SJP sent a message yesterday to have dinner. I didn't want a grand night out so asked for meeting at Clementi. Regretted a little afterwards because of strange fear of revealing that I don't know the neighbourhood as well as I should, having lived there for 7 years; and the fear of eating in streaming sweat in rowdy, smoky food centres, making conversation even more contrived. Indellible impressions of contrived conversations remained ever since that dinner with BL beside the McDonalds, me wearing a ridiculous "I don't do mornings" Betty Boop shirt.
Ever since he contacted me I dreaded any news from SJP and hoped that he's already back in the States. (It turned out he'll fly directly to the Netherlands.) But there's an unnameable thrill also in meeting. Drama? Old time's sake? Secrecy? For sure it's a meeting I'll tell none, and my stomach is invariably upset by clandestinity, having had proper upbringing by mum. Was tortured for the whole day in deciding the proper amount of indifference to exercise towards him. Towards the end of my stay in the States, I strangely turned into the role of "the punisher" from the innocent, vulnerable little ET who used to know and believe SJP three years ago. The new role is highly energy-consuming and occasionally sickening and is the cause of the present confusion in attitude.
And so met him at the MRT and was once again reminded that his face is one that I'd never get used to. Talk had to turn into the SJP mode and I retorted as best as I could. He asked jokingly like how he speaks of everything else, why are you so angry? I couldn't tell him that I was panicking with every reply and that he has the uncanny ability to remind me of the past under the most honest, ugly lighting.
Was secretly pleased when we somehow walked away from the food centres in Clementi Town Central. Further relief came when he said two of his friends would join. But still frowned severely on him. He said, don't you like surprises? I said, I've had too many surprises. Was really thinking about that letter from SY which started with "Sometimes I wish you like surprises."
Walked through private estates and got to the meeting place. Two guys were sitting on the pavement wearing Bossini shirts of identical design. The taller one in orange and the other in blue-black. Because of SJP, and also because knowing new people who are close friends of an old friend(?) is always easier, I immediately felt immensely familiar with them. Was thankful for having been tired the entire day - it disabled the kind of expressive conversation on my part that I kick myself later for.
Blue-Black was wearing a pair of black-rimmed glasses of the Harry-Potter style, which made him look slightly boyish when he smiled wide. He talked in a deliberate fashion with a rhythm marked by slight nods, a much milder and less annoying version of the American grad student who showily dabbed his warts with liquid nitrogen for cure. Blue-black has a way of drawing a fresh breathe and saying "so um.." not to start, but to end a section of conversation, for people'd (at least I did) think he'd say something but he really doesn't continue, so silence follows.
The place we went to serves Mediterranean food. The chef-owner, who looked like an Indian (the deduction is because of his later proclamation of "we're all Asians". Unless he counts Asian minor that is) with Singaporean accent, came over to impress upon us of the certainty of a memorable evening. After the usual disparaging remarks about inauthenticity of food elsewhere (in Singapore), I asked for water without ice and was refused of it. The chef said in a gently oily voice, which I hate, We are an European restaurant. Here we only serve water after the first order of drinks. Fine. A detailed recommendation of beverages ensued. When he finally walked away, Blue-Black continued on quantum cryptography to Orange. Strangely JP didn't even try to talk to them. But the collective ambience of the restaurant, the foreignness, the seriousness of the owner is just the kind of thing they'd all make fun of. I, on the other hand, was restless with fatigue and hunger and extremely annoyed and stiffled by the strange smoky aroma and pretentiousness of the whole place. And I was constantly reminded of how weird the situation is, here I am, a dubious girl friend of SJP's having dinner in this unlikely place with two guys who actually enjoy JP's company. Blue-Black didn't show intentions of diverging from quantum crytography, so I forgive both for being extremely ill at ease and took out my Sebald to read. Was thankful for my presence not intruding on their activities. Then suddenly realised I no longer minded JP at this point and was glad and thankful for my guessing it right that his friends normalised the meeting. Guessed the trick to be comfortable with JP is to be like a guy. Of his kind. Well I guess I am of his kind but just need to push girlish sensitivities aside and the sun will shine. Tried to talk to JP about Sebald and apparently he knew about everything as always. However he was still unusually reticent.
Dinner went on and food was salty and not as fresh as what the chef promised. That aside things went on fine. Orange was kind and attentive minus some minor incoherent moments. Talked mainly of science, scientific organisations, professors. Both had been abroad, but two years in the army changed former excitements such as travelling into a faded backdrop. Then again, JP never showed an explorer's kind of enthusiasm for travelling. Blue-black was going to MIT and was justly glad about it.
Walked home in unexpected good spirits. Orange and JP walked the same way and suddenly grew reminiscent of the past. Hearing my voice ring out in the night in a deliberate, indulgent fashion didn't bring on usual sense of dread. JP and I parted on friendly notes but I'm still afraid of his emails of wrath. His bitterness might have waned in the tropical paradise. Still, can never be too prepared for those.
Ever since he contacted me I dreaded any news from SJP and hoped that he's already back in the States. (It turned out he'll fly directly to the Netherlands.) But there's an unnameable thrill also in meeting. Drama? Old time's sake? Secrecy? For sure it's a meeting I'll tell none, and my stomach is invariably upset by clandestinity, having had proper upbringing by mum. Was tortured for the whole day in deciding the proper amount of indifference to exercise towards him. Towards the end of my stay in the States, I strangely turned into the role of "the punisher" from the innocent, vulnerable little ET who used to know and believe SJP three years ago. The new role is highly energy-consuming and occasionally sickening and is the cause of the present confusion in attitude.
And so met him at the MRT and was once again reminded that his face is one that I'd never get used to. Talk had to turn into the SJP mode and I retorted as best as I could. He asked jokingly like how he speaks of everything else, why are you so angry? I couldn't tell him that I was panicking with every reply and that he has the uncanny ability to remind me of the past under the most honest, ugly lighting.
Was secretly pleased when we somehow walked away from the food centres in Clementi Town Central. Further relief came when he said two of his friends would join. But still frowned severely on him. He said, don't you like surprises? I said, I've had too many surprises. Was really thinking about that letter from SY which started with "Sometimes I wish you like surprises."
Walked through private estates and got to the meeting place. Two guys were sitting on the pavement wearing Bossini shirts of identical design. The taller one in orange and the other in blue-black. Because of SJP, and also because knowing new people who are close friends of an old friend(?) is always easier, I immediately felt immensely familiar with them. Was thankful for having been tired the entire day - it disabled the kind of expressive conversation on my part that I kick myself later for.
Blue-Black was wearing a pair of black-rimmed glasses of the Harry-Potter style, which made him look slightly boyish when he smiled wide. He talked in a deliberate fashion with a rhythm marked by slight nods, a much milder and less annoying version of the American grad student who showily dabbed his warts with liquid nitrogen for cure. Blue-black has a way of drawing a fresh breathe and saying "so um.." not to start, but to end a section of conversation, for people'd (at least I did) think he'd say something but he really doesn't continue, so silence follows.
The place we went to serves Mediterranean food. The chef-owner, who looked like an Indian (the deduction is because of his later proclamation of "we're all Asians". Unless he counts Asian minor that is) with Singaporean accent, came over to impress upon us of the certainty of a memorable evening. After the usual disparaging remarks about inauthenticity of food elsewhere (in Singapore), I asked for water without ice and was refused of it. The chef said in a gently oily voice, which I hate, We are an European restaurant. Here we only serve water after the first order of drinks. Fine. A detailed recommendation of beverages ensued. When he finally walked away, Blue-Black continued on quantum cryptography to Orange. Strangely JP didn't even try to talk to them. But the collective ambience of the restaurant, the foreignness, the seriousness of the owner is just the kind of thing they'd all make fun of. I, on the other hand, was restless with fatigue and hunger and extremely annoyed and stiffled by the strange smoky aroma and pretentiousness of the whole place. And I was constantly reminded of how weird the situation is, here I am, a dubious girl friend of SJP's having dinner in this unlikely place with two guys who actually enjoy JP's company. Blue-Black didn't show intentions of diverging from quantum crytography, so I forgive both for being extremely ill at ease and took out my Sebald to read. Was thankful for my presence not intruding on their activities. Then suddenly realised I no longer minded JP at this point and was glad and thankful for my guessing it right that his friends normalised the meeting. Guessed the trick to be comfortable with JP is to be like a guy. Of his kind. Well I guess I am of his kind but just need to push girlish sensitivities aside and the sun will shine. Tried to talk to JP about Sebald and apparently he knew about everything as always. However he was still unusually reticent.
Dinner went on and food was salty and not as fresh as what the chef promised. That aside things went on fine. Orange was kind and attentive minus some minor incoherent moments. Talked mainly of science, scientific organisations, professors. Both had been abroad, but two years in the army changed former excitements such as travelling into a faded backdrop. Then again, JP never showed an explorer's kind of enthusiasm for travelling. Blue-black was going to MIT and was justly glad about it.
Walked home in unexpected good spirits. Orange and JP walked the same way and suddenly grew reminiscent of the past. Hearing my voice ring out in the night in a deliberate, indulgent fashion didn't bring on usual sense of dread. JP and I parted on friendly notes but I'm still afraid of his emails of wrath. His bitterness might have waned in the tropical paradise. Still, can never be too prepared for those.
posted by Azzurra | 12:02 PM
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