Trip over love, you can get up.

Fall in love and you fall forever.


No idea who said that, but it was obvious these two were on a date.

And I was quite sure they were on their first date.

They were seated on the table next to mine, so I could not help but... notice :-)

The boy was what I would call a wreck.

He was seated, yes, but in a very uncomfortable position. After helping the girl sit, he sat down, but did not pull up his chair to the table quite close enough. In fact, his chair was at an angle to the table... and instead of correcting the position of the chair, he sat crookedly for the rest of the meal, unable to rest properly on the back of the chair.

What was his opening line?

"So... err... why did you choose Madam Kwan's?"

Alaa...

Bro, if the girl chooses the place, just bring her there, don't ask why. Yet.

Anyway, the date thus began.

He had this permanent grin on his face. The whole meal, that smile of his never vanished, and everytime she looked at him, she would see his row of pearly white teeth.

It was there all the time, that even I got irritated.

It did mask one thing though - he was very nervous as I could gather from the constant shaking of his leg.

I really wanted to go up to him and just push his chair in a little - I was sure if he was seated comfortably, things would be much better. For the both of them... and for me. You see, good posture is important for many things - driving, at your desk, sleeping, when you're in a spaceship and when you're on dates.

They got to the end of their meal...

"Would you like a Mentos?"

Huh? I could swear I didn't see that on the menu.

I looked over stealthily, and I saw the girl offering the guy a mentos from the pill bottle-like container. Goodness, where in the world did she hide that?

Now, no matter how disastrous or uneventful a meal may have been, it is always useful to have a good closing. Lets see how our man performs.

He asks for the bill.

Good.

The girl offers to pay. He politely says that it's on him, and the girl happily relents.

Better.

The bill comes, and he cooly takes out his credit card and gives it to the waitress, acknowledging the waitress with a smile.

Steady.

It comes back, a cursory glance to ensure everything's in order, signs the chit, and the deed is done.

Pass.

And we're all happy.

*******

I have a feeling that, despite a few misses here and there, he will get another date on Valentine's Day if he asks her out.

But that grin...

If you have been there in recent years...

chances are that you will never forget the reality that is Saigon.


How true.

It was quite hot. I had started the day before sunrise, barely slept during the flight, and had battled through heavy traffic to get to the hotel. It was 5pm going on to 6pm, and having just checked-in, our meetings were to start at dinner. This was the blind-spot of times, where there was nothing much that could be done.

I thought I'd take a shower then. It was a very nice looking hotel room, and I knew I'd be very busy for the rest of my time in Vietnam, so I thought now was the time to have a leisurely shower or maybe even a bath.

I got ready for the shower, as one would. The towels in these hotels are usually big and fluffy and comfy, and I made my way to the bathroom to get them.

As I walked the short distance, there was a sweet knock on the door.

"Turn-down sir?!" The voice from the outside said.

"What?"

Then the door began to open. I realised I hadn't latched the chain!

Shucks. Does 'what' mean 'yes' in Vietnamese???

I turned around, dived across the bed, taking the comforter with me as I flew over, landing on the floor on the other side of the room, with a 'kedabup'.

Phew.

I peeked my head over the bed, and one of the room-service ladies was standing there, in my room, smiling.

"Turn-down sir?"

What the bloody hell is 'turn-down'?

"No, thank you."

And she left.

That was a close-call.

As I sat there contemplating how disastrous my opening evening in the glorious former Saigon could have been, and debating with myself the concept of privacy in communism, I got a phone call.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing really."

"Ok, lets do some quick shopping before dinner."

Looks like I was never meant to take this shower.

I got dressed and went down to the lobby, after making sure my door was locked.

*******

Turn-down, I figured out the next evening, is when the hotel prepares the bed for sleep, where they remove the comforter and fold over part of the duvet etc., and sometimes leave some chocolates on the pillow. Good stuff. Usually.

People who say they sleep like a baby...

usually don't have one.


The bane of parents around the world is finding reliable babysitters.

Whereas, the bane of babysitters around the world is finding reliable babies.

I honestly don't get all this fussing about baby-sitting.

How hard can it be?

Like, let the child within you go free, and there you have it - babysitting will flow from your fingertips.

And I'm not simply talking. I have baby-sat, a little.

I also have great ideas to keep children occupied, as can be seen from the picture below. I am constantly innovating in this area as well.





So, my friends, anyone looking for a reliable baby-sitter?

Pain is inevitable...

suffering is optional.

An ancient method of hair removal which originated in India.

Which to me should be confined to the dungeons of the Ripley's Believe It Or Not musuem.

The very image conjured up sent shivers down my spine.

Threading.

Where, nowadays, one pays someone to use a thread to pull out hair from the face... and until very recently I thought only girls used this sado-masochistic procedure.

I was at a wedding and was quite intrigued at the very fine line of beard that ran from the groom's sideburns to his chin. I've seen this type of beards of course, but only that particular day I began to wonder how it's done. I've tried using my Gillette Mach 3, but to no avail. Maybe I need to upgrade to the Mach 3 Turbo?

Trust the ladies to know how it's done.

"Threading laa..."

Oh...

Ouch.

Hmm.

This got me thinking.

I can actually do so many things then with this threading procedure, pain notwithstanding .

I should really try this out! Threading!

I picture myself coming home with a nifty thin line of facial hair running from side-to-side, a spiral here, a zig-zag there... :-)

I wonder what my dad would say. I imagine the conversation at home would go something like this:

Dad: So, what did you do today, son?

Me: I went to the threading saloon.

Dad: Ha? What for? Your company looking into the threading business? Hahaha!

Me: Hahaha, no. I actually went to thread my face. See my beard? It's now very narrow and fine and it's looks...

Dad: What? What??

Me: Well you see, I just discovered that threading is not only for girls and their eyebrows...

Dad: Never! Never has an Ismail man had anything other than sharp razor blades put to his face and neck! And you had thread??? Have you lost it??

Me: Wait, it was actually quite painful...

Dad: No! What has become of you?!? Can you imagine if people find out you did this?

Me: Well yes, that's why I was not planning to tell anyone coz they may not understand the intricacies of...

Dad: This is totally unacceptable! You must leave and not be seen around the house until hair starts growing from those threaded pores again!

Me: Sigh. Ok, see you tomorrow morning then.


It's tough being a man. I need to sleep on this threading idea.

I'll be ready...

never you fear.


"It's the block of offices after Baywatch..."

This was not sun-drenched Miami, or wherever it was that the Baywatch we all know was supposed to have been set, but rain-drenched Kelana Jaya.

"Did you just say Baywatch??"

Apparently, this Baywatch is a food court. I was going to meet a friend at his office one evening after work and that was the landmark.

*******

I was walking back to my car that was parked along the road outside the block. As I was walking, I saw that a minor accident had happened. I figured out from the scene that the BMW was waiting to make a u-turn, and the souped up 20-year old Mitsubishi clipped the BMW when the driver tried to overtake the BMW at the u-turn.

Very stupid.

The passengers from both cars were already outside and there was a shouting match going on, but it was mostly in Mandarin. The BMW driver was a 30-something guy, and he seemed to have a 58-year old uncle as his passenger. The Mitsubishi had four boys, all in their late-teens. I walked past the commotion towards my car.

I got into my car (Proton Satria 1.3GLS, manual tranmission, manual windows as well). Swung it around, and would have to pass the accident scene before I reached the junction to the main road.

As I drove past the scene, I was bloody shocked to see what was going on...

Uncle was holding one of the young boys, the driver presumably, by his throat! The boy's feet were nearly off the ground... and his friends seemed rooted by fear where they were. The BMW driver was screaming at uncle to stop (or egging him on, not sure)... but uncle was beating up the boy.

This called for some intervention! I ground my car to a halt, just outside Baywatch, and jumped out. The screaming that was going-on attracted some of the Baywatch life-guards... eh I mean waiters, to come out and see what was going on.

"Come-on!!!" I screamed at them before running to intervene.

As we got closer and closer, I was thinking what we should do... we can't simply barge in and starting beating up uncle, can we?

The best is just get in between uncle and the poor boy who was still being held by his neck.

"Hoi!!!" I screamed while still running, to get uncle's attention. "Stop! Hoi! Stop!"

Ok better tell the others that there's no turning back and we should just jump in ....

Turned to face the Baywatch dudes just behind me...

... and I saw nothing...

... not a single person ...

... oh wait, I can make them out, there they are... still just outside Baywatch eagerly waiting to see what I would do.

Turned to the front again, and there was uncle, having let go of the boy, looking at me.

He moved forward. I began to retreat.

Then uncle gave a couple of flying kicks to the Mitsubishi (could have been my face).

Then he cursed at the boys, before getting into the BMW. The driver got in as well, and they drove off.

The four boys looked very relieved that uncle had gone away... last I remember they were looking for a lost slipper.

I went back to my car, ignoring the Baywatch onlookers. As I drove back, I was thinking.

It's not easy being a David Hasselhoff.

Take me home...

country roads.


It's a minor miracle I am here writing this.

It was dark, and it was pouring. And it was an unfamiliar town. It was past mid-night. The roads were long and straight, and it would take you quite a while to realise that you may actually be going in the wrong direction. It kinda reminded me of the Australian outback... one wrong turn and you may not find civilisation for days.

"Go straight down, turn right... follow sign boards... you'll be ok" - that was basically the gist of the instructions that my three lady friends gave me.

I got into my car, and it was still pouring.

Right, straight down and to the right I turned.

What a weird town. I was now going down a three-lane road, there was a divider to my left, and there were another three lanes going the same way.

Hmm... maybe we'll merge after the traffic lights...

But then, why are the traffic lights facing the other way?

Err... why are the arrows painted on the road pointing this way??

Oh my god.

Why are there headlights heading straight for me???

2009 is only a day old!!!

And then, ala the Fast & Furious and Impak Maksima, I did a 180-degree swing on the wet and slippery road.

Phew.

Now that I'm facing the right way, I guess I need to look for a u-turn somewhere down the road then.

Talk about leaving out some minor details! Ladies!

A rose by any other name...

will still smell as sweet.

Wah... suddenly there were about 15 of them. All had crew cuts, and looked very much alike. Very cute, going into the ballroom in a single file. They looked between 7 to 10 years old. Quite certainly these boys were the 'feted guests of honour' of the host.

I sat by the table outside the ballroom, working on my laptop.

One the boys then wandered out of the ballroom. He walked around a bit... and he started staring at me.

I looked at him from the corner of my eye.

Still staring.

Then he ran around a little, and stopped beside me and started staring at my laptop.

Excuse me, this is very p&c stuff bro...

"Laptop ni..." He began to ask.

"Laptop ni kompeni abang punya. Nanti bila adik besar, dah kerja macam abang, mungkin dapat laptop jugak..."

"Ohh..."

Haha... that felt good.

I felt I did the socially responsible thing. Give the little man a boost, so that when he goes back, he can share with his young friends my... err... advice. Motivation and the ripple effect :-)


"Ok, thanks Uncle!"


Huh?!

I turned to look at him straight in the eye - I wanted to pierce into that retina that hasn't really seen what the world has to offer and give him a vicious jolt to the system and... but he had ran back into the ballroom.

Uncle???

Look, if you don't belong to one of my siblings...

Oh well...

Back to my p&c stuff.