i wake up and find an email from choonping to the effect that cad and heartless bastard and all else that that he is, he's back but has lost my number and i'll have to call him. i ring him up at 10 and arrange to meet him later in the day, when he's more awake, but first happily and eloquently accusing him of being a cad and a heartless bastard and all the rest, finishing up with an injunction for him to have my number tattooed on his arm. on a hot afternoon i am sitting at the bus stop outside naung court and three number 80s come by and choonping isn't on them. in the meantime i have got through three of the stories in my dorothy sayers volume and if he doesn't come on the next bus i will be through with the last and then i shall be v annoyed. i remember the last time i waited for choonping at the same bus stop he was 45mins late. which, to think about it, for choonping, isn't too bad. there's late, and then there's choonping-late. i think this might be in the vein of many of my male friends discovering that 100 metres could mean 100 metres, or it could be minzhi's kind of 100m.
choonping's hair is shorter than when i last saw him, bright blondish mop slapped atop a brownish mound. his hair has undergone so many incarnations that i can never remember what colour it was when last i saw him. we hop on a 136 (which we first had to run after) to serangoon gardens, and brownbox, much to our disgust, is closed on tuesdays. cartel was the next best place, and a sundae was in order. choonping gallantly offered me the maraschino cherry, but i let him have it. can you knot a cherry stalk with your tongue? the ability to knot a cherry stalk with the tongue is a most attractive quality in men. if i were a princess and i would most certainly screen my princes by giving them the cherry stalk test.
the conversation gets around to the good old days, when we were 14 and flamboyantly strange and noisy. he reminded me of a boy i dated once, (meaning on one occasion, not at one time), which boy he had either dared (or bet with another that he wouldn't) to ask me out. conscience striken later, or perhaps just out of ordinary choonping inclination to create complication, he informed me ahead of this arrangment. anyway the guy was quite cute, i dragged him off to see coppelia with another girlfriend in tow, i enjoyed the ballet, he won his bet or whatever it was, the chap had his 5 hours of not unattractive female company, so everyone was better off for it. alas, i lamented. how nice when your friends were plotting and delivering men to you on platters. these days if you want a man you've got to go out and find one. blasted inconvenient.
our two hours passed in good fun. conversation ran from the difference between saki and thurber, sex and england, su-lin, the fullerton chocolate buffet, and whether translation should be faithful to the original or observe a sense of poetry (choonping's pet topic). this last got him going so passionately that he was late for his next appointment in yiochukang, so we take a bus to angmokio together to find him a bus. i'll see you again before i go back, i say. several times, he amended. before he goes back to army at anyrate. that would be in a few weeks, and after that nie, (poach and i were just saying last night that choonping will be a delightful terror in nie) and then servitude to moe. do you think they'll send me to a horrible school? he asked plaintively. of course, the horriblest possible, i consoled him. he boards his bus. i think we'll plan a dinner next week.