To the BATMOBILE

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Dying for a drivers license

Despite displaying great displeasure against Singapore's poor criteria for taxi drivers barely a week ago, I am appalled to find out that my distinction in geography in the first semester was ill-merited. Or rather, general knowledge as a whole. (I won't go as far as to say street-knowledge).

One of my few problems is that I tend to oversleep on public transport. It's fine when you awake one stop away from you're intended destination. In my case, I've gotten used to waking up back at Shenton Way, an decent half-hour away from school at 8 o' clock when my iPod finally runs out of battery and I'm awaken to the sound of the bus driver attempting to warble a Jolin Tsai song (not unlike the mating cry of the hippotami). Wait, get this - I'm taking a school bus to school. I admit, tuning in to my heavy-metal System of a Down playlist in vain attempt to deafen myself to sleep does make me slightly ignorant of other youths trampling by in the tiny bus. But dear Bus Uncle, how hard is it to notice a 1.8m long corpse collapsed on the THIRD seat of your bus? Done it more than once too (second time being at Bras Pasah Kopitiam, when I found myself locked alone in the bus. After deciding that breaking a window with the fire hammer would be a touch too extreme, I proceeded to squeeze myself through the driver's hatch into the harsh world beyond - nearly killing an auntie with the wildly swinging door and startling her husband as a massive ACS student stumbles out of the bus like a newborn child, bawling expletives, adjusting his bed-hair and stalking off with intentions to kill).

The other being my clear lack of the public transport system - but give me a break... Who knew 36 goes to Changi Airport? Rushing out of my condominium, frantically spraying deodorant on myself and everything in a 6 foot vincinity, and scrambling across the road in vain attempt to get on a bus to Bedok MRT so I could make my way to Kembangan to meet my friends so we could proceed to the ACS guitar night (which gave me first-hand experience what a slow death felt like). Of all the 8 buses that service the area, only 1 doesn't go within a kilometre of Bedok Interchange - and that's the bus I took. Good old 36. It struck me odd only 2 minutes later as we entered the ECP and passed the Bedok turn in. After enduring 15 minutes of torturous SMSes (i.e. about 700 "Where are you"-related messages), I had to dodge several 747s to take a cab ($8) back.

The latter journey did have its enjoyable moments though. After the obscenely boring guitar performance (apart from the song I could clap along to), and having my knowledge of Bedok being thrown aside like a paper bag of vomit and trampled on by others who wanted to make me know that Bedok was their backyard (Fine! keep your bloody Bedok!), we managed to settle down long enough to have supper... a.k.a. watch me have supper. Passably enjoyable in the end (I may be slightly biased as she did join us. If you are reading it now, please be suitably satisfied that you looked stunning that night and even as I type this out with trembling fingers, my bladder's trying to betray my false confidence).

Fear not - if I do not end up stranded in Potong Pasir or Johor one day, or mistaken for a suicide bomber on the way to Changi due to my crazed eyes and that intense look many women have fallen for, I will seek to gain my drivers license ASAP. Even then, I suspect a minutes drive to Siglap Centre to get some naan and chicken tika would end up as a road trip to Kranji. Until that fateful day!

TO THE BATMOBILE

posted by butler at 8:16 pm
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