Musical Chairs

You never quite forget the partners you had in school.

And I've had more than a few. Never could stick to one partner for long. Turns out I had quite a scandalous reputation as the garrulous chatterbox back in the day so the harried form teachers had no choice but to switch me around every new semester amongst my classmates. Quite like the veritable class ho, I played musical chairs with the boys never quite sure which eligible bachelor I'd land up sitting right next to.

Oh yeah. Unlike the single seats clearly advocated in US television dramas, we are usually seated in pairs over here in Malaysia. So through the hands of fate and the malicious finger of the schoolmarm, that partner's the unfortunate fella you're inevitably linked to for at least a semester sharing lives, loves and endless piles of homework.

Not to mention the occasional rubber. And no, that's not sharing the occasional prophylactic - though I wouldn't have complained much! Isn't it peculiar that we call erasers here rubbers? Never quite gotten out of the habit.


Sharing a rubber?
Think of it as an unconsented marriage. Still, your partner's the guy you're stuck with for a semester so you either learn to live with it. Or kill each other after. Since I'm a peaceable fellow, I've usually gotten along with them despite the wild variations I've gotten in terms of partners - from tough curse-spewing ah-bengs to deliciously straightlaced mathlete hunks and everything else in between.

And curiously I got in contact with two memorable ones this week.

The ah-beng mentioned wasn't that much of a surprise since I've kept in touch with Bastard Beng for quite some time. What surprised everyone else in the class was the fact that we got along like a house on fire - me, the goody-two-shoes class monitor and Beng, the rough, spitting brawler who skipped classes monthly at a whim. Picking him out of the Chinese-speaking pool, no doubt the teacher was hoping that we'd find absolutely nothing in common!

Typical wannabe gangsta in school, Beng accidentally knocked up his long-time girlfriend right after school, did the honourable thing by getting married and settled down. Now occasionally he calls me up for a chat where we discuss his schoolgoing children and the secondhand cellphones he hocks.

And then there's hot mathlete Sexy Sanjeev - though he didn't think much of his sculpted looks back then. Hell, he was more involved with complex mathematical equations to even notice that I spent more than half the period gazing at his long-lashed brown, brown eyes.

Yes. That was how innocent I was back then. Doesn't mean I didn't glance occasionally at his tight ass ( with a blush! ) and wonder what his briefs would look like. On my bedroom floor.

Bet he'd be shocked if I told him that when I buzzed him today about a dental appointment. Wonder whether I could get him to drill anything else. Always something damned sexy about the dentists' chair.