I Smell The Blood Of An English Man
Mr Dimples was my companion on last Sunday evening, the night before I checked out of Pan Pacific Hotel. I’m afraid I have only lovely things to say about my friend.
Some hours before we were due to meet, I asked him to buy a instant disposable camera on my behalf so that I could take pictures of the hotel and the skyline, expressway, city buildings, early stages of casino/resort that the balcony opens up to, at different times to capture hues and moods. If it wasn’t too much of a trouble, that is, but who won’t buy, right.
Thing is, Mr Dimples went a shade deeper. In the sense, he warned about the deplorable results from using what I had originally intended, and offered his *Canon Z 90W, complete with mini tripod (!) in place. How terribly nice. Even when the need is posed experimentally to Best Friend post-need for assessment and comparison, she also stopped short of volunteering her gadget and was incredulous: how, and what else can I do – yes, I will buy for you, of course, when prompted and prodded.
We chilled in the room for an hour plus and yes, conversing with him is always good, and fun. This enjoyable fluidity extended to Centrestage where we had dinner and kept going when we were back at the hotel lounge till we parted.
He just started serving his bond at DSTA. Apparently our lower sec classmate is there too. Talk naturally steered to a possible class gathering which I became quite happy just thinking about the potentiality of it. The best part of secondary school life was then when we were together in the same class, a haphazard collection of personalities that was supportive and crazy and sincere in the way only people who exude real fondness for one another (in a peculiarly childish and yet likeable manner) can. In fact, the very next day, I received word from Yaoqiang, the other classmate at DSTA, and that we are gonna try organizing something.
In all senses, Mr Dimples is wonderful foil to foil the inexplicable attraction and habit that is the oddity, Mr Veins. The foulness and fairness of such a foil.
I need to check out, but what, and of what.
Let me return to my hateful lover – Work, for now.
Some hours before we were due to meet, I asked him to buy a instant disposable camera on my behalf so that I could take pictures of the hotel and the skyline, expressway, city buildings, early stages of casino/resort that the balcony opens up to, at different times to capture hues and moods. If it wasn’t too much of a trouble, that is, but who won’t buy, right.
Thing is, Mr Dimples went a shade deeper. In the sense, he warned about the deplorable results from using what I had originally intended, and offered his *Canon Z 90W, complete with mini tripod (!) in place. How terribly nice. Even when the need is posed experimentally to Best Friend post-need for assessment and comparison, she also stopped short of volunteering her gadget and was incredulous: how, and what else can I do – yes, I will buy for you, of course, when prompted and prodded.
We chilled in the room for an hour plus and yes, conversing with him is always good, and fun. This enjoyable fluidity extended to Centrestage where we had dinner and kept going when we were back at the hotel lounge till we parted.
He just started serving his bond at DSTA. Apparently our lower sec classmate is there too. Talk naturally steered to a possible class gathering which I became quite happy just thinking about the potentiality of it. The best part of secondary school life was then when we were together in the same class, a haphazard collection of personalities that was supportive and crazy and sincere in the way only people who exude real fondness for one another (in a peculiarly childish and yet likeable manner) can. In fact, the very next day, I received word from Yaoqiang, the other classmate at DSTA, and that we are gonna try organizing something.
In all senses, Mr Dimples is wonderful foil to foil the inexplicable attraction and habit that is the oddity, Mr Veins. The foulness and fairness of such a foil.
I need to check out, but what, and of what.
Let me return to my hateful lover – Work, for now.
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