haven’t seen her in a long while. The next trip back, she’ll be here just to sign the papers. I cannot imagine what I’ll do if I were to suddenly see her in front of me again.’



The timer leaped into life, slamming him back into the present and throwing me off my tiny perch on the seat (so engrossed I lean forward too much). Thank goodness for timers! We hurried back to the machine the final time and retrieved the data. I surreptitiously dried my eyes while the CD-R revved to life on the computer. Now I wonder if it would such a good idea to continue with the PPQ series, because it’s so invasive. I feel like a paparazzi who goes around collecting stories of other people’s private life and splashing them like front liners. Who would have thought that LK would turn out to be the one carrying the burden of hurt and anger? Compared to him, PPQ just had a nice walk in the park. Imagine if your other half, someone who pledged his/her whole life to you, turned around and said good riddance, even after you had done everything in your power to pledge your own life to theirs.



I was getting more and more upset. LK apparently send money to her every month as he slogged his way churning out tons of data in my lab, while she was happily studying away in prestigious Oxford and canoodling with a banker. Of all the things to say, she had to talk about money!



‘Oy, hello?’ I started and hastily blinked. I had been staring at the CD-writer till the CD popped out and had made no move to pass the data over to LK. I took it and handed it over while he peered at me closely.



‘There’s no need to get so upset.’



‘I don’t think I have the right to say this, but I think your wife stinks.’ I blurted out.


‘She doesn’t! Don’t say that!’ It was LK's turn to bristle. 'I didn’t tell you this so you can pin all the blame on her for our failed marriage. We got together too soon and married too early, we were both too young and I was too naïve. It takes two hands to clap.’



‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’ I apologized, all contrite. Things just happen sometimes. Perhaps it was the best course of action for all. Everyone moves on. At least she wasn’t cheating on him. He didn’t have to know anything but she told him anyway.



He smiled. ‘That’s why I tell you.’



‘What? Tell what?’



‘About this. At least you listened. I don’t want friends to drum up a personal vendetta against her just because I’m the one being dumped. It’s been better for me now. After a year, everyone starts forgetting the story and stopped looking at me with sadness. It’s easier to go through the motions everyday that passes.’


‘So I take it you did not tell PPQ?’ The journalist in me is remembering all the questions posted.


‘Right. About PPQ. To tell the truth, when I saw her at the seminar, I thought she just might be somebody who could be special to me. And knowing we are all connected made it just a tad easier to invite her out.’


‘So the flowers did mean something.’


‘Yes. It did. I lied to myself that I was accompanying a friend, in truth; I think I subconsciously agreed to go because I also needed some encouragement and some insights. Seeing her there was a step to venture into expanding my life again emotionally.’


I got it. ‘She was your first date since, that’s why you tried to celebrate.' With a pretty gal, flowers and a nice dinner.


‘Yes.’ his eyes mellowed again. ‘The flowers were for her, but I bought them because they were, to me, a symbol that I’m trying to move on. They meant more to me than she’ll ever know.’


‘So how are things between the 2 of you?’


‘She is a nice girl.’ He tried to speak carefully. ‘But we don’t have much in common. And frankly I don’t think I trust her enough. She strikes me as the jealous type. Oh, you better be careful.’


‘Me?’



‘You really should see her face when I off-handedly told her about the cookies.’


‘So it really was you!’


‘I’m sorry.’ He grinned. ‘Did I cause any trouble?’


‘Nah.' like cobwebs, i waved away all the trouble and stress PPQ ever caused me. 'I guess you know by now she has got the hots for you.’


‘Believe you me, I didn’t encourage her anymore beyond the flowers. I even paid her back for the porridge.’


Strike 3! ‘And how was the porridge?’ I asked.



‘Cold.’



‘No, serious.’


‘I was a bit freaked out, to tell the truth. It’s sweet but I don’t even remember telling her I was going back during the weekend.’


‘She must have hung on every word you were saying.’


‘As I said, a bit freaked out right now.’


‘You led her on, with the flowers and everything.’


‘I'm sorry. I led myself on too.’


I nodded. Somebody was trying to chase his own ghosts away. ‘Did it work?’


‘No.’ he sighed mistily. ‘I miss my wife still.’


He held his experiment and CD and grew silent. I waved my hands agitatedly.


‘Get a grip. If you blurb now, I’ll blurb too. Then my eyes will become smaller than they already are.’


He pinched his nose. ‘Right right. Guess I need to tell PPQ straight huh?’



I said. ‘Well, she isn’t the most subtle of people.’ And I really wanted to add ‘you’ll probably have to hammer it into her head with a mallet.’ But I didn’t.



‘Yah………. I’ll probably have to hammer it into her head……... u OK?’



‘Good luck.’ I coughed.


‘That bad huh?’ We walked out the doorway so I could send him on his way.



I thought about her and what she did throughout the whole series, then opened the security door for him.


‘Ok lah. She just needs to grow up a little.’


‘Don’t we all?’ His voice echoed down the corridor as he walked off.


Knowing exactly what he meant, I waved him Goodbye.


And so the camera pans out AKK as she diminishes in size and dims.


OUT!


AKK.