Meeting The Good Boy

He was hesitant.

‘I’m not familiar with this,’ he said when I asked him out.

‘Well, we’re just gonna meet and chat, that’s all,’ I said.

‘OK, well then...please keep in mind that I’m not good looking and I might bore you. So, when we do meet, and if you feel uncomfortable with me, and you feel like leaving, you can just leave, I’d understand,’

Wow. Candor.

‘Ok then, we’ll meet at 5 tomorrow’

We talked some more that night until it was 6 AM.

That morning I woke up at Wiza’s place, around 11 AM, sleep deprived.

I grabbed my phone and texted The Good Boy-‘So confirm ek, kita jumpa at 5?

I sat beside the window and my thoughts were of my ex who has again intruded my life the past few days, with sorry stories of his married life. I was puzzled on how he expects me to address his problems. Should I say everything’s going to be OK, and that he’ll make it through, or should I go by my subliminal reaction to him getting married to someone else and blurt out ‘You should’ve known better than to marry her’. In the end, I decided, ‘Why should I care?’ It has been a year and I should have known better than to stay around.

My phone beeped. The Good Boy’s text read –‘Why are you so determined to meet me today?

Sigh. Determined? Not the correct word.

‘Kan I dah cakap. For fun’, was my reply. Determined..yeah right..I’m bored la. Nothing to it really. Perasan la mamat ni.

I walked to the shower and thought about the people or rather, men, I’m going to see today. One will be at 2 and the other at 5. Should it not have been for Wiza’s constant nudge and persuasion; I wouldn’t have considered the 2PM date. ‘I will go’, I said, ‘but you would have to come with me, it’s your idea’. She agreed.

Both Wiza and I arrived that the first date on time. He was still not there. And when he came, I was impressed. He was a clean, pleasant looking guy. We talked about books, swing, relationships and other casual hu-has.

Everything was well in the first 20 minutes, and then the disastrous part happened-boredom kicked in. His ramblings philosophies on life became too deep a discussion.
I nodded and blurted ‘uhuh’ whenever he pauses. Wiza, whether out of guilt or boredom, pardoned herself in the middle of the mundane conversation, to the ladies’, much to my disagreement. And boy, did she take a long time at the ladies. I was left like a helpless wounded little bird, attending to a one sided conversation. I gave Wiza a big stare when she finally got out of the ladies, about 20 minutes later. 20 minutes!

The time was slowly ticking to 3.30PM. I felt like i was sinking deeper into me seat while the ‘date’ talks, and Wiza paying attention to him, laughing at his jokes, out of courtesy, maybe. I grabbed my phone to make a call. It was rude, I guess, but I just wanted to leave!

I rang the first number in my recent call list, The Good Boy.

‘Hello’, he answered after a few rings. Thank God.

‘Hey. So...It’s on right? At 5?’ I said, looking at the clock

‘Yeah. Nanti you nak bertolak, gimme a call’

‘Ok, I will. See ya’

‘See ya, bye’

As I hung up, I realized that the conversation between Wiza and the gentlemen has already ended, and all eyes were on me. Just when I thought my presence was of no importance to them, they proved otherwise.

‘So you’re hot stuff eh?’, he choked to break the silence. ‘Another date I suppose?’

‘No lah. I’m meeting a friend’.

The bland conversation continued, without my participation. As we run out of things to say, and time to say them, I excused myself, blaming time for not being on our side.

‘Should we have more time, we would have many more things to talk about, I’m sure’, I said, as an attempt to conceal the awkwardness we experienced throughout the so called ‘date’.

We finally shook hands and said goodbye. I pledged to myself that I will never ever go out with this guy ever again.

The time was slightly after 4PM. Both Wiza and I rushed to Putrajaya for the next ‘date’.


November 2007. It was 9 in the evening and I was enjoying my bath when I heard my phone rang in the next room.

‘Must be my brother in law, wanting to confirm my arrival time tomorrow’

I got out from the bath, and ran to answer. True enough, it was a call from Malaysia.

‘Hello!’

‘Hi’, was the voice on the other end.

Darn. Not my Brother in law.

‘Siapa ni?’ I asked, out of despise.

‘Tak kenal ke?’

What is wrong with Malay men?

‘La, cakap je lah siapa..’

‘It’s me’, he said. Another typical ‘Malay men’ answer. And that triggered my anger.

‘Siapa?!’

He blurted out ‘The Good Boy’.

I simmered and hung up. No one of importance! And how dare he spoil my bath!


‘Ko kenal dia kat mana?’ Wiza asked, maybe after realizing I was quiet for a while.

‘Friendster. Dia OK, tapi pelik sket. Aku pun tak tau kenapa aku nak jumpa dia’

‘Ala, buat kawan tak salah’

Kawan? I wasn’t sure we are anything near kawan. We have nothing in common. He was just a ‘distraction’, if not anything else. And distraction is what I needed. Nevermind if it’s good or bad, I need something to occupy my mind, to replace thoughts that were of my ex.

‘Yelah, buat kawan..’


‘You kerja mana?’, he asked

Oh no, the dreaded question.

‘Are you still a secretary somewhere?’

‘I was a secretary to a hospital GM. I already left the place’.

‘I see, so where are you working at now?’

I felt weird. This person on the line with me was somebody I don’t really find comfort in talking to. And that feeling is mutual. So what is he trying to do now? Bond? I don’t like this.

‘Somewhere in Ampang’

‘Where at? Jalan Ampang?’

Sigh.

‘Yeah, somewhere there...’

‘Hmm...Gleneagles? Great Eastern?’

‘Great Eastern’

‘You drive to work? What kind of car do you drive?’

This is not happening. How much was he paid to stalk me?

‘Kenapa? Nak tolong bayar instalment ke?’

And we had many more conversations like that, and I started to find pleasure in talking to him.


‘Hello’

‘Hey The Good Boy. I dah bertolak. So I guess you can bertolak now, too.’

‘I dah on the way dah’

‘Oh, ok. You bawak tak pisau?’

‘Hehe. Bawak..’

‘Ok la, nanti I dah sampai, I’ll call you’

‘Ok, bye’


‘How can I be sure that you do not hold any bad intentions against me?’

‘Yeah, you’re right. You can never be sure...so tell you what; I’ll bring a knife for you when we meet’

‘Oh no. you’re a serial raper and killer?’

‘Haha, that knife’s for you to use against me, when you find me acting funny. And...you can sit at the back seat of my car, if that’ll make you feel safer. I won’t mind’

‘Ok, that’s a done deal’


We reached Putrajaya somewhere around 5. The butterflies in my stomach are not fluttering, and I wondered why. Could be good, could be bad. Grabbed my phone, and dialled his number.

‘Hello’, he said.

‘Hey. I’m already here. Where you?’

‘Er, I’ll be there in 10 minutes’

‘Ok, well, bila you sampai, call me ok?’

Wiza was baffled on why she couldn’t join the ‘meeting’.

‘Dia pemalu sangat ke?’

‘Entahla Wiza. Dia kata ko tak leh join. Pemalu ke, kerek ke, antara dua tu lah’

‘Ala, aku dah kahwin la. Takkan nye aku nak ngorat dia’

‘Entah dia. Lain kali je la ek’

We strolled around and when my feet started to ache, he finally called.

‘Hi. I dah parking. I dah kat nak naik ni. You kat mana?’

‘Ok’, now the butterflies are kicking in. Damn it. I was doing so well before!

‘I kat depan Watson’s. I pakai baju hitam, skirt coklat. You cari lah perempuan paling geeeeeemuk kat depan Watson’s ni, and that’s me’

‘Haha. Ok’


A few minutes passed by and I become more agitated when he still hasn’t appeared.
Did he see me from afar and backed out? Am I THAT fat? That moron!

My phone rang.

‘You kat mana?’

‘Depan Watson’s ni, baju hitam’

‘Oh I see you’

He sees me? Omigod. It means it’s too late for me to run away? Tell me why am I doing this again?

I looked around and I saw this guy. He looked like The Good Boy.

From afar, I saw his lips saying ‘Ayu ek?’

I nodded.

He came to us.

‘Hi’ I said, shaking his hand. Lembut nye tangan. Biar betul mamat ni.

‘Hi’, he said. His eyes quickly moved to at Wiza.

‘This is my friend, Wiza. Wiza, this is The Good Boy’. They shook hands.

Seeing the slight resentment in his eyes, I quipped , ‘Wiza hantar I kat sini je and temankan I sampai you datang’

‘Oh ok’


So after I bid farewell to Wiza, I find myself in an awkward situation.

‘Er, where do you wanna go?’, I asked.

‘I don’t know. I’ve never been here before’

‘You dah makan?’

‘Dah. You nak makan ke?’

‘No lah, I pun baru lepas makan’

‘Ok, kita pergi minum then’


So we went to the cafe downstairs. We chatted about not too many things, that I remember. We went to his car after deciding that we wanted to stroll around and see Putrajaya at night.

‘Wow. Blue car’

‘Hehe, I washed it just because I wanted to see you today’

‘Nice to know. Should I sit at the front seat or back?’

‘Up to you’

‘Um, did you bring the knife?’

‘I didn’t’

I sat beside him in the car. We went for the stroll and went to see the bridge.

‘Pinjam selipar. My heels are killing me’, I said, tanpa segan silu.

‘Er, I have these very old pair of slippers. Hope you won’t mind’

He handed me these, indeed, very old slippers. They were ragged. Abused. His past relationship might have sucked a lot that he found consolation in savaging these slippers, I thought.

As if he read my mind, or he saw the frown on my face looking at them, he said ‘Sorry la..selipar ni dah 3 tahun I pakai, gi sembahyang and everywhere else’

‘Right, gi sembahyang Jumaat memang kene bawak selipar hodoh-hodoh cam ni. Orang nak curi pon tak sampai hati’


We went out of the car to the bridge. We talked about nothing of importance or interesting, I guess. He lit his cigarette and it started to drizzle instantaneously. Bad sign. We ran back to the car, this time, not knowing where to go.

It was already dark and I was already hungry.

‘Nak makan?’ he asked.

‘Nak. Kita makan kat Kajang je lah, since you dah nak hantar I sana’

‘Ok.’

So we sped off to Kajang. We ate at a mamak. We talked about many things, most of them I do not remember.

We talked about his ex, my exes, work, the other usual hu-has.

The time was a few minutes after midnight when we decided to call it a night. He sent me to his car and we said goodbye.


As I wanted to leave the place, I realized that I left my stuff in his car. Shit. I dialled him, frantic.
‘Hello, I left my stuff in your car’

‘What stuff?’

‘My bag of clothes. It’s at your backseat’

‘Oh..well..I’m already half way home. Can I give it to you some other time? Next time we meet?’
Next time we meet? There’ll be a next time? And when is that? Do I trust him enough to leave my bag of clothes, including my lingerie with him? Until I meet him like, next month? No!

‘Erm..no. I think you have to send it back here, now. I need it’

‘What? I can’t turn back now’

‘Please...I tunggu you jat tempat kita makan tadi’

‘Sigh. Ok lah’, and he hung up.

He arrived in about 15 minutes later, knocked on my car window and handed me the bag. My thanks was replied by silence.

With that, he left. On a bad note, must be.

It was January 20th, 2008, a Sunday. I could’ve done so many other things to while time away. But I decided to meet him.

And it was the best decision I made that year.