My motivational levels have been running low lately, much like the excuses of our government to justify their ‘good governance’. My self-prescription for this rare condition of mine was retail therapy, after consulting my financial advisor in the form of an ATM, of course.
Retail therapy took just 40 minutes and in that 40 minutes, I bought two things which I don’t have time for these days - a toy and some books. After satisfying my mental state and having nothing left to spend, besides on a glass of teh tarik and on the parking ticket, I decided to leave.
With my new toy and books in a pink plastic bag hooked onto my index finger, I stepped onto the escalator, which will take me to the ground floor from the fourth. After a while I noticed everyone, on the opposite escalator - the one heading up - looking at me, before veering to the family in front of me and then back at me. Baffled, I looked at the family before me and saw what these people saw.
On that same escalator, there before me stood (what looks like) a Poh Poh or grandma, Kong Kong or grandpa, with their granddaughter and grandson (whom are still eligible for kindergarten, I think). Hooked onto this boy’s and girl’s index fingers was their own respective pink plastic bag and in those pink plastic bags, their own respective toy. Now, zoom out and see the whole picture, with me, holding onto my own pink plastic big that holds my own toy. Zoom out some more watch me as slide, quietly down, from the fourth floor to ground, with this family of four before me. I AM NOT THEIR GRANDCHILDREN!
Damn you, coincidence! Some times you’re on my side but when you put me in a joke, why must I always be your punchline? I wish I had the guts to pull out my phone, press it against my ear and shout, “Look, the kids miss you, okay! THEY MISS YOU! THEY ARE YOUR KIDS TOO! They are too young to understand what is D-I-V-O-R-C-E. Why don’t YOU buy toys for them the next time YOU spend time with them!”
(And repeat after, in the next flight of escalator, on the next floor.)