Sunday, March 16, 2008

To Sir with Love

Time I kneeled down to get knighted since for the first time today, I got to play knight errant. Not a common role for a gay man - though I'm not sure the damsel in distress felt like pinning her heart on my sleeve! Not that I'd have any use for it.

The damsel had reason enough to look a bit worried of course. After all I looked more like an admonitory warning for bird flu - holding an empty bird cage while hacking my lungs out. Certainly not the trustworthy guy in shining armour most girls dream of.

P3 Bentley
Here I come to save the day! And with my dawg too!

Still it gave me time for pause on the way to my brother's car ( a bit under the weather so I got him to drive ) when I spied a lady weeping piteously, her head resting between her knees on the kerb just after the pay machine. Seriously. What reason could there possibly be for a girl to cry in a basement carpark?

a) She's an intrepid heroine sort who just escaped from a crazed serial killer / obsessed admirer in P2 after viciously hacking the bugger ( and his lil dawg too! ) into grungy unrecognizable pieces.

b) She's heartbroken after being summarily dumped - with her bastard boyfriend driving away leaving her biting the dust literally. Possibly even stiffed her with the cheque.

c) She's distressed after losing her car in the dizzying parking maze - no doubt forgetting to commit the image to memory or to her cellphone gallery as Zany Zinedine frequently does.

Of course she could be some wicked unnatural spectre from the underworld but as far as I know, no one's gone missing in that particular basement as yet. And she looked perfectly human ( far from preternatural ) with her bad make-up streaking over her acne, her trashy mini picking up grime on the concrete floor.

Easy enough to walk by her - probably semi-accidentally smacking her head with my bulky purchases - but I decided to do my good deed for the year. My momma raised me right.

Paul : Excuse me, miss, are you alright?
Weeping Damsel : Huh? I'm o-o-o-kay.

Seems like crying in an abandoned basement all alone isn't a good sign of being thoroughly okay. Neither is sobbing out her okay in increasingly high-pitched wails. Of course anything had to be better than her first horrified squeal when psychotic me appeared menacingly from the looming darkness with my faintly glowing white birdcage.

Wes Bentley
The Creature from the Black Basement!

My bad, I'll admit. Fortunately she wasn't armed with mace.

So I left it at that and walked away. Other than summarily dragging her up from the floor, wrestling her up two floors and dumping her in security, I doubt I could have done more.

Hmmm.. then again maybe I was on candid camera.


Jason said...

Aiyer.... that sounds creepy.

Ben said...

Well at least you tried, that's all that matters.

Janvier said...

So potong stim. No heartbreaking story poured forth, no sad tales of lost parking tickets, of furniture she bought and left aside gone missing while she went to get her car...

Drink up your Nin Jiom!

Legolas said...

Nin Jiom is crappy, it never works.

nakedwriter said...

Why would a poor weeping madam pour forth a slew of roaring emotions to a stranger?

Next time sit next to her. Let her weirdly wonder what you're doing. Then, with an understanding hand on a shoulder, a whisper of hope, a breath of comfort, ask "Are you..." Pause. Watch her well-up with tears. Tug. Tug Tug. "Okay?"

She shakes her head. But doesn't speak. Your hand rubs a little more into it. Then, soft, melodious, gentle, harmless, earnestly understanding: "What's wrong?"

I bet you'll get your story, then.

daohui said...

just broke up maybe?

savante said...

Hardly. She looked far too tangible, jason.

True enough, ben.

No sad sob stories for you, janvier.

And Nin Jiom works lah, leggy.

Don't know if I could talk the weeping madam into pouring out her woes when i barely have any voice after coughing away, nakedwriter.

That's my first conclusion, daohui!