Been outrageously lazy these past few days, I swear if I could brush my teeth while still lying on the bed, I would. Not such a great milestone to cover after turning 22 eh? Yes, can’t still get over the fact that I’m already more than two decades old. Forgetting my own birthday was nothing new, so I’m thankful for having such great friends who constantly kept me in check (and up-to-date, literally speaking!), saya sangat sayang anda semua.
Apart from the normal daily pergi balik hospital, nothing new for me to report from this part of the earth. Except for, ahha. Riding in the mashrut (remember, the van-like public transport I told you about?) has been all sort of interesting lately.
I was riding back home from a cancelled lecture. The seats in the mashrut were fully occupied. Nothing too out of ordinary. I noticed a Chad Michael Murray look-alike sitting on the opposite aisle, but other than that, it was a normal trip home.
Two stops before mine, a young man with crutches limped up the bus. Instinctively, I vacanted my seat and motioned for the man to take it. Suddenly, said Chad also stood up, and spoke, “It’s ok, lady. Let him have mine.” I informed him that I was getting off anyway so I wouldn’t mind standing for the next two stops.
Maybe Chad felt his need to uphold his macho image, he insisted on standing. So we were a bunch of idiots, standing in the middle of the bus, with a perfectly inviting vacant seat. He smiled, I smiled. I’m pretty sure the other passangers were looking at us oddly. I was not about to wheedle him into sitting, so when my stop was approaching, I called out to the driver and got off the bus.
To my surprise, so did Chad. Oh well, maybe he lives nearby. That explained why he insisted on standing too. When I was about to go my own way, he called out. “Let me walk you home.” I was puzzled. I waved off his offer, telling him I live only nearby. He insisted, saying something “there’s no way I’m letting a pretty and sweet girl like you walk home alone.”
You’re snickering, right? Tell me you are. Cause for heaven’s sake, I was! Too bad for him I’m the Queen of Sweet-Talk Immunized. I didn’t buy it for even a second. I said no again, so noticing my apprehension, he asked “are you afraid of me?”
Duh. For all that I know, you might be some psychopath who hunts oblivious little girls like me and sell their livers to the black market. Excuse me for being paranoid, but I’m sure they taught you all that in Law & Order or Criminal Minds, won’t hurt to pay extra precaution. Dear Chad, you could take your smile and pretty pretty eyes away cause this one’s liver is not up for adoption.
Nope, no Chad’s look-alike or any other appealing male prospective whatsoever. The 2 men in this case happen to be a sixty something tata (that’s grandpa for you in Tamil) and a very, very drunk middle-aged man. I was heading home from an exam well-passed, so naturally I was feeling all sunshine and would have smiled to freaking everyone without even noticing it. Anyway, the mashrut had only one seat available, so took my seat and I started wondering about what my housemates would cook for dinner.
Then the tata entered the mashrut, and again I stood up to offer my place (what’s with me with giving up my seat? Smack me, someone!). The tata touched my hand slightly (suke hati je pegang tangan aku…) and motioned for me to sit down. He had this stern expression on his face, so I obliged.
Maybe there was something seriously wrong with my olfaction centre because I honestly did not smell the stench of alcohol coming from my neighbor until he started slurring incoherently. He started with meaneal small talks first.
“Today’s weather is great, isn’t it?” Right, it was a snow blizzard outside, couldn’t exactly fathom how it could be great in any way.
“Isn’t it great if all of us have a car on our own? Then we wouldn’t have to ride in such a cramped mashrut.”
“I want to buy a car. It’d be so ‘klassna’ (cool) to have one. Bla bla bla.” He was having a roll here, which was when I started to tune him off. People around were starting to chuckle, and some even went ahead to laugh (especially the idiotic Russian college kids) out loud at his antiques.
Suddenly he turned on his seat and looked specifically at me. “Lady, please. Give me 400 dollars. I need to buy that car. Only 400 dollars.”
I tried my best to ignore the guy. 400 dollars for a car? I don’t think a beat-up Lada even cost that cheap. Anyway, maybe he got the point there’s no way I’m handing him a single dollar while still sane, so he quit giving me the doe-eyed look and looked wistfully at the window.
“It’s very hard to find a Russian gentleman nowadays. You tried to give up your seat but that man in front of you didn’t even attempt to.” Oh, I swear I so wanted to ketuk that drunk’s man’s head. Thankfully the guy being ridiculed merely blushed, so I guess I don’t have to be afraid to be all mafia-ed out.
When I raised to leave, the drunk man spoke again. “God bless you, girl. God bless you.” He repeated this sentence numerous times, I didn’t have the heart to maintain stoic silence. So I thanked him.
It’s funny how such a small gesture of blessings, even under total influence of alcohol, managed to keep me smiling the whole day. The man might wake up not remembering me at all, but his prayer is something I would remember. And dude, I hope you get your car. 🙂
A/N: Saya sangat sedih Chelski seri dengan Reading. 4-oint gap is so the end of the world.