The Wedding, The Driver
The Wedding, The Driver
Wednesday, 27 December 2006. 1159 hours
***The Wedding
Went up to Ipoh for an ex-classmate/housemate's wedding, and it was quite an experience.
Well, he is Punjabi, and half the dinner was in a language I couldn't understand. The better half, apparently, cos the friend sitting at my table was translating it for Tracy and I and it was all about sex. Then again, said friend also has a tendency for cheekiness and practical jokes, so I can't be quite sure. But everyone Punjabi/ Hindi was laughing, or wearing a satisfied smirk, so it had to be good.
It was, otherwise, like a sit-down Chinese dinner, except that there weren't many Chinks around, there was free flow of alcohol (no Chinese dinner would have that. Chinks can't drink much for shit), the food wasn't Chinese, and there wasn't a Karaoke session (thank God! Though I think Punjabis could probably sing better than old Chinese uncles/ aunties). And there was Bhangara dancing from 10pm-12pm opened by the newly-weds. Which was sweet :)
Of course, being party animals and bloody drunkards, the younger crowd also had to have an after-party involving more whiskey and dancing :P And yours truly, knowing these people and having gone out with them often enough, was invited along. ;) But since yours truly and her girlfriends make them look cool to have hot chicks around, so why not, eh? 11 guys without any girls would look quite sad, no matter how well-suited up, tall, dark and handsome they were. 4 girls. (approx.) 11 very tall, very big boys. No wonder we never get picked up. HAHA. So we adjourned to the nearest club/ pub/ bar playing R'n'B/ hiphop and partied till about 4am.
Then we got hungry and went off to the nearest mamak for food. Which shredded my already near non-existent rep even more, cos now they not only know me as a drunkard, but a glutton as well. The pilot calls me the Half-Bhai, and concocted some cock-n-bull tale about how my Chinese ancestry must have had a scandal with India. How else does one explain the hair, the eyes and the ass? Yah, 'nuff said. Now I'm a glutton because after 1 roti pisang and half a plate of maggi goreng, I was still hungry :P Oopsss.... That's the Burger King incident all over again. I'd bet Tracy and Bren could remember.
It was good, though, to meet up with friends I have not seen for awhile, and catch up. Tiring, but good. Goes to show I'm not as young as I was anymore :) Spent Christmas in a car, nursing a migraine, keeping Ayako company and sending her off, and then sleeping as much as I could. Still woke up with a migraine, though. Hotdamn... I know it wasn't a hangover, though, cos I wasn't drunk.
***The Driver
Coming back from Ipoh, after sending Ayako off and on the way past Bangsar, I saw, fleetingly, in a car, someone I had been avoiding for more than a year. It was quite a shock to see him, and I turned away immediately the moment I realised who he was. I hope he didn't notice me.
It's strange how life throws you curve balls at times. And it's obvious how you can never really forget. Would it ever be possible for me, to no longer feel that jolt of fear each time I see his face? In reality or in my nightmares? When would I be able to get past it? Would I ever be able to?
Questions, questions, to which no one quite knows the answers.
Wednesday, 27 December 2006. 1159 hours
***The Wedding
Went up to Ipoh for an ex-classmate/housemate's wedding, and it was quite an experience.
Well, he is Punjabi, and half the dinner was in a language I couldn't understand. The better half, apparently, cos the friend sitting at my table was translating it for Tracy and I and it was all about sex. Then again, said friend also has a tendency for cheekiness and practical jokes, so I can't be quite sure. But everyone Punjabi/ Hindi was laughing, or wearing a satisfied smirk, so it had to be good.
It was, otherwise, like a sit-down Chinese dinner, except that there weren't many Chinks around, there was free flow of alcohol (no Chinese dinner would have that. Chinks can't drink much for shit), the food wasn't Chinese, and there wasn't a Karaoke session (thank God! Though I think Punjabis could probably sing better than old Chinese uncles/ aunties). And there was Bhangara dancing from 10pm-12pm opened by the newly-weds. Which was sweet :)
Of course, being party animals and bloody drunkards, the younger crowd also had to have an after-party involving more whiskey and dancing :P And yours truly, knowing these people and having gone out with them often enough, was invited along. ;) But since yours truly and her girlfriends make them look cool to have hot chicks around, so why not, eh? 11 guys without any girls would look quite sad, no matter how well-suited up, tall, dark and handsome they were. 4 girls. (approx.) 11 very tall, very big boys. No wonder we never get picked up. HAHA. So we adjourned to the nearest club/ pub/ bar playing R'n'B/ hiphop and partied till about 4am.
Then we got hungry and went off to the nearest mamak for food. Which shredded my already near non-existent rep even more, cos now they not only know me as a drunkard, but a glutton as well. The pilot calls me the Half-Bhai, and concocted some cock-n-bull tale about how my Chinese ancestry must have had a scandal with India. How else does one explain the hair, the eyes and the ass? Yah, 'nuff said. Now I'm a glutton because after 1 roti pisang and half a plate of maggi goreng, I was still hungry :P Oopsss.... That's the Burger King incident all over again. I'd bet Tracy and Bren could remember.
It was good, though, to meet up with friends I have not seen for awhile, and catch up. Tiring, but good. Goes to show I'm not as young as I was anymore :) Spent Christmas in a car, nursing a migraine, keeping Ayako company and sending her off, and then sleeping as much as I could. Still woke up with a migraine, though. Hotdamn... I know it wasn't a hangover, though, cos I wasn't drunk.
***The Driver
Coming back from Ipoh, after sending Ayako off and on the way past Bangsar, I saw, fleetingly, in a car, someone I had been avoiding for more than a year. It was quite a shock to see him, and I turned away immediately the moment I realised who he was. I hope he didn't notice me.
It's strange how life throws you curve balls at times. And it's obvious how you can never really forget. Would it ever be possible for me, to no longer feel that jolt of fear each time I see his face? In reality or in my nightmares? When would I be able to get past it? Would I ever be able to?
Questions, questions, to which no one quite knows the answers.
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