'Actually my career took a bit an upturn today if you must know.'
'You got fired?'
'Promotion.' She started to laugh. 'I've been offered the job of manager.'
Dexter sat up quickly. 'In that place? You've got to turn it down.'
'Why? Nothing wrong with restaurant work.'
'Errm, you could be mining uranium with your teeth and that would be fine as long as you were happy.'
...
She looks at the cover of the Fitzgerald paperback. 'The Beautiful and Damned. It's me and you.'
'But which is which?' he says without thinking.
...
Address Book, Edit Contact, Delete Contact. 'Are you sure you want to delete Suki Mobile?' asks the phone. Fuck me, yes, yes, delete her, yes! He jabs at the buttons. Contact Deleted says the phone, but it's not enough. Contact Eradicated, Contact Vaporised, that's what he needs.
...
Monday, May 30, 2011
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Teem
I've come to know Teem through one of my ex-partners, Frank. We were introduced to one another when they were going out. Right until today, in my eyes, he is kind, gentle, polite, unintrusive, sometimes quiet, cheeky in his own way and doesn't have a mean streak in him. Definitely one of the nicer guys I've gotten to know in my life.
Before I go on, I would like to mention the strangeness of my getting along really well with some of my friends' friends. This "second degree" friendship continues to flourish even after I've lost contact or hung out less with those "first degree" friends who got us acquainted in the first place. It has recurred more than once, like some mystifying serendipitous cosmic event. I'm not one who go out of my way to meet new people and make friends, so I cherish this curious niche of "second degree" friends with all my heart. Considering how well we get along, not surprisingly, some of them, of either gender, have expressed interest in taking the friendship further. For some reason, I could never reciprocate. I remain content with having them as friends, and the chemistry concretely reaffirms it as fact.
Teem is one of these "second degree" friends. Our friendship is mutually platonic, and will forever stay that way. We occasionally meet up for meals, fill each other in about our lives' on-goings, and complain about things that annoy us. Complaining is one of the virtues in all good friendships. We come to common ground, listen without judgment or prejudice, and laugh together. We've grown closer over the years to the state whereby we are comfortable when we run out of things to say, and the silence between topics is not unwelcome and doesn't bother us at all.
Last night, we met up for dinner and I saw a side of Teem which I've never seen before. I have to admit that I was pleasantly surprised. It added a warmer depth to his already likable personality.
It all began when we were finishing up on our gelati at a cafe not far from where we had dinner in Chinatown. I was sipping my steaming peppermint tea while lamenting about my exasperation with being in and out of relationships, and meeting the wrong people all the time. I whined about how I don't intend to end up like one of those guys who are in their 50s and still single. Well, it's not my place to judge them, but I certainly dread going down that path. He openly showed his amusement at my whingeing.
And then, I commented on how lucky he was that he's got Andrew. He gave me his familiar smirk, and confessed that things are actually not going as well as I thought. Well, he had mentioned numerous times in the past that there had been some domestic incidents, but so what? That's perfectly normal. All relationships have problems.
He elaborated some more on the matter, and I admitted to him that I had no idea it was that bad. He added that they're working on it.
"We're trying our best," he said. It was a short affirmation, yet sincere and optimistic.
I gained a little more insight of Andrew's personality as he went on. I would have given up & moved on ages ago if I was going out with someone like that, I thought, and told him so. I followed it up by saying that I was impressed with his perseverance and determination to make it work. It then occurred to me that I didn't know much about his dating history, so I couldn't help myself and steered the conversation accordingly. There were only 2 guys before Andrew, he replied.
He recounted those 2 relationships indulgently, and was very forthcoming about his immaturity and utter lack of experience, as well as how much in love he was with Frank. I was completely caught off-guard by his honesty and tenderness. I could sense that he was grateful, and will always be, for what Frank had done for him, although we couldn't agree more on how extremely antagonistic, cynical and provoking Frank could be.
As he got to the subject of Andrew again, I noticed something else. No matter how disagreeable Andrew is and how tedious the relationship got, there was a detectable fondness for Andrew underlying his words, and the jokes he made about him had that same tint. As I listened, all I could do was look at him with renewed respect, offered nods of comprehension from time to time, laughed with him at his jokes, and smiled.
Eventually, we decided to call it a night and left the cafe. During our walk back to our cars, he continued making fun about Andrew's shortcomings with affection.
Just before saying goodbye, he said, "I should cook dinner soon and invite you over. It's my turn."
"Make larb! I miss your larb," I said gleefully.
"Even easier! Hahaha!" he responded.
"And it's not oily! Yaaah!" I said, recalling the earlier night's funny musing about eating lots of unhealthy food like a "greedy bitch", a term he coined.
"Have you tried my deep fried egg?" he joked. I grunted and leered at him playfully.
He loves dark chocolate and coconut juice. I'll have to remember to bring those along when the time comes.
Before I go on, I would like to mention the strangeness of my getting along really well with some of my friends' friends. This "second degree" friendship continues to flourish even after I've lost contact or hung out less with those "first degree" friends who got us acquainted in the first place. It has recurred more than once, like some mystifying serendipitous cosmic event. I'm not one who go out of my way to meet new people and make friends, so I cherish this curious niche of "second degree" friends with all my heart. Considering how well we get along, not surprisingly, some of them, of either gender, have expressed interest in taking the friendship further. For some reason, I could never reciprocate. I remain content with having them as friends, and the chemistry concretely reaffirms it as fact.
Teem is one of these "second degree" friends. Our friendship is mutually platonic, and will forever stay that way. We occasionally meet up for meals, fill each other in about our lives' on-goings, and complain about things that annoy us. Complaining is one of the virtues in all good friendships. We come to common ground, listen without judgment or prejudice, and laugh together. We've grown closer over the years to the state whereby we are comfortable when we run out of things to say, and the silence between topics is not unwelcome and doesn't bother us at all.
Last night, we met up for dinner and I saw a side of Teem which I've never seen before. I have to admit that I was pleasantly surprised. It added a warmer depth to his already likable personality.
It all began when we were finishing up on our gelati at a cafe not far from where we had dinner in Chinatown. I was sipping my steaming peppermint tea while lamenting about my exasperation with being in and out of relationships, and meeting the wrong people all the time. I whined about how I don't intend to end up like one of those guys who are in their 50s and still single. Well, it's not my place to judge them, but I certainly dread going down that path. He openly showed his amusement at my whingeing.
And then, I commented on how lucky he was that he's got Andrew. He gave me his familiar smirk, and confessed that things are actually not going as well as I thought. Well, he had mentioned numerous times in the past that there had been some domestic incidents, but so what? That's perfectly normal. All relationships have problems.
He elaborated some more on the matter, and I admitted to him that I had no idea it was that bad. He added that they're working on it.
"We're trying our best," he said. It was a short affirmation, yet sincere and optimistic.
I gained a little more insight of Andrew's personality as he went on. I would have given up & moved on ages ago if I was going out with someone like that, I thought, and told him so. I followed it up by saying that I was impressed with his perseverance and determination to make it work. It then occurred to me that I didn't know much about his dating history, so I couldn't help myself and steered the conversation accordingly. There were only 2 guys before Andrew, he replied.
He recounted those 2 relationships indulgently, and was very forthcoming about his immaturity and utter lack of experience, as well as how much in love he was with Frank. I was completely caught off-guard by his honesty and tenderness. I could sense that he was grateful, and will always be, for what Frank had done for him, although we couldn't agree more on how extremely antagonistic, cynical and provoking Frank could be.
As he got to the subject of Andrew again, I noticed something else. No matter how disagreeable Andrew is and how tedious the relationship got, there was a detectable fondness for Andrew underlying his words, and the jokes he made about him had that same tint. As I listened, all I could do was look at him with renewed respect, offered nods of comprehension from time to time, laughed with him at his jokes, and smiled.
Eventually, we decided to call it a night and left the cafe. During our walk back to our cars, he continued making fun about Andrew's shortcomings with affection.
Just before saying goodbye, he said, "I should cook dinner soon and invite you over. It's my turn."
"Make larb! I miss your larb," I said gleefully.
"Even easier! Hahaha!" he responded.
"And it's not oily! Yaaah!" I said, recalling the earlier night's funny musing about eating lots of unhealthy food like a "greedy bitch", a term he coined.
"Have you tried my deep fried egg?" he joked. I grunted and leered at him playfully.
He loves dark chocolate and coconut juice. I'll have to remember to bring those along when the time comes.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Greg
I find our chats to be amusing and I do let them humour me. It's like we're throwing a ball at one another with it landing nowhere near us. Fortunately, I don't take them seriously and it's a great way to kill time, for sure. At the end of the day, it doesn't get anywhere, and it feels like fluff. It's clear that you have no intention of forming a genuine connection.
At least, not with me.
At least, not with me.
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