That’s Gottta Count For Something Right?

Among the countless great mysteries in life (why people insist upon noisily dragging their at when they walk being the least of these), the one that stumps me most is this whole business about running. Really, it’s the most absurd activity. The topic came out when my flatmate Saffy began dating Madison recently. “Wait a full minute,” Amanda had interrupted the first time Saffy brought up the subject. “His name is Madison? That is a man?

Saffy got the sophistication to look embarrassed. “I think he selects it himself. But I’ve got no choice! I can’t not date a man because he’s got a woman’s name just! “I’ve not been on a romantic date since Independence! I appeared up from my cereal and piped up. “Isn’t Madison the name of this mermaid in ‘Splash’? Saffy flipped around to check out me, her eyes narrowed into slits. I went back to focusing on my cereal. “Are you sure he’s straight?

“Oh, who understands these full times?” Saffy sighed. “The world has just turned ugly. Every guy I’ve dated this season has wanted to carry my handbag for me in public. And those who don’t love to play mah-jong using their aunties. That’s gottta count number for something right? ” she asked, with a pathetic plea in her eye.

” Amanda and I chimed loyally, though I secretly thought that anyone who voluntarily jogs has his own special group of mental problems, and by the appearance in Amanda’s eyes, I could tell she was considering the same thing. Things proceeded to go well for a couple of weeks. Madison and Saffy continued a few dates.

They went dancing at Zouk though Saffy arrived home complaining that everyone on the dance floor was a fetus and she experienced like she was 102-years old. ” she pronounced, her formidable bosom heaving with humiliation. One weekend, they visited his parents (“They reside in a pig-sty!” was Saffy’s horrified verdict) and went to midnight movies.

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They made out in the back chair of his car, ate supper at hawker centres and did all the usual things that dating couples do. And, a week ago, he finally popped the big question. ” Saffy said when I walked in the front door. ” I blasphemed as I took in the open look in her eyes.

“Madison asked me to visit jogging with him!” Saffy said in a rush, as if stating it quickly might help remove the full horror of the moment. I blinked many times and reached for the phone then. “I’ll be home in twenty minutes!” Amanda said crisply. She made it in eighteen. “What do you mean, he asked you to go jogging with him?

” she demanded immediately as she marched through leading door, pausing to toss off her Prada sling-backs barely. “Well,” Saffy miserably began. ” I firmly said. “Who does he think I am?” Saffy asked, a little soul creeping back into her position. “Do you know how to perform even? “Can’t remember the last time I walked faster than a crawl,” Saffy replied.

“But I was thinking that it can’t really be that bad, did it? I mean, lots of individuals do it every day. ” she trailed off. Amanda and I exchanged glances. “Well, I assume if you look at the dilemma,” I started, “it’s really not that bad. You men get on well really. “However now he wants her to visit jogging,” Amanda described. “And I don’t want to! Therefore, right now, they’re in the lounge room splitting up. I can hear them through the slim door. “I’m becoming a nun!” Saffy tells Madison.