keep sharp

written some other day

I purchased this pair of ballet flats from shoes shoes shoes adorned with rather sharp spikes. This, I thought, would serve as a metaphor for how i would lead my life: nothing and nobody would dare step on my toes.

I write this entry after battling with a woman in car park of BV1 over an empty parking spot this afternoon. It was a classic case of ‘I saw it first’. I wanted to back in but she pushed her way forward such that I had no room to park. I had little choice but to move forward and find another spot. I was befuddled at her belligerence before ire overcame me. I hoped she would choke on her alfafa, for I saw her walk into the organic food shop. In the broad daylight I observed her physiognomy: rimless spectacles, greying hair, gooseberry lips. She carried a green grocery bag and wore jeans with a plain red shirt. She did not see me, but her mien was wrought with discontentment, as though someone had just wronged her. Foolish lady. All that organic food couldn’t save your unsightly wrinkles now, I thought bitterly. My wit was lost on me; I mostly use expletives to convey my dismay and anger. Moreover, I was late for brunch and I still had to pick up tomato soup for my grandmother. Karma, I thought, would exact revenge on her for being impertinent.

I also write this as I sit on the bus going back to Singapore. I am writing this because a thin slit eyed lady has just reclined her seat almost maximally.  She is in my lap. What personal space I have left I don’t know. Her partner has been playing with his iPhone for the past 5 hours. Perhaps she is tired of him and wishes to feign sleep so that she won’t seem so upset at his lack of entertainment value. Or perhaps she is simply just being rude. When she boarded the bus, she looked at me as if she had a great pile of shit under her nose. Her partner/husband/pussywhip then looked at me curiously. I wondered why this was. Did my thick framed hipster glasses repulse you? Did they incur your wrath such that you feel the need to recline your seat almost all the way back into my lap to kickstart some ridiculous passive aggressive war? Did they invoke feelings of general dissatisfaction at what your life could have been? You ridiculous woman. I am ridiculous for not saying anything to her, for I am the high queen of passive aggression.

I look at my shoes. The irony.


Comments are closed.

%d bloggers like this: