Quite a bit of hoo-ha has been going on at my school about this security guard.
Let’s call her Curly – because of her err … curly hair.
Of all the buildings she had to be assigned too, we were unfortunate enough to have her assigned to the Information Systems building … and having to bear with her crap too.
She shouts and screams at students for no apparent reason, barges into group study rooms when she sees a boy and a girl studying or working on a project together (and seated far apart, may I add) and accusing them of involving in hanky panky (WTF?!?). To make things worse, she is rude to all the professors, the VIPs who visit our school … and even to our dean.
Well, what made things slightly bearable was the presence of another Indian security guard (who has been around far longer than Curly did) at our building. She’s really nice, and is generally well-liked by everyone in the school.
And for the record, she can’t stand Curly as well. How she survives working on her daily 12-hour shifts is completely beyond me.
Anyway, Curly went missing for the past week or so from our building and it was rejoice galore. Rumours were going around about her being fired, having been transferred out or having dropped dead due to excessive shouting (?!?).
And the littl’uns who have lost their student passes needn’t fear entering the building via the main gantries (since they can easily stroll through the visitor’s gantry without fear of being yelled at) … at least for the past few days.
I’ve spotted Curly at the school’s administration building towards the end of last week, which somewhat solved the mystery of where she went. Somehow, she had been transferred there – which I learnt later, was due to excessive complaints from the Information Systems student and faculty community who couldn’t tolerate her nonsense any further.
Well, the administration block suited her – I feel.
She can terrorize all the admin staff there and they wouldn’t give a hoot since they get a kick out of terrorizing us students anyway.
And yes, that’s the background story.
A coupla’ buddies and myself were on our way to our good ol’ Information Systems block this afternoon when the topic of Curly came up – and they filled me in on the details I had apparently missed out on.
Basically, the other two security guards who handled the afternoon shifts with Curly at the administration block couldn’t stand her either and they had requested for her to be transferred elsewhere again.
Since the higher authorities had no other place to thrust Curly upon, they had kindly asked our remaining friendly Indian security guard as to whether Curly could resume her duties at the Information Systems block. For obvious reasons, our Indian security guard said ‘no’.
To conclude, the latest update we’ve heard as of this afternoon was that Curly will be banished from the school entirely, forever and ever amen.
Needless to say, we were in pretty high spirits as we approached the main entrance of our school …
… until we saw Curly standing by the gantries.
With her trademark crossed-arm (think Sir Stamford Raffles) pose.
With her stern, non-smiling face.
And with … that curly hair we’ve learnt to spot from a distance. (It’s become a conditioned reflex to dodge each time we see that hair anywhere.)
Immediately, the three of us turned to each other and yelped: “WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE DOING BACK HERE?!?”
Ladies and gentlemen, to be continued.
Gee, it’s been such a long time since the four of us took a proper photo together. (Okay, I lied. Our last photo had been early this year – but this is the first one in a long time where all of us look decent.)
Sticking together since young – the awesome foursome.
Clockwise from top left: David, me, Jeremiah, Matthias.
I look really tiny here.
The above was taken during a double celebration within my extended family – my uncle’s birthday, and the 1st birthday of his second grandson.
As usual, I came face to face with so many people I didn’t know. But then again, since when do we attend a large family gathering and not find any faces we don’t recognize?
Apart from the usual members of my extended family who meet on a regular basis – there were vast amounts of people from what I call, “the other extended family” – namely, the extended family of my cousin’s wife.
Kids, kids, everywhere
Boy, “the other extended family” really did know how to reproduce! Look at all the KIDS.
They ran around the living room, screaming their lungs out, shoving toy guns and all sorts of thingamajigs all over the place. They fought over balloons. They pushed each other. They threw themselves on the floor and kicked and screamed.
One kid crawled under my legs while I was seated – which made me jump up and yelp.
And another stepped on Jeremiah’s foot – which was recuperating in a huge cast after a recent operation. (Props to him for not jumping and yelping, though.)
And boy. Not only are they rowdy kids – they’re a bunch of smart alec rowdy kids.
There was one occasion where I shouted (to make myself heard over the din) at them to play outside the house instead of around the living room where plates and cups are precariously stacked, and the adults struggling to watch television.
The response I got?
“YOU WANT US TO PLAY ON THE ROAD AND GET KNOCKED DOWN AND DIE, IS IT?”
– Kid in the orange sleeveless tee.
Pfffffft, never heard of the garden and the backyard, is it?
More babies on the way?
I received news that a cousin (J) is expecting her second child. (Which makes the fifth kiddo from the fourth generation on the way.) I’ve another expecting cousin as well – although I’ve learnt of her pregnancy much, much earlier.
And it seems that my reactions towards each pregnancy are becoming more and more varied.
Eight years ago, when I received news that my first nephew is on his way, my response was an enthusiastic “Oh my gosh, that’s fantastic!”
Two years ago, upon learning about my upcoming second nephew, my response was a mere “Mmmmmph!”
Last year, when I learnt that the third nephew was coming along, my response was a sharp squeak – “Another boy?!?”
A couple of months ago when I learnt that another cousin is pregnant with her second child (in two years), I reacted with a … “WHAT?!? You mean they’re so bored they have no other form of entertainment at night?!?”
And after tonight’s news? I leaned towards my mum and whispered “Whose condom broke?” Needless to say, my speechless mum couldn’t garner any response.
Later on, J confessed that she decided to have a second child because Little Joshua (her first child, now seven years old) wanted her to.
I immediately had mental images of Little Joshua approaching both parents and asking – “Mummy, Daddy! Can you two have sex? Pleeeeeease?” and couldn’t stop cracking up after that. Hehehehe.
Indeed, it seems that technology advancements have pampered us all too much.
Take the optical mouse, for instance. Now, you can move that little cursor on your screen so freely, without the need to yank out the balls (har har har) of your mouse ever so often to get rid of the dust within.
I salute the optical mouse. It’s made my life so much easier ever since I got my first one in … 2005. Suddenly, Photoshop seemed three times easier to use, especially since I don’t have to CTRL-Z as many times when I do my illustrations and whatnot because that stupid ball within the mouse refuses to move again.
Perhaps this perfectly explains why I was practically tearing my hair out at Sakae Sushi this evening.
Some background knowledge. Sakae Sushi is a chain of restaurants located predominantly in Asia, serving sushi of all sorts at cheap prices. (At least, they claim to make sushi affordable – but with the recent price hike, I am starting to have my qualms.) The outlets provide computer screens with an attached mouse at every table from which you place your orders.
Apart from having to deal with the occasional soy sauce soaked mouse, and perhaps the mouse which has had its inner mechanisms completely whacked out by the previous occupant (most probably a kid!) spilling water all over it which I encounter ever so often – I also have to deal with the old, traditional wheel mouse.
Yes, the wheel mouse.
With the ball within.
I am guessing that they chose to stick with the wheel mouse because the mouse was in the shape of an adorable green frog which matched the restaurant chain’s logo really closely, and perhaps there was no optical mouse in a similar design.
But what’s the point of having an aesthetically pleasing wheel mouse, especially when the ball within simply REFUSES. TO. MOVE?!?
That wheel mouse was practically as useful as … a male mouse without any balls. (Err, okay. Corny, I know. I couldn’t think of anything better, considering all that is in my head now is nothing but mice, mice, mice.)
Oh, and the frog-shaped wheel mouse had two big eyes – which were actually the control buttons. And I found it extremely disconcerting to punch my fingers directly into the eyeball of a frog, real frog or not.
In a nutshell – placing one order of salmon sushi involved twenty slams of the mouse on the table (to dislodge the ball from it’s stuck position), another twenty attempts to move the mouse at least one centimetre (that’s the maximum the mouse will move before it gets jammed again) and countless frantic punching of the eyes … err, buttons.
Someone should declare the wheel mouse a lethal weapon. It drives people mad.