11th March, approximately 1.30-1.40. On my way to SJAB Camp, I catch a taxi. Skoda brand, unfortunately I'm not nearly good enough with cars to know their model, nor do I remember the plate number. It's one of those white taxis that aren't Mercedes. The taxi driver looks 30 or so, and acts the part, given the lack confidence he had in himself the moment I asked him to go to ACSI. In addition, he just got his taxi license recently.
The taxi driver introduces himself to me, even showing me a namecard. What taxi driver needs to advertise himself as a taxi driver, so much that he needs namecards? What surprised me further was what was said on the namecard:
Spencer Chan (Pianist).
Mobile: ---- ---- Email: ----------------------
Piano Solo, Group Performances
Recording Services
Music Teacher.
What's a pianist doing in a taxi? Sudden loss of work? Somewhat -- Spencer said that he no longer worked 6 out of 7 days, so he had to find revenue through some other means. Just so happened that he saw this car model one day and decided - hey, neat car. Why don't I take it? So he joined the company and drove a taxi model that he liked. But shouldn't he have other backup ideas instead of just walking along randomly to see cars? How long has he worked in this industry? 30 full years. He was 50+ by then.
Spencer continued to talk rather enthusiastically about his pianist job, the stuff he does, the studio he lives in, the equipment he owned, and also showed me pictures on his handphone, while continuing to drive. It's particularly fascinating to be able to strike up a conversation with a complete stranger, and be able to learn about their lives, seeing surprises and on. I certainly didn't expect this 30-looking taxi driver to be a part-time taxi driver who's actually been a pianist for 30 years, starting from the age of 20-something.
At ACSI, I posed him a single question.
"Thanks for all that. Just a question, how long have you been driving this taxi?"
"Around one month."
"And you've been introducing yourself to every single person you've met thus far?"
"I call it networking."
Even as a taxi driver, he doesn't let any opportunity for any possible performance go off.
I suppose he wouldn't have minded if I put his email on my blog, considering that it is, after all, networking, but I think I'll just keep it safe.
------------------------------------------------------------
15th March, approximately 2.15-2.45pm.
I go up to the Serangoon MRT Convenience Store, while patiently waiting for Kuang. The magazines outside the store are completely open, as if inviting me to touch and read them. I take a copy of GameAxis, and move to the side in the case where someone else wants to read the magazines. Roughly five seconds later, a women comes out of the store, taking back the book, giving a menacing look at me. I ask "I can't read it?" and was replied with a prompt "Not only can't you read it, you moved out of my sight! Are you trying to steal or something?" Apparently she was the shopkeeper, and my moving away made her lose sight of me for that short moment.
"Sorry, ma'am, I was mistaken."
"Were you trying to steal from my shop?"
"No, ma'am. Sorry."
I move away towards the exit, and turn around. She is still staring at me. I move out, and wait at the bus stop for 15 minutes. Meanwhile I contemplate what just happened, decide I was an idiot and laughed off the situation.
She comes out, and looks at me. Then she asks if I was the one from just now.
"Yes, I was."
"Were you trying to steal from my shop?"
"Ma'am, I've said it just now. I didn't."
"How do I know? You moved away just like that. You know I've had so many people stealing magazines from my shop that..."
"Ma'am, honestly, it's because of your arrangement of the magazines. They're outside and open, and..."
"What does this have to do with you, harh? I am the shopkeeper here. I can place the magazines wherever I want. You got something with that?"
"Ma'am, it's because of that that people are stealing magazines and misunderstandings like this occur..."
"I am the shopkeeper. I place the magazines wherever I want. You have no business in the placement of my magazines. I don't want to see you anymore."
"...Ma'am, I haven't come here in one year..."
"I don't care. I don't want to see you anymore. If I see you come around again I'll call the police on you."
"..."
She leaves. I get rather pissed and wanted to incite her into calling the police just for the experience and the fact that I'll probably get off scott free. But alas, Boey's birthday party is a more important issue than getting into trouble for fun, and I decide against it.
-------------------------------------------------
A child walks along the deck of a large ship. Twilight shines down ever so dimly. On one side of the ship, the horizon is of a city of glistering gold. On the other side of the ship, are the lights of ships in a vast and open sea. I look at the sky on each end. The city faces an empty sky. The ships stare up to a starry night.
The wind blows against his jacket, and it nearly flies off. Catching it, he decides to take another look at the two sides, and makes a realization. The number of shimmers are the same. Stars, after all, can be speckled along a black ocean as they can in a silent sky. This simple and trivial realization makes him smile, and he walks against the wind towards the doors back to his cabin. The doors open up, and all the cold air rushes out. The boy clutches at his jacket, and walks through. The doors close in on him.
Silence.
No comments:
Post a Comment