I am having one of those days. You know, the ‘life is a series of disjointed and unrelated events’ days, where those said events are connected by fate only if you imagine them to be?
Well, yeah. So.
I went shopping yesterday for women’s things with a sweetie who’s about to land herself a job and so has the perfect reason (I didn’t say excuse) to buy herself a nice outfit, a bag, and a sensible pair of shoes.
Now, you know when you find a sweetie likeable enough that you don’t want to embarrass yourself too much revealing too much of yourself and your funky little habits and neuroses, you tend to be a little bit aloof and reserved. And likewise, I try to remain a little distant and aloof, and not reveal too much of myself and my ditziness.
However, when it comes to shopping, and I don’t mean buying stuff, I cannot help but gush about the nice shirt I saw, the sexy shoes on the shelf, and the tray of cufflinks at Raoul. Now, that sweetie was supposed to have bought stuff for herself, but we ended up buying a shirt for me and looking through the tray of cufflinks at Raoul.
Worse was to come. I couldn’t help but display my knack of scanning a rack of women’s clothes and picking out the exact, perfect combo for her to try. Guaranteed 100% success rate. I am not boasting or anything. In fact, I am embarrassed. Years of being dragged by my mother shopping has programmed me. When I was a child, I found that the best way to expedite the end of a shopping excursion with mother was to make sure I concentrated on picking out the right clothes for her. Faster buy. Faster go home.
Unfortunately for the Sweetie, the sizes were one too big for her, and there was nuffin the salespeople could do abourrit.
As if that weren’t enough to make people cast aspersions on my masculinity, I actually like talking about shopping for women’s clothes. And after shopping, I spoke non-stop to the Sweetie’s best friend about the lovely shirt I saw that unfortunately wouldn’t fit. At the best of times, her best friend would’ve had large enough eyes, but they bulged a little more in amazement when I answered her question of ‘shirt for who?’ with ‘for her lah!’.
Then after work today I had dinner with E and because I hadn’t been spending all that much time with her lately, we had a lot to catch up on. We spoke at length about her boyfriend and how silly he was leaving their holiday plans to the last minute so that they had trouble getting a flight back to Singapore, and how she had screwed up her schedule as a result. Then we spoke about my shopping problem. Then we spoke about my trip to HK and how I would react to seeing the ex get married. Then we spoke about her getting married eventually, when her boyfriend finally at the last minute decides to marry her, and how, as a result of my shopping problem, I’d be the perfect candidate to help her pick out a wedding dress.
As we were talking, one of the ex’s Singaporean friends (the ex is an alien) rocked up and said hi, saying she didn’t recognize me for I had lost so much weight since the last time she saw me, and that she only recognized my voice because my voice was so distinctive. So I spoke with her a little about staying at the ex’s apartment at Causeway Bay over the weekend before her wedding and how I’d react to seeing her get married.
The night before, the Sweetie, her best friend and me had rocked up to our usual tea and supper place at Spize, where the Sweetie bumped into her ex’s mates, who know who I am as well. Those mates tell me I’ve lost a lot of weight since the last time they saw me.