In a Week of my Life

Snow Storm on a Halloween Day

A week came and gone. Two things came into my possession in the past week.

First, I got this talk-of-the town iphone 4S on Saturday. I wasn't craving for it. In fact, I hate it. You see, StarHub, my service provider, deactivated my old SIM card and I could not activate this new "micro-SIM card of iphone 4S for my immediate use. So, I was essentially left without a cell phone for the following 3 days. As you know, nowadays, you can't leave home without a cell phone. I got it cheap though. I paid a cash of S$350, after redeeming my gift voucher and contract renewal. Meanwhile, I'll have to use a pre-paid card with a new cell phone number till my old number is activated. (An update: On Monday, I sold my 4S 64GB at a retail shop for $1,300 - a quick profit of $950. Good money for a poor man like me)

Second, I got is this new battery operated torchlight cum pen. It beams a fantastically bright wide angle laser light. It shapes like a pen but has a long and slim flexible tip that beams the light. You can use it to write in the dark with light shown on your writing pad. It's made in China and cost $5.

Last weekend was the start of Halloween, a western festival with activities such as trick or treating, attending costume parties, visiting haunted attraction, playing pranks or watching horror films. Both young and old enjoyed dressing in Halloween costumes which are traditionally modeled after monsters, ghost, skeletons, witches and devils. It's getting popular in Singapore, especially among the young English educated people. Unfortunately, with the last minute cancellation of the Halloween celebration at Night Safari in Mandai Zoo, the place resembled a movie backdrop for a sci-fi movie where everyone on earth dies. Last night I was at Night Safari for about 45 minutes and in that time I saw one lone person moving.

Clark Quay was a different story though. Even on a normal weekend, this place is a beehive of activities. I can't understand why people likes to get into a bedlam of such maddening crowd. I had to drop my customer about half a kilometer away from that jam-packed place as I simply couldn't move my cab at all. I was stuck for nearly an hour. What can I say about that night? Well, it was one of those nights where you would rather play a game of 13 cards poker with your buddies than wasting your time and money in a horrific traffic jam. Oh well its over now and all I have left is to remember never to pick a customer who wants to go that hell-hole place on a Halloween night. It's is crowded with thousands of devils and ghosts.

On Wednesday night, I had this young chap wanting to drop off at Hotel 81 at Rochor Road. At first I thought she was a boy as she wore a cap over her balding head, carried a sling bag, wore dark bermuda pants and T-shirt. Only upon chatting with her that I discovered her gender. She had an interesting background. She is a Singaporean, aged 19, and is staying at Hotel 81, waiting out the Thailand flood as she intend to visit her grandmother who stayed there. Her father is an Australian and mother, Thai. Her parents are Singapore PR and she was born here but was brought up in Australia till 4 and returned to stay in Singapore till now. Her parents had recently sold their residence here and she is sick. She spoke and look like a local Malay. Her life is like a movie script that develops at the whims and fancy of the script writer.

Yesterday, I changed the template of this blog. I hope you like it. If you have any suggestions or comments, I love to hear it. Thank you for reading my postings. I appreciate your patience and support. Please do come back again. Normally, I've new entry every week. May God Bless You!

Deepavali's Eve

               Decorative Lightings at Little India in celebration of Deepavali

Yesterday was eve of Deepavali, also known as festival of lights. The Indian Hindu celebrates the triumph of light over darkness and good over evil.

For cabbies in Singapore, the first thought that came to mind was to avoid all the streets around "Little India" at all cost. That place, which is an area less than ten soccer field, would be like a beehive when a half-million foreign workers from the subcontinent turn up in festive mood to hang out on their day off. Although there were traffic warrants directing traffic flow, it was almost impossible to drive through the human congested streets. Moreover, these workers have scant regards for local traffic rules. They would crisscross the streets at their fancy and oblivious to all vehicles around as though these vehicles were transparent to them. Even on normal days, I tried to avoid "Little India". An MP once remarked that a driver had to switch on his/her headlight while driving through Little India although all street lights are not faulty. The place would be pitch dark with the large numbers of Indian around. He was reprimanded for his racist slur and left PAP.

Did I pick up passengers at Little India yesterday evening?. Yes, I did but it was after midnight when most of the crowd had dispersed. First, I got in Race Course Road and there were still quite a lot of Indian loitering along the street. Some were lying or sitting in the open field, while others were dancing and singing with cans of drinks in their hand. At a road side, two guys hailed me and when I stopped, a third guy got up from his slumber on the road, unsteadily and his friends wanted to help him into my cab. Before they could open my door, I speed off like a jet. I dread drunken. Down the street, many in shabby and suspicious disposition continued to hail me but I didn't stop for them because I fear troublesome customers. Finally, I pickup four smartly dress Indian male characters to Marina Bay Casino.    

An hour later, at around 3am, I went back to Little India. By then the streets were almost deserted. I saw a  couple of drunken sleeping along the road side and open field. Surprisingly, the streets were clean with few litters but the open field were filled with garbage. Stall owners at the month-long Deepavali Bazaar were busy packing their wares. They had a few set-backs this festive season. First, their wares were damaged when the tent collapsed in a storm at the end of last month. Then they lost more goods when the area was flooded last Friday. Most stalls made about 30 percent lost.

Like the stall owners, my taking was bad for this festive night but I took it in my stride, hoping that with God's grace it will be still be a happy Deepavali for all my Hindu buddies.

Unofficial Tour Guide

The Lion City of Singapore

For today's posting, I'm going to write about a tourist couple who took my cab during the past week. Tourists are usually the conversationalist type. I normally break the ice by throwing a few comments about anything that comes to my mind. It could be the weather, people walking along the street, the advertising signboards or anything and then the conversation would take off like a breeze. I'm a chatty fellow but would reverse my attitude once I feel the slightest hint that my passengers are the quiet type.

Now, lets get to my plain story of that tourist couple who took my cab last week..

I had this young couple from London boarding my cab at the Changi Airport just after midnight. They had a long 15 hours flight from London, but were surprisingly fresh and chatty. This late twenty something couple were on their honeymoon to the Far East and Singapore was their stop over before their next stop at Bali and Sydney. As it was their first visit to Singapore, they wanted to make the best of those precious 6 hours stop over time to explore a bit of Singapore. With tongue in cheek, I proposed to make their impromptu visit here unforgettable. My charge was $100 for next 5 hours of night excursion with a return to the airport. They accepted my proposal after some discussion. I won't bore you with details of our chit-chat but instead, I'll tell you where I brought them in the wee hours of the night:
                
                                    Geylang Legal Red Light Area

The vibrant streets of Geylang, a popular red light district in Singapore for both local and foreigner workers. Seated in the comfort of my cab, we cruised through the various "lorongs" (side lanes) in Geylang for the young couple to have a look at the "dark" side of Singapore that most package tourists would not get to see. They were amazed that in our "clean" city of Singapore, we had allowed these dark lanes to become an open place for Asian prostitutes to ply their trade openly. Most of these night workers came into Singapore under the government open door policy of attracting foreign talents to boost our economy. Though there are frequent anti-vice raids, the "problem" is never eradicated. We had chicken rice and satay (barbecued pork) at one of the coffee shop along the dark lane and witnessed how the ladies ply their trade.
                                  
                                          Clark Quay with river view

An hour later, I brought them to Clark Quey, another popular night spot for late night revelers. This place boast a colorful kaleidoscope of restaurants, wine bars, nightclubs, retail shops and you name it, they have it. It's the opposite of "Geylang" district, with clean fun and mostly decent patrons Though it was close to 2am, the place was still bursting with activities of all sorts like people dinning and drinking at wine bars, water taxi plying along the river, loud music from nightclubs and shoppers at roadside stalls.We spent an hour strolling through the canopy of shops, bars, and live bands playing at some spots They had a few glass of wines and also bought some souvenirs like black pearls, silk slippers and a collection of Singapore stamps. For me, I would never had a chance to visit this place if not for the couple's impromptu excursion.
                                             
                                                        ChinaTown in the Day

As Chinatown was nearby, we drove there to see the old architectural shop houses that were conserved as national heritage and for posterity. Most shops were closed but the lighted facade of the buildings with intricate designs and signboard in Chinese characters were interesting enough for the couple. In Chinese, Singapore's Chinatown is known as Niu che shui ( literally "bull-cart water") as a result of the fact that, because of its location, Chinatown's water supply was principally transported by animal-driven carts in the 19th century. The name is also echoed in the Malay name, Kreta Ayer, with the same meaning.

Finally, my watch showed 5am and we hurriedly drove to the airport to catch their connecting flight. They paid me $150, the extra as tips. It was good money for a few hours of work and at the same time, I had the rare opportunity of visiting Clark Quay and gained some experience as an unofficial tour guide.

Two Female Villains

Every now and then, I've passengers leaving things behind in my cab, things like cell phone, sandals, wallets, laptops, bottles, cans etc....The more expensive stuffs are usually returned to the passengers, while the cheap items are dumped into the nearest dustbins. Talking about bottles and cans in my taxi, I had a very satisfying experience only last night.

At about 11pm, a call booking came in to pick someone at house in Napier Road, an exclusive residential estate. As I approached the house, I saw 2 very young ladies waiting at the gate, drinking & smoking. As they ambled near to my taxi, I could see that they were unmistakably white teenagers with baby faces. They threw their cigarettes away, but tried to get in with their drink in bottles.

"Sorry girls no drink in my taxi" I said.

“Shit..., we won’t spill it, driver" said a girl in British accent.

I repeated myself "NO DRINK IN MY TAXI!"

“f@#%” one of them said as they went to put the drink back in the house.
Ten seconds later they were in the back of my taxi, bottle free, or at least I thought so.

During the journey to the nightspot- "St. James at Sentosa", one of the girls kept repeating to herself “star sign Leo, ../../91 star sign Leo”. I could guess that she was underage and was practicing her birthday. Through my rear view mirror, I saw both applying heavy makeup on their face. Within seconds, they transformed themselves into present day Britney Spears and Emma Watson. Now, they were beautiful ladies, not boisterous kids. Nobody could recoznise them as teenagers anymore.

When we arrived at St. James, the fare was $9.50. They gave me a $100 note. I had to empty all my collection of the evening to gave them the change. They demanded a receipt and I got them one. I've no problem with that but what they said as they left, got me really pissed off. "F...king bastard". came the words and it pierces through my heart. Obviously, the words were targeted at me. I've never been scolded with such vulgarities in my adult life. I searched my entire soul for what have I done to deserve such senseless verbal abuse. Maybe it was my refusal to let them drink in my taxi earlier. That thought made me turned around to check whether any bottles were left in my taxi. Yes, an Heineken bottle with spill was on the mat.

I winded down my window and shouted “Sorry girls you will have to take the bottle with you” I said, to which they replied “FUCK OFF” and gave me the middle finger. I had bitten the bullet long enough. I instantly parked and locked my taxi. The girls were a few meters away, standing and smoking. I didn't go after them. In fact, I avoided them as I've no intention of an ugly confrontation with 2 young girls. But I hurriedly went up to the doors of St. James with the said bottles in my hand and waited for them to get to the front of the queue.

As they approached the doormen they could see me with the bottles waiting for them. Closer & closer they came, then BAM I stepped in. “Ladies you left this bottle in my taxi”,
The doormen looked at me and the girls and they said they had never seen me before and the bottles were not theirs. “Ok that's fine” I said, and pointed out to the doorman that one of the girls was underage and had been practicing her date of birth all the way in.
So behold!!,  the doorman asked them one by one their date of birth and said "SORRY LADIES NOT TONIGHT". Then I said to the girls “do you remember me now?” To which a torrid of abuse was thrown at me, but I was happy and satisfied that I got even with them. As for the girls, they got into another taxi and went home.
                                                         Emma Watson

World is a Stage.

       THE CHANDOS PORTRAIT - PICTURE OF WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

Today is Sunday and it's my rest day. All my grown up children had left the house to enjoy their weekend and I'm left alone to pursue my interest without disturbance. Today I'm going to write something that I've never written before and it's something that I wanted to write for a long, long  time. That something is a true life story of an old friend whom I knew since my secondary school days....45 years to be precise. Lets call my friend, Sim.

Today, Sim is listed by Forbes as one among the 15 richest man in Singapore!. I could write a novel based on his life but for this posting, I shall write briefly on his humble past, how he build up his business, got his company listed and his present life. I didn't get his permission to pen this posting but I guess he won't read this because he is computer illiterate. I hope that you, especially my young readers, will get an inspirational uplift to go after your dream after reading this true life story of someone so real in Singapore. By the way, this entry might not be interesting to those who are fascinated by the mystique of a cabby daily adventure.

Now, lets get to the story.

Sim's beginning was humble, nothing extraordinary. He grew up in a rubber estate with only an elderly father. His mother passed away when he was a kid. They were poor.  In 1966, Sim left school after his Senior Cambridge to work as a clerk in a police station. With a pay of $180 per month, it was not enough for his indulgence in smoking, mahjong and drinking. He was good in maths and quickly realized that many business were making easy money. Getting into business was the way to get rich, he reckoned at an early age. He then joined a marine company as an accounts clerk after attending night classes in bookkeeping. He mastered simple accounting principles. It was in this job as a junior account clerk in a marine company that open his path to become a billionaire one day.

By the will of God, he landed a job as the only person in the company to manage the barge construction business. There were no other employee. The four bosses were sleeping partners and barge construction was their side line business. Sim was hired simply because there were no other applicants competing  for the job and also on account of his working experience in a marine environment, though he was only an accounts clerk. However, the bosses must have found something unique about that young man. In essence, Sim was employed to run a company like his own. In 1977, OPEC, an oil cartel doubled the oil price and the search for more oil went mad. Sim made millions for the company as demand for barges and other marine vessels also went mad.

Unsurprisingly, Sim left his job after 3 years and started his own company doing the same business. He had 2 partners, one a boss of a marine company and the other, a property agent. In a short time, at age 30, Sim was a multimillionaire. He achieved it through a combination of recognizable attributes like hard work, sound business principles and luck. He works his ass out, delivers what he promised and undertook risks. More importantly, he was a lucky man. He entered the right business at the right time.

Within a few years, he left his old partners and ventured out on his own with a new partner. It proved to be his best move as the company prospered from day one and eventually got listed in the main board of Singapore Stock Exchange. Within a decade, the share price of his listed company rocketed up 10 times through various issues. At 50, Sim became a billionaire. At 55, he decided to leave his business and sold his entire share to a foreign company. He's now "semi-retired" but still pursued other business interests.

So, what's the moral of this true life story?.

I'm not a motivational writer or speaker by profession, just a taxi driver. From my perspective of someone who knew intimatelySim for many years, I can safely say that life is like a stage. All of us are players. Each one of us is destined to play certain roles in life. We play our parts in the best way we can and exit when the show ends. Sim was assigned the role of a successful businessman and he played it well. He amassed a lot of money and the world is his oyster. For me, I played totally different roles compared to Sim and is happy with what I'm.

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.

Inspirational Folks

Mr. Mahatma Gandhi

                                  Saturday, my weekend has arrived

and I have survived.

   Ferried them all to where they were going
   Some were dead drunk and arrived without knowing.

   Squeezed five in and drove them to Holiday Inn, 

   But they left without even a thankful hint,

   Still I wish them well and have a good night,
   Sat and watched as they walked out of my sight.

     Ferried them home, some with friends, some alone.

   My job is done, do you think my job is fun?.

Saturday is the one night I have been looking forward to all week! Why? Because the end of this night marks the beginning of my weekend!

I had a fairly diverse collection of passengers in my cab tonight, everything from a Polish pilot to MBA Indian housewife. Most of my passengers were ordinary folks, nothing much to write about. But in the diverse collection, there were one or two who had amazing stories to tell and an inspiring background.

The first was this young pilot from Poland, the land where 5 million Polish perished in the Holocaust during World World Two. The pilot boarded my taxi at airport arrival hall. I wanted to chase him out as it was illegal to pick passengers at arrival hall. But he pleaded with me saying he was in a hurry. I relented and took him. He was apologetic all the way to his apartment at Bedok. I hope in the next few days, no letters arrive from the airport police.

Like others, he was fascinated and marveled at the achievements of this tiny country that has no natural resources. And as usual, I lamented on the suffering of our poor people of Singapore, at which he told me this sad story of his ancestors:

During the Nazi German's 5 years occupation of Poland, genocide was conducted systematically against Polish people. Our pilot's grandparents were slaughtered like others. His then 10 years old father managed to survive by escaping into neighboring Austria. There he raised a family with untold hardship and determination. Our young pilot had an easier life but never forgot the past. However, he holds no vengeance against the German now and felt that war should never have taken place in the first place.

Poland and Singapore had something in common. Both were occupied by brutal army during World World Two. Fortunately, there was no genocide here but thousands were killed indiscriminately by Japanese forces. So, what is the inspiring part of this sad story? In my opinion, if our pilot's father can survive in a Holocaust, what else is insurmountable? If our grandparents or parents can survive the horrors of wars, what hardship we cannot endure in time of peace?.

The second passenger who inspired me was an Indian housewife in her late forties. I took her from Woodland Checkpoint to somewhere in Woodland, a short distance fare. During the short journey, she recounted how she managed her household monthly budget of $400 magnificently, sometime with a bit of saving . Her expenses were mainly on food for the family of four and her simple indulgence in wine. In her late forty, she graduated with an MBA in English and is now a part time lecturer in a school near the city. She spoke in excellent English and when invited to visit and comment my writing in this blog, she said "writing is from the heart,........." . I reckoned what she meant was that each of us as individual are different in many aspects and therefore, there is no need to compare or contrast. Dr.Catherine Lim, a well known writer in Singapore, said " "I feel, in a general way, that art, whether it be literature or painting or dancing or music, is something so individual, so personal, even idiosyncratic that it is the artist himself who is ultimately the truest judge and critic".

Writing is an art. Like all forms of art, appreciation is in the heart, mind and eyes of the beholder. Again, what's so inspiring about the Indian housewife?. Well, she's a housewife yet she managed to find the time and a dogged determination to achieve an MBA in her late years. That's inspiring!     

                                                     Inspirational Quotes

                  








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Your Cheating Heart

                               Miss Yamie Yeo of Media Corp.

I was busy like hell last Saturday night. And it was one of those nights when demand exceeded supply. 

Around 11pm. at Clark Quay, two females were desperately trying to gain possession of my cab. They arrived simultaneously from both sides. I chose the girl on the left as she had arrived a moment before the other. I made a right choice because she turned out to be a sweetie and left me with a story. She was a local Chinese girl in her early twenties and looked like Miss Jamie Yeo, an actress with Media Corp.

As soon as she got into my cab and after telling me to send her to The Sail, a luxurious apartment at Shenton Way, she got on her cell phone and began talking to someone. I didn't pay attention to her conversation as I was gingerly maneuvering through the heavy traffic. We arrived at her destination in less than 10 minutes and she asked me to wait.....

We waited and it went on like this for five minutes. A cab driver makes very little money waiting on a super busy night. So I began to show my displeasure - and then she did something I really didn't like. She suddenly opened the door, said she'd be right back, got out of the cab and went into the building, without paying or depositing anything! There was nothing I could do as she flew off like bird within a second.

Ten more minutes went by and as I was just about to drive away, foregoing the charge, she reappeared. Looking downcast and dejected, she asked me to drive her home to Sixth Avenue in Bukit Timah. I was shocked to see her face. Before she went into the building, she had beautiful eyes, perfect lips and a fair, smooth face. On her return, her eyes were red with tears, her lips had traces of blood and her left cheek was somewhat swollen. I guess someone had assaulted her.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"I'm fine. Uncle" she answered sobbingly. 

I began asking questions after she calmed down. Although she was clearly traumatized, she answered me in a measured tone. And this was the story...

"My passenger, whose name was Amy, had been talking to John, her Indonesian Chinese boyfriend, on the cell phone. She wanted him to join her at this bar, but he wanted to stay home. She then decided to persuade him in person, without him knowing.

In the hall, she saw him nude and in intimate relation with her classmate. Not surprisingly, hell broke lose. Her classmate assaulted her when she tried to forcefully separate them. Both Amy and John are twenty-one years old. They both went to NUS university, and they've been dating for about a year. The guy is a jerk and had cheated on her." 

I tried to console her like a father and advised her against making a police report because the police would classified it as a non-violent civil case and need a magistrate order to investigate. She had no witness and no weapon or serious injuries were inflicted. Though she had suffered some injury and injustice, it was a blessing in disguise as it was her boyfriend who had cheated her and not her "prospective-husband". I advised her that it was better not to wash dirty linens in public. I'm not sure whether she heed my advice.

I knew too many stories like her. I knew how boys cheat on girls and girls cheat on boys. How they got carried away by passionate emotions of love at tender age and live to regret thereafter. But many recovered from their traumatic heartbreak and became a wiser person in the management of boy/girl relationship. I hope Amy is one of them.
                                       Hank William's Your Cheating Heart.

Mr. Bean

                                           Mr. Bean - The Police Officer

As a taxi driver, we had plenty of pretty mundane occurrences, nothing to write about. But there have been a few that have stayed in my memory for being specially amusing. I would like to share with you one such trivially funny occurrences.

It happened last week on Monday night in Jurong Island. With a lady customer in my cab, I was waiting at a traffic light junction in the sprawling Jurong Island when a police car pulled up next to me on my left. I took a quick look at my passenger and asked her to strap on her safety belt immediately. There were two cops in the car and the officer sitting in the passenger's side of the cruiser ordered me to lower my window.

"Oh f%@#"," I thought, "what the heck do they want?"

The thought of a hole in my pocket raced through my mind. Do I have a headlight out? Did I drove above the speed limit? Did I make some kind of illegal turn earlier? Did I run a red light? I couldn't think of anything I'd done wrong, but who knows what they think? My God, this could cost me a few hundreds of dollars and put points on my license. And that could mean my license could be suspended as I already had 12 demerit point for speeding.

I lowered my window and braced myself with my heart pounding. The cop had a sour face. He looked like his girlfriend had ditched him or maybe he hadn't eaten in a long time, - and now he was going to take it all out on me. His mouth opened. These words came out:

"Do you know where Sumitomo Reclamation Site Office is?"

For the first time, I was asked for directions by a cop. It was a moral victory not only for myself, but for taxi drivers everywhere. I heaved a sight of relief and I looked at the cop with startled eyes. He looked at me with a grin. I saw him now not as a menace, but as a Mr. Bean. I couldn't resist rubbing it in a little.

"So you're asking me for directions," I said with a broad smile. "Well, It's complicated but if you follow me after I dropped my passenger, I can get you there but you got to pay me for the extra mileage "

"Ok, take us there."

I saw an opening to "fine" them and I took it. In a matter of minutes, I got them to where they wanted to go. They paid me $6 and I took it like any other fare. Though I lost the $6 on my weekend wager on their number plate but I won a moral victory against the cop.

Can I Kiss You?

                               Nong Poy (Thailand) Miss LadyBoy 2004.

Last night, around midnight, a white man in his fifties and an elegantly dressed lady in her late twenties boarded my taxi at the famous Orchard Tower. They wanted to drop at two places, first, a condo near Lavender MRT and second, Geyland Road.

I reckoned the lady must be a "lady boy" from her demeanour and the fact that we were at a popular transvestite "playground". And sure enough, my suspicion was confirmed when they began to talk. "Her" manly voice was hoarse like a voice from a damaged recording and my hair stood up like a porcupine on hearing it. They appeared steaming drunk as their conversation were incoherent There were more actions than voices at the back seats when I set off.

On arrival at the condo, the white man staggered away without a word to the "lady" or paying my fare. So, I politely checked with the "lady" and "she" assured me that "she" had cash to pay the fare with an "OK" sign of "her" delicate fingers..

After the man left, "she" astonishingly moved to sit beside me. As I placed no valuables in my front seat, I had nothing to worry about. Then, like a witch, "she" transformed herself from a "whore" into an intellectual. "She" started to talk intelligently and eloquently about a guy book "she" read recently but I gave her scant attention. She was amazingly beautiful like an angel, with big eyes and long silky hair. "Her" bosom was voluptuous but "her" voice was horribly distasteful and I felt like having a beautiful alien in my cab.

Soon we arrived at her destination. She handed over the fare of $12 and shockingly asked whether I would to join her for a beer in "her" room. Stunted as I was, I replied, "thanks, but no thanks, I've to get back to work". She then pulled out a separate $50 note and happily offered it to me as a tip.
I said "don't be stupid, you'll need that tomorrow".
Upon my refusal, "she" asked "Can I kiss you?"
I said "Ok, on my palm not my lips". She staggered out of my cab without a word and I jet off like a fighter pilot. I think she "loves" me because she was senselessly drunk, like the lyrics of this video.

                        Can I Kiss You Tonight = I Love You When I'm Drunk.

On a Wet Night

Last night, the thunder storm came again at 3am in the morning. It was a mega downpour like Biblical. A wall of water on my windscreen was too much for my wiper blades to cope with, that together with pools of water on the road made it difficult for me to drive. I wanted to call it a day but my taking was horrible on a usual quite Monday night. So, I decided to drive around the city hoping for a flag down. Bus stop after bus stop and buildings after buildings, not a single soul were around to stick their hand out. What do you expect at 3am on wet, wet Monday morning?. But sometimes, strange thing do happen and irrational human reaction is beyond comprehension. Let me explain.

Outside the General Hospital Emergency Building, a young lady was walking along the pavement with a huge umbrella. The road was flooded with puddle of water at it sides. With her umbrella, she must be thinking that there's no way the rain is getting her wet and I thought she could be my potential customer. Suddenly a van came from nowhere, overtook me and drove straight towards the young lady, hitting the "stream-like" puddle of water.  "Swwoooosh!!. Ten times worse than any water-ride at a theme park. A ton of water drenched her from head to foot. Instead of screaming furiously at the van driver, she was surprisingly laughing her head off! Is this is General Hospital or Woodbridge - a mental disorder hospital?, I asked myself. Quickly. I stopped beside her hoping she would get into my cab but she waved me off and continued laughing. She must be crazy. I thought. If I had caught it on video camera, the footage of her under the van-made "waterfall" would made it to YouTube with a million hits. And I'm sure the million would "voyeur" at her gorgeous body through her drenched translucent dress.  
                                             Wet, Wet, Wet

Wasted Night.

I got a shock of my life while driving in a thunder storm during the wee hour of last Thursday morning. No, I didn't get struck by lightening but my heart nearly stopped while I was driving along Bukit Batok Road.

The timing was perfect.

What happened was, as I was passing a traffic light junction, there was a flash of bright light. My whole cab was illuminated as I drove through the junction. Instinctively, I hit my brakes thinking a traffic light camera had caught me and there went my hard day of work and demerit points. My heart sunk but then another lightening came followed by a loud thunder a second later. I knew instantly the bright light was from heavens and not from traffic police. "Oh, thanks God", I said to myself and felt lucky.

Everything happened in a flash with no time for reflection. It was only a second thereafter, I thanked God for issuing me a warning not a fine. But no sooner had I finished offering my gratitude to Him, a huge tree branch came crushing onto my cab. It hit my bonnet and I came to a screeching stop. Luckily there were no other cars on the road at that time of the night and I was not hurt. The damage was serious with a deep dent and scratches. My hard day of work evaporated into the wet night, saved the demerit points. I looked at my watch. It was almost five o'clock. "What a waste," I sighed and drove home.
                                   
                                          "Wasted Days And Wasted Night"