Musings…

Well, well, well. Whaddaya know. Bad run continues, drama-like. Sigh. It kind of begs the question: What’s next?

                        What’s next???

                                    What’s NEXT???

            That question echoes in my mind somewhat, taunting, haunting.

            Last night, I got locked inside my own home. A stroke of God’s ingenuity isn’t it? “Let’s put some more obstacles forth for this wretched little monkey,” he thought. “That ought to tickle her out of her misery.”

            And lo and behold, the door knob screwed up big time on me that even opening it with a key from the outside couldn’t do the trick.

            I almost couldn’t believe my luck. Twisted the door knob once. Hmmh, I thought, scratching my head. What is happening? Was it that my hand was too slippery? Or was I imagining things because I’m over exhausted? Maybe it felt like I was twisting the knob but I actually wasn’t…hallucination??

            Second trial – eyeballs rolled upwards for a few seconds, a snicker or two escaped but still it wasn’t sinking in.

            Third trial – tongue began curling with curses, followed by a frantic series of door knob wracking and bashing.

            Subsequent trials – stared heavenward in mock irony for a while before picking up the phone and to call Pluto.

            Ahhh…drama at its best, isn’t it?

            “Hellpp.. the metal thing is stuck in the hole and wouldn’t come out…” I started to explain when my favorite Plutoan got to the front door. “Try opening with the key.” I detached the key from the bunch and slipped it under the door.

            No luck. Pluto started fiddling with the lock with his business card. That destroyed it completely. I went into the study and picked up the strongest looking ruler I had in my collection and poked the living daylights out of that ‘metal thing’. Arse luck magnified.

            The only lucky thing I remember about the night was me being an observant keh-poh-chi. I recall seeing the number for the locksmith in the lift of the condo, recalled how I made a mental note during that time that I should take down the number in case shit happens one day and I’m in need of a locksmith. Alas, being a procrastinating jackass sitting in the comfort zone, I didn’t take down the number. So shit avalanched down and sank me under.

            Thank god for Pluto, who went on and got the number for me. Oh…and I did vow to pick up Cantonese somewhere along the way last night. Because the locksmith and I were talking like chicken and duck before I switched none too expertly into my rusty Penang Hokkien. Despite that, he and his assistant went to the wrong apartment and only turned up 45 minutes later.

             They had to knock down the knob before I was ‘released’ from my cell into the big world out there. Rahh! What was it I said about money flowing out again? Damn damn damn. I know just exactly what Mommy would say: “Thank God that there wasn’t a fire and you’re not a roasted pig…” or something to that flavor. When I met with that accident, she had said something similar. Oh, as if it would infuse positivity in something that was so clearly…negative. I guess the best gift in life is the ability to laugh at yourself, console yourself and be gentle to yourself when shit drops its load on you.

             Anyway, so when the men were fixing the door, bad luck number two chose to rear its ugly head. The fluorescent light at the balcony couldn’t have selected a better moment to go berserk right at that point of time, flashing shamelessly as though it was the main feature in Scream or Psycho. Pluto dutifully prodded around, like the mechanical engineer he is, and tried to change the starter. A few minutes later, he confirmed that the light would soon die on me. Good gripes.

            As if that wasn’t enough, this morning, I made some pooh-poohs that would make any self respecting person blush brick red. I had a morning appointment…an urgent one in Shah Alam. Since I didn’t have a car, and I was driving Pluto’s, I had to fetch him to work before going forth with my day. The appointment was at 930. So, I thought since I had some free time in my hands, I would work on my new writing project. Good plan, wasn’t it? I pride myself for being a productive and efficient person ‘at times’, when my brain doesn’t fail me.

            And so, I reached this mamak where the roti canais came highly recommended. I reached out for my laptop bag, sat down and ordered. The Chinese man beside me looked up and smiled courteously. I gave a stoned half-smile in return, reluctant to make any contact with strangers. He continued to look at me; maybe my laptop bag was out of the ordinary in a mamak…I don’t know.

            Throwing him half a dirty look because I didn’t want to be too obvious, I unzipped the bag and WALLA! Nothing but beads from the broken sachet of absorbent/preservative. NO LAPTOP.

            From the corner of my eye, I caught the man stifling what sounded like half a snicker and half laughter. Slowly, I felt the blood rise to my face. Trying to act as though nothing happened, I said a thankful prayer when the roti canai arrived.

            The man would not be ignored.

            “Bring bag but no laptop, eh?” the smart jackass said.

            I looked at him, flashed him a Bugs-bunny toothy grin and dug into my food as though it was the tastiest thing in the world. 

            I couldn’t wait to leave. And then, in the car, I burst out laughing so hard tears started forming at the tip of my eyes. It was madness, I was going along the lines of Mommy’s thinking. It could have been worse. I could have done that in front of the customers AND my principal. Oh, what a big dork, I thought in misery all my way back to the office after the meeting.

            Sigh.

            Patience, I tell myself. Half a day is gone. But the man up there seems as though he wasn’t ready to give up his game on his lab rat. Supposingly, I was meant to be the clown of the day. As I walked into my office, I heard the sound of laughter…we had customers over, so it happens. I had to pass the conference room to reach my own, so trying to look professional, I walked on and nodded at the people in the room.

            Just for half a second because the next thing I knew, I felt my feet skidding, cartoon-like in the air, in bicycle peddling motion. Clumsily, I grabbed onto the partition and that shook it so badly the whole building seemed to quiver.

            What made it worse was the fact that the customers jumped off their seat, almost in alarm, as though they could spring to where I was and catch me should I fall.

            “Careful,” they told me, sounding as though they were trying very hard not to laugh.

            I didn’t trust my voice to laugh or say anything in return. Man, just strike me dead, why don’t you? I chastised Him silently.

            “Better wear lower heels,” one man offered.

            I gave a totally unprofessional giggle and went on to my room. And slipped once again before I got to the table.

            Like…what the *&%^&^%&* is happening?? I was pissing myself off big time. Such unsophistication was intolerable in the life of Eunice!!! Sigh. Not believing that I could be such a dork, I did some detective work. The floor looked mysteriously shinier than normal. Hmmhh…weirdness at its peak.

            In the end, I found out that our driver spilled some liquid C15-C25 onto the floor earlier that morning, and had used the mop to mop up the lubricant/ emollient…the same mop that the cleaners then used to mop the floor. AWGGHHHHHHHH!!! Can you believe the workings of fate? That was like a booby trap set waiting for me to walk right into it.

            Sigh, so Chapter 2 of Arse Luck run continues unchallenged.

            Run along, why ever not? Run along.

Note: Did I really just call myself a wretched little monkey???

            

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