I glanced over my shoulder. A pretty young thing was trailing me as i hurried along the walkway next to the MRT station.
Do you remember Michael Jackson had this song Pretty Young Thing?
Dressed in an apple green spaghetti top and a jean skirt, she did not look dressed up enough to be working for the credit card companies. Those companies usually stipulate formal dressing code, even for their part-timers.
Excluding the differential of working for credit card company, my provisional diagnosis was that of a survey questionnaire administrator.
With the tell-tale sign of a writing pad over her
bosom chest, she casted me a million dollar smile, and her lips twitched in preparation to vocalise.
'I am in a hurry.' I pre-empted her, not wanting to waste my time, and hers.
'Oh I won't take too long.'
Not impressed, my feet continued carrying me at a velocity of 1 metre per second, I repeated, 'I am really in a hurry.'
'Sir are you working?'
I was like, Bingo! They will usually leave me alone after i tell them i am still a lowly student. I gleefully proclaimed that i am a student.
But i wasn't at all prepared for what comes next.
She shot me an incredulous look.
The same kind of incredulous expression. Check out his cool T-shirt. Led Zeppelin.
'You are still a student?!' Her tone was that of a complete disbelief. Maybe even disgust. Haha.
'Yes I am.' I bluntly replied. I was like, what the heck. Haven't you seen 25 years old students before?
So you have problem with a student's age... (Notre Dame de Namur honored their oldest graduate Ruth Singleton 82 who graduated in the school of arts and humanities)
Before i have even finished my train of thought, or rather the train of curses mentally, she poof-ed into the thin air, nowhere to be seen.