I've been complaining about the work I've had to do. Train accident, drownings, last minute frantic calls to people. Working weird shifts which upset your eating schedule and body clock...

And then yesterday I exchanged a few words with the friendly cleaner who washes the toilets near my seat spanking clean each night at approximately 7pm.

In the poor light of the toilets, I always thought she was a young girl, because of her taut skin. But in the harsh light of the noon sunshine, I realised she had white streaks in her hair and fine lines under the eyes. I'd put her in her 40s, more likely.

So I greeted her politely and asked, "Just came to work?"

Her English is not great, so she thought I asked if she was working, and she said yes. Then she realised her mistake and said, oh no no no, she's been at work since 7.30am!

So I asked, "Morning shift?"

And she said, "Oh, I finish at 9.30pm."

"So long???"

"Yah."

But she didn't say it with any impatience nor any resignation. She just smiled and laughed it off. I wish I could do it too, to accept that we lead different lives and this is how mine is panning out.

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"Is salmon sashimi an aphrodisiac?" she wondered.

He had started acting a little different, a little out-of-sorts ever since that salmon sashimi. He had fumbled with the chopsticks, she remembered. The salmon wouldn't sit still between the two slim pieces of wood, insisting on sliding beyond his reach. He finally gave up and used his fingers to prop them between the chopsticks. She had giggled at him, and teased him a little.

Then, he reached for her hand, picked it up between his fishy fingers and kissed it, like an old-fashioned gentleman. She made them laugh, when she sniffed at her hand, to make sure it wasn't fishy!

Then, squeezing through a tight space in a crowded store, he reached for her hand and held it as they passed through. He ran a finger across her back, just before he told her a funny story about a group of schoolboys comparing the relative merits of condoms in the supermarket aisle they'd just passed.

A 50 per cent off sale on smart dress shirts caught his eye, and he tugged her towards the store. "Do you mind?" he asked. "Not at all," she said, because, after all, shopping was her weakness too. And she did kind of like the feeling of shopping with him.
The salesgirl shooed him into a dressing room to try on two shirts. Nice colour, she thought, of the first shirt, but a tad too short in the sleeve.

"One size larger," she told the salesgirl.

He tried it on and it was perfect.

When the salesgirl went back into the shop to try to sell him another five shirts, he said "shhh come here", and tugged his best friend into the dressing room with him. She looked quizzically at him as he drew the curtain shut. Then he took her into his arms, and bent his head down.

She knew he was going to kiss her. And he did. The lightest, most feathery, softest, most gentle kiss she never imagined.

"Is this okay?" he asked. She thought that was just darling.

She smiled shyly at him, and wound an arm around his neck, leaning into him.
His lips met hers again, soft yet firm. And then once more, again.

It felt perfect.

But her head (damned logical head!) reminded her where they were, and before she knew what she was doing, she'd untangled herself from him, and she felt herself flush as she slipped from the room back into the store.

Even without turning back, she knew the salesgirl was looking at her, with that I-know-what-you-just-did thousand-mile stare.

She no longer knew what to think.
Their crazy friendship was about to get crazier, she thought.

It must have been that salmon sashimi, she figured.

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Just a little something I want to preserve:

"Remember the good times, never the bad;
Only the happy, but not the sad.
Good times glitter and sparkle, like a star up above;
They speak of our friendship, our laughter, our love."

Something I came up with. =)  For my friends and for the good memories.

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He calls it Friendship 2.0.

Friendship 1.0, before the big upset, was nothing spectacular. It was just like normal friends. We tried it out, we liked it, but it wasn't The Big Easy. It was okay.

Just like Web 2.0, Friendship 2.0 is the new-and-improved version. There is more interaction, it's more enjoyable, there's more two-way communication. It's more social!

Hehe... I love our new term.


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In other news, Julia Roberts in the new film Duplicity is quite the 'complicity'.
Roberts is gorgeous, even though she's a little older, and I love her sparkling eyes and expressive mannerisms.

I wish there was more spy action though, and less cerebral play.

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You know, people are never satisfied, right?

When you have a job, you're looking for a better boss, better pay, better prospects.
When you have a yummy bowl of ramen, you wonder why you didn't get the platter of sushi.
When you've been given a hug, you want a hug AND a kiss.

In this case today, I'm obviously referring to my aunt's new bed.
It arrived this morning, a beautiful, high, firm and bouncy queen-sized bed and mattress.
It's an upgrade from the super-single she has had for the past 10 years, and where I'd gone to snuggle and huddle with her, particularly as a kid when I had a nightmare. When I didn't feel well, that's where I'd lie and moan and she'd pat me to sleep.

When I got my massive allergic reaction, and my throat swelled up and I almost died, that's where I collapsed, after throwing up in the bathroom, and where she got me into fresh, non-sweat-soaked clothes to make the trip to the hospital.

That's where I lie on my side on weekends, letting cable TV rot my brain, while she tries to take a nap. She complains that I've made a dent on the right side, which I affectionately claim for my own. And I steal her pillows, heh.

For the first hour of the new bed arriving, I loved the bed. It was much, much larger than that super-single she had for years. We both could lie on the bed and not wheedle each other with complaints of "Move a bit, not enough space..." or "You're blocking the TV..."

But then, I realised that if I stretched out my arms, gosh, I'd have taken up the entire bed! If I were a few inches taller, I could actually find myself touching the bottom edge.
If I had to share the bed, hmm.... we might fight for space!

If ... If... If...
If only we had a bigger bed.

Can you imagine that? We're never satisfied. After living for 10 years with a smaller bed, within hours of getting a larger one, we want another larger one.

At this rate, I'll be buying a very huge king-sized bed for my own new room.
Do beds come in super-kings?
=p

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