Archive for April, 2008

Overheard #551

April 20, 2008


Next table, staff canteen of a local hospital. Not the most romantic lunch date venue.


Mid 20’s, shirt and tie yuppie-wannabe sort.

Young Lady:

Late teens/early 20’s, intern/rookie sort.


Man and Young Lady are seated diagonally across from each other at a 4-seater table. They are done with the meals, as evidenced by their empty but uncleared dishes. A throng of lunch-crowders are waiting for them to vacate their table but Man appears oblivious though he sits facing them.

It is not apparent if Man and Young Lady were acquainted before the meal or if they just happened to share a table. They are deep in conversation.

Or rather, he is deep in conversation.


Man is going on and on about football – the difficulties of certain crosses, set pieces, tactics and positions and all that stuff. Young Lady is nodding politely, adding a “hmm…” or a “yeah…” along the way so that it isn’t too obvious that she already knows all that or is bored out of her mind. It does not seem too far of a stretch to imagine that she is cooking up a way to end the conversation.

I gather that Man had learned that Young Lady is interested in football and thought that her, being a young lady, probably did not know more than the very basics of football and thus it was his manly duty to educate her.

At one point of the conversation:

Man: My favourite team is Liverpool. My favourite striker is Steven Gerrard. My favourite defender is …

I did not get to hear who his favourite defender was because I was laughing my guts out. Of course, I couldn’t laugh out loud. This was a no-frills canteen with tables placed two inches apart. I would have been laughing pretty much into his face. And that would be rude.

I did not have to hear the rest of the conversation. Those two lines right there captured the essence of it. It was not the content of those lines, but the spirit in which they were delivered.

If the conversation is summarized in print…

Man, 25, seeking Young Lady for friendship/relationship.

I am a good-looking and adventurous high-flyer. I love football and I love talking about football. My favourite way to spend the weekend is to snuggle up on the couch with a hottie and watch EPL matches. My favourite team is Liverpool. My favourite striker is Steven Gerrard. My favourite football snack is Twisties. If you are a gorgeous young lady who wants to have a good time and learn all about football, call me at 9-LIVE-FAN. Remember, with me, YOU’LL NEVER WALK ALONE.

*guts fall out*

Disclaimer: I mean no disrespect to Liverpool F.C., its staff, management and players, Mr. Steven Gerrard or any other Kopite.


Mid-20’s Crisis

April 15, 2008

You know, it’s that thing that causes you to nurse a cup of tea or bar of chocolate or bowl of ice-cream and wonder, “What the hey am I doing with my life?”

Then you turn on the telly and some 15 year-old is winning an Olympics gold medal and someother 12 year-old made it to Juilliard and you wonder, “What the hey have I done with my life?”

Then you think, “Maybe I need a new job”. Then you pick up the classifieds and it’s all dullness and receptionist and peanuts.

Then you think, “Maybe I should get married”. Then you look over to your partner and he’s got his nose glued to the monitor, well into his 8th consecutive hour of some online RPG. And he burps. And you think, “Maybe not”.

Then you think, “Maybe I should go further my studies”. Then you do a quick search for some college in some nice place, make a note of their tuition fees, compare it with your bank balance, and conclude, “Maybe not again”.

Then you tear your hair out, go brew yourself another cup of tea, get more ice-cream, put on some make-up to try and feel better, start a sombre life-changing talk with your partner which descends into a “But how would I know what you want” or “But what’s wrong with your life now?” clueless argument and he concludes, “Darling, I think you’re going to have your period” and you scream “You insensitive booger-for-brains no-good pasty-white *beep*”.

Then you eat more ice-cream, topped with more chocolate and have another cup of tea.

Then you dump booger-brain, enroll for that college you can’t afford, pack your bags and get on that flight.

And your period is nowhere near.

That’s how you know you got the mid-20’s crisis.

Have I Ever Mentioned What My Ultimate Ambition Is?

April 14, 2008

I think I have, but let me say it again.

My ambition is to live in a beach hut and sell cold drinks to the occasional ang moh tourist.

If I’m feeling uber-ambitious on any particular day, I might whip out some good food and try to hawk it to some ravenous fresh-from-the-sea teenager.

If I’m feeling uber-uber-ambitious, I might produce some craft work and sell them to middle-aged first-time-in-Asia “everything-is-so-exotic” lady tourists.

Somewhere, somewhere. A beach hut awaits me.