The battle of wits with Lao Kuniang
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Part of my struggle for survival during NS hinges on the whims of Lao Kuniang.
To give you some background, Lao Kuniang takes the same bus as me every morning. Not only that, she boards the bus at the same stop as I do. I was fairly annoyed at this fact.
However, that wasn't a valid reason to start a war with an auntie with a creaking spine. One fateful morning not so long ago, Wilson, my friend with the really big head, and I was chatting on the bus. We were just talking about trivial issues like my previous dinner when Lao Kuniang interrupted us by saying: "Can you keep quiet? I want to rest."
We were stunned. Everyone knows that Singaporeans always have a I-don't-give-a-damn attitude about others, but Lao Kuniang takes the cake. Not only did she take the cake, she even ate it. We could see it from her body size.
Anyhow, she was the epitome of the I-don't-give-a-damn attitude. She halted a highly-intellectual debate about the contents of my dinner just because she needed to rest her ailing brain. Nevertheless, big-headed Wilson and magnanimous me decided to give in and allow her some nap time. Besides, her eyebags suggested she really needed a nap.
But, like I always say, I pretend to forgive, and I never forget. This is war.
The idea of revenge first struck me on a rainy day. It was raining heavily, and it was as cold as my Mother's eyes whenever I ask her for money. Anyhow, Lao Kuniang sat in front of me on the bus. Realising the state of the weather, I managed to infer that Lao Kuniang would be feeling really cold. I remembered our little engagement earlier and decided to do something about it.
I discreetly turned all the air-con vents towards her, and turned them up to 'maximum'. Within seconds, she was sneezing. She looked around and discovered that all the air-con vents were pointing at her. She turned to me and said, "Can you turn the vents away? I am cold."
Does she own a template for her speech or what? "Can you......? I....." Duh. The war continued, though.
Just yesterday, she was late for the bus again. I boarded the bus before her and took the seat behind the driver. The driver, Mr James, looked around and asked me if Lao Kuniang was taking the bus that morning. I had no idea. However, I am an opportunist, and saw a great chance for another shot at her. I said, "Nah, she isn't taking the bus this morning."
Mr James moved off.
I closed my eyes and imagined her chasing the bus. It was in slow-mo, like all great imaginations. She laboured through her steps and it showed. Her fat body vibrated like a bowl of jelly on a sub-woofer.
It was not a pretty sight, but it was a heart-warming thought.
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