It’s weird how Linkin Park is screaming out from my speakers. It’s weird how the phrase “Put me out of my misery†blasts from my speakers as I decide to start to write this.
I really thought the day couldn’t get any worse. But I was totally wrong. It’s weird how things suddenly took a nosedive halfway through the day. Life’s just full of surprises isn’t it?
The day started out fine. I’d planned to send the boyf to work and once I make my mind up, hardly anything will move me. He’d called me at 8 and upon hearing my sleepy voice, asked me to sleep in. But like I said earlier, once I decided that I WAS going to send him to work, I wasn’t going to let fatigue stop me. Plus, I had the whole day to myself and mum, so we could have lunch with the boyf after I’d sent him to work.
Twas all good from the moment I said “GOâ€. I got dressed in the boyf’s fave getup (short denim shorts no less), bought breakfast and waited at the station for his arrival. But somehow, the train just didn’t want to stop at my station and I had to meet the boyf at Eunos instead of our usual door at Kembangan. The train ride was pleasant and everything went off without a hitch. Even lunch was pretty okay. I have to admit I wasn’t looking my best. My hair was a scruffy oily mess. I was in geeky glasses and I bet my face was shiny from the humidity. I didn’t get to impress them with my supposed innate wit and charm. But I guess shutting up and sitting there picking at my beef fried rice trying not to get anything on my face was the best I could do given my shabby appearance.
Lunch was over in a jiffy and the boyf had to return to work. My phone had died and I had to resort to using mum’s phone, which was all good in the grand scheme of things because otherwise the news would have come earlier and ruined my entire fucking day.
It wasn’t until I was on my way home that I decided to switch on my newly purchased Korean made phone that I saw I’d received a missed call from an unknown number. The new phone only read numbers from SIM and I had a tonne of numbers stored on my old Sony Ericsson phone hence the decision to call the number back. It was only common courtesy to return a missed call.
With that decision to call the number back, I’d single handedly ruined my entire day. As I walked the usual route home with mum walking next to me, listening to my entire conversation no less, I was informed that during the roadshow I’d done over the weekend, we’d been spied on and there’d been a long list of complaints against us. It was reported that Amy and I had guys visiting us and boyfriends and us been caught PDA-ing in public in the fugly uniform. Also, there’d also been a complaint saying that I’d trouble giving out flyers. I was appalled and outraged.
1) WHO THE FUCK are you to go around taking pictures of us in secret? Yes, twas me and the boyf who HUGGED each other behind the backdrop, but it was not as if it was in front of the tentage in the public eye?
2) IS IT MY BLOODY FAULT IF PASSERSBY DON’T WANT TO ACCEPT THE FLYERS WE DISTRIBUTE? AM I SUPPOSED TO SHOVE IT DOWN THEIR THROATS OR THREATEN THEM TO ACCEPT THE FLYERS? Get your fucking idea straight.
3) Is it fair to compare who gave out more flyers?
4) It’s insane to even suggest that I’d go to the toilet and PDA with my boyfriend there. HELLO. If I go to the toilet and disappear for half an fucking hour, people would think we’d gone off for a quick fuck. DON’T BE STUPID.
Bloody Korean has absolutely no common sense. And it’s not as if we were SLACKING the whole bloody time we were there. Initially we were informed that it was our job to stand there and look pretty with the phones. But instead, we had to turn into promoters too. Amy and I went out on a limb to help sell your fucking phones. We had to know the specifications of the phone, the price of the phones, play up it’s good points and basically DO EVERYTHING THAT WE WERENT SUPPOSED TO DO. And this is the thanks we get. Bloody ingrate. And to think I sold a FUCKING PRADA PHONE FOR YOU. Wait a Prada phone on top of the Shine Bar, Shine Slider and God knows what other phone. Who’s keeping count? Oh did I mentioned I SPENT MY PAY FROM THE ENTIRE THREE DAYS ON ONE OF YOUR BLEEDY PHONES! Again, this is the thanks we get from the fucker of a Korean.
The day didn’t end there. After receiving the “devastating” news and trying to resolve the issue from home, I had to drag my lethargic self out from my comfort zone to the dance studio. Dance itself isn’t so much the chore nowadays. It’s the trouble of having to beat the mutha crowd of City Link who always seems intent on making me late for my class. What’s UP man. I mean MOVE BITCHES. STOP strolling.
At the start of my usual daily marathon, my newly purchased contacts started to act up. It kept shifting about in my eye and all of a sudden, the damn thing popped out of my eye just before I got on the escalator. I had to contend stopping and trying to stick my finger in my eye in front the entire world or wait till I got to the safety of Millenia Walk to try to regain my vision. I decided on the latter and upon doing so, had to hold a minute dried up plastic ball in the palm of my hands. The effing air-con of City Link dried my contacts up and it was impossible to pry it apart given its folded state. I would have torn it to bits.
I reached Marina Square and managed to buy dinner half blind. I had to hold 2 plastic bags in my left hand and make sure the dried up plastic mess didn’t fall from my grasp. Thank goodness the studio wasn’t far from Marina Square and I was praying very hard that Marcus had contact lens solution in his Doraemon bag so I could soak my lens and get it back where it belonged. But unfortunately this was one time his have-it-all bag didn’t have an answer. So I had to go get it from the pharmacy.
The first one I entered, Guardian didn’t have the brand that Marcus wanted. So I had to venture down to Watson and I was fervently praying that I’d be able to find what I needed there and solve all my contact lens woes. I found the brand and made a mad dash back to the studio cause I was already late for class. BAH! It took a good few minutes with me in the toilet cupping my palm to contain the contact lens solution before the lens finally unfolded into it’s original working shape.
But that wasn’t the end. As I was on my way out to meet Mark and Paulyn. THE FUCKING LENS POPPED OUT AGAIN. KNNBCCB. I wanted to die. It had already been a trying day and I just wanted it to end. All I wanted was a BREAK. Speaking of break, did I mention that during Clare’s class, MY PANTS TORE LIKE DOWN THE SEAM IN THE FRONT? God. Thank God I had brought an extra pair pants that was supposed to be meant for Trev, but he never got about to using it. So I changed halfway during class and continued from where I left off.
I hope this bleedy incident doesnt leave a black mark on my record with Essentials. A record for PDA-ing or whatever fuck reason they want to black mark me with. I have GOOD work ethics and a clear conscience and they’d better get that into their thick skulls. I thought that the relationship between employee and employers should be built on trust. And not on undercover spy tactics. Pfffft. I hope CommunicAsia for Sony will be better. Cause for now, all I want to say is, FUCKING KOREANS.
At least the people I worked with were nice.
