Marry, Quite Contrary

When they’re blocked and need inspiration, some artists go for a walk in the forest. Apparently, the clean air and quiet helps unlock their creative juices. Though after recently watching ‘The Blair Witch Project’, Saffy says the only juices shewould be unlocking in the forest would be her pee. “Oh my God, I cannot believe how scary that movie is!” she moaned the next morning, having spent the night with all the lights on in her bedroom. “I think I might actually have peed a little!”

            Amanda was astonished. “How have you only just watched it? It’s like a million years old!”

            “And still scary as hell!” Saffy told her, her magnificent bosom still trembling at the memory of the final moments in that creepy house. 

            “I know right?” Amanda said. “I remember watching it and thinking there was no way I was ever walking in any forest. Not even in daylight!”

            Saffy’s bosom inflated. “And that whole shaking camera thing! I thought I was going to throw up.”

            “So, I guess you’re not coming with us to MacRitchie later?” I asked.

            “Not on your life,” Saffy said firmly. “You’d better leave your phone on, so I can track you in case you don’t come back by dinner!”

            “Your loss,” Amanda said as she stuffed a water-bottle into her backpack.

            “I just don’t see the attraction of walking through a bunch of trees,” Saffy said, sinking, with each syllable, deeper into the sofa. “All those insects. Mosquitoes especially. They love me. They must smell my sweet blood a mile away!”

            Apparently, they can smell mine too because we were barely ten minutes into our walk along the boardwalk before I was madly scratching at five bites on my arms and legs. 

            “I had better not get dengue from this!” I swore. 

            A voice floated up from behind me. “Choy! No joke, ah. I ever get dengue before. Wah! Must take MC for a month, ah, I tell you!” Sharyn emerged from the gloom of the forest, spritzing the air around her with a fog of mosquito repellent. 

            Already, I was beginning to think maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. The humidity was pressing down and I could feel a thick film of sweat form over my skin, which seemed to make the itching even worse. I considered turning back, but with my sense of direction, I was nervous I’d end up in Mandai, either dead or half chewed up by an alligator. 

            “Do they have alligators in Mandai?” I asked.

            Sharyn gave the matter some thought. “Maybe, but I think more likely you get swallowed by a big snake!”

            There was a moment of silence as the three of us imagined the scene. When you’re in the middle of a thick forest, and it’s hot and stifling, it’s easy to imagine all kinds of thing lurking in the shadows. We stiffened at a rustling in the bushes off to the side.

            “Aiyoh!” 

            Just then, some voices came up from behind us. 

            “So, tell me, what do you like about me?” a woman’s voice asked. 

            “What, ah? Uhm,” said a man. “You’re very ar-tick-cu-lert!”

            “Ay? Really ah? What else?”

            “Yah. Uhm…you have very good interpersonal skills!”
            “Chayyy!” The woman giggled. 

            We looked around. For once, even Sharyn was silent. 

            In the middle of MacRitchie, she was in a short white mini-skirt with three-inch wedge heels, and he in a Dolce & Gabbana floral tee-shirt and tight jeans that showed off his skinny legs and flat ass. 

            “Marry me, lah, Cheryl!” he begged, linking his arm tighter around her waist as she tottered next to him. “We can be Singapore’s power couple!”

            She giggled again. “Cannot, lah! My sinseh say this year cannot marry! Dog year no good for union!”

            We caught a good glimse of his pout as they walked past, oblivious to our presence. “So what you want?” he whined. “I cannot keep this post open forever you know! I am so ellie-ger-ble!” 

            “I sleep with you, can orredi lah, baby!”

            “But only once, leh!”

            “Next year, we marry, ‘K?”

            Later that evening, it was still all we could talk about. 

            “That is such good dialogue!” Saffy sighed. “I wish I’d been there! I watched ‘Suits’ all afternoon.”
            “He told her she had good interpersonal skills!” Amanda marveled. “It was like he was interviewing her for a job.”

            “Ay, isn’t that what marriage is all about?” Sharyn asked.

            “That’s so unromantic,” Saffy observed, no doubt still thinking about Meghan Markle and Prince Harry.

            “This is so going into my next column,” I promised. “I was beginning to stress I had nothing to write about!”