Monday, February 14, 2005

Close Encounter of The Dutch Kind

I was in the midst of explaining the concept of mathematical differentiation and integration to Lily when Kent suddenly gave me a nudge with his elbow. (I know exchanging beauty tips and the latest meetup experiences would be a more appropriate subject for a Saturday’s night out at San Fran, Bukit Bintang, but it was a extremely hot and humid night, and we didn’t want to get all sweaty talking about men). I turned to look at Kent, and found his eyes fixed on a moving object a few meters away, and with such admiring looks written all over his face, I knew this would definitely be worth it.

So I looked up, in time to catch the object in action. You were wearing a sleeveless tee, semi-concealing what looked like ripples of muscles fresh from a good workout at the gym. The matching jogging pants were thoughtfully baggy so as not to reveal too much of the heavenly tool, which otherwise would further turn up the temperate around the café due to overly excited heat generation from enthusiastic admirers who had now cease all communication and had their full attention to this object.

And then we established eye contact, and time stood still. Next to me, I heard Carol and Lily and the rest let out a muted ‘Ouch’ as sparks hit their skin. 10 meters from each other, we carried on with this most native form of communication channel, you with your slow walk across the length and breath of our coffee table and me seated on my chair with my eight other sisters. And then you disappeared behind a pillar, bringing the contact to a premature termination.

Before my sisters could pinch me for setting parts of their clothes on fire, you reappeared again from behind the pillar, not to walk back to where you came from, but straight at us. We re-established eye contact again as you inched your way forward.

“Hi! Did you wave at me just now?”

I wanted to say I would be too weak to even raise a finger, but was lost for words. I guess you took the momentary lapse of response as a ‘YES!’, and promptly pulled a chair and sat down next to me. I caught sight of your dirty blonde hair and green eyes and started to blush while you began to introduce yourself.

Half way through, as though sensing I needed some time to catch my breath, you walked to the counter to get a drink. With the distraction temporarily off radar, my sisters, who had watched the entire episode with utter disbelief, started questioning if I knew you, and soon the lecture expanded to cover lessons about the dangers of inviting unwanted attention with naughty eyes.

I soon loosen up and got used to seeing a Dutch hunk sitting 5 inches from me, and we talked more. Sorry I couldn’t follow you to Liquid, my sisters preferred not to loose their beauty sleep over a distant thought of hooking up someone in a disco choked with bodylicious male models wannabe.

I saw Lily taking a mental note of registering this as one of the Top 5 subject matter to bring up if we were to run out of juicy conversation topics during our regular café sessions.


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