blog/enigma

Saturday, March 03, 2007

5:13 PM

Alright, today we shall be telling the story of Jiasheng the good Samaritan!
Ohkay, this morning we had the first Saturday band practice (Thanks Zhengyu for unwittingly morning-calling me) and on the way to school, just arriving at HCI, I stopped in my track, at the bus stop.
In my path, there was this square piece of leather with the words 'Myuk' on it. Oh, and with some intricate markings too.
Fine. Call me retarted, out of fashion sense. It's a wallet. Now, we face an enormous moral dilemma. Should we (hang on, when did you become involved? Since you read this. Too bad.)
a) Leave the wallet as it is as band practice is about to start?
b) Pick it up and spend whatever money there is in it. (It DID look pretty thick.)
c) Pick it up and turn it in. (Yeah, right. Are you that good? Like the sec 4 guy in my school who picked up 450 bucks and turned it in. The person-in-charge of the lost-and-found must be laughing his head off at that fool.)
Hello, who do you think I am? I did not get called the all-around honest guy for nothing alright?
(Wait. When did I get called that?)
The point is, I did not spend the seventeen-plus dollars inside.
It appeared that it belongs to this guy called Jason Ho Hon Sum who's in J1 now. Judging from all the Pastamania, Cafe Cartel, Soupoholic, etc etc privilege cards in his wallet, plus his condominium card at Rafflesia, this guy's pretty loaded.
Not to mention his American nationality. Not that I fawn after auburn skin and golden hair, but somehow I have this image that all PRs must have Mercedes to drive and money too much to spend.
Of course, I realize that is a grossly huge generalization, but as Mr. Leng said, those JAH-KAH-TAH Indonesian merchants' scions live in mansions with several blocks and take 5 minutes to walk down to the gate.
Aren't I jealous.
Anyway, after rudely rummaging through his wallet, I thought he was from HCJC. But it turns out that he's actually from NJC (Is that Nanyang JC? Or National? I guess the latter.) when I checked his blog later. Lucky I didn't follow LZ's advice to throw it to the HCI office.
Lucky, I am.
(You'll find that statement funny when you check his blog. Or not.)
Speaking about his blog, I found him to be an extremely verbose writer too! Now, I shall prove to the world that I'm not in the minority of bloggers who blog in standard English. Fine, substandard English. But whatever. At least there are people in this world who capitalize every letter that deserves to be so. And people who don't include vulgarities liberally in their posts.
So that's why when I biked to Rafflesia, his condo, I rehearsed the speech on what to say. (Seeing his established standard of English, and his wishlist inclusion of Chinese getting better, I guess it's viable)
And on a random note, the security there isn't much of a strict one. I could just tell the security guy I was visiting the unit and he just let me in. With my bike.
-Fast-forwards to me standing at his door-
-pressed doorbell-
-door opened-
-some tall guy opened the door-
(Oh, whatever, I'm short alright? But there was a step up the door, and I wasn't standing on it, so naturally he appeared taller.)
Agree with me.
-you agree-
Thanks. It's nice to be obeyed.
-you: !!!-
(Sorry. I'm obviously in a lame mood now. Or you can say I'm in a Mark mood. Or I'm just making an allusion to Mrs. Khoo, tribute to her leaving ProEd to teach Ortus.)
-you: whatever.-
Back to the point, Jason seems... different. From his photo in his I/C. I thought he had the iSparkian look (y'know, the nerdy-smiley look.). In fact, I THOUGHT he was an iSparkian. It's funny when you know now.
Okay, in my opinion, with his height, he's really shuai. [as in, more good-looking than his photo.] Yar, even more shuai than you, Sean. (Wait, why did I say that? Firstly, that fink don't read this blog, secondly, he don't care. Oh well. Randomness strikes again.)
Not that I can say that because I suddenly became very interested in the dirt on my shoe. In fact, I was momentarily stunned when he said, "Who are you looking for?" in Mandarin.
(Ooh. So he's not living alone. Stereotype canceled. )
I dumbly replied, "Oh, is there a Jason Ho living here?"
(In English. What did you expect? From that point onwards, he continued speaking Mandarin, and I continued in English.)
Him, "Oh where did you find it?"
Me, "At the bus stop,"
Him, "Oh are you from Hwachong?"
Me, "Yar,"
Him, *some mumbling about asking people from there*
Me, "Oh... Ohkay,"
Him, "So... erm... yar... thanks. Bye,"
Me, "Yes... welcome,"
Then he closed the door.
Wasn't that weird.
But come to think of it, you can't blame him, because what do you say when you see this sweat-sodden (I was biking from home, it was quite near) guy who turns up at your doorstep giving you your lost wallet?
Who happens to be incredibly ugly, by the way.
What did I expect anyway? Him to invite me in for tea? Grovel before me to show his gratitude?
Oh well.
Anyway. Yup. I biked home. And ta-da. Here ends my story.
(My English's getting more atrocious by the post.)

signed, jiasheng

19th Sept
hci
band/euphonium
doodler
blogger

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