Saturday, October 03, 2009

A Game You Just Can't Win

As far as as I could recall, it was not a very lovely day. It was raining heavily, and the downpour lasted for a few hours since dawn and still. The road was filled with ponds of water that made driving a less of an easy job like usual. The sky was gray, and sometimes lighting appeared from behind the clouds, flashing its presence to the unsuspecting onlookers. The road was clear except for some lorries that shoved through the wind and rain like bullet does to a stack of plywood.

I was behind the wheels making my way to the clubhouse in Clearwater Sanctuary Golf, the place where me and him had agreed to meet. It was only like fifteen minutes driving usually, but the rain made the journey somehow long due to the extra carefulness that I needed to take. Plus, my head was not at its right frequency - I happened to sleep late the night before and I woke up early in the cold morning and yet to have my fine cup of coffee. I peeked at the clock on the dashboard. The time showed 9.30am. Well at least I still have half an hour to spend.

The entrance to the golf club was like usual - there were two guards checking incoming and leaving cars. The one who was at the incoming gate recognized my car almost as instantly and he let me in with just a wave. I slowly made my way into the sanctuary area, close to more than a mile more down the road to reaching the clubhouse. The rain seemed to slow down a bit, and the way ahead was made clear for me to ride on. I pressed on the gas and went along the road surrounded by thick forest at each opposing side of the road.

I parked the at the terrace parking, and there were only three or four other cars parked next to next. Well understood - nobody plays golf in this weather. So probably these people were here only for the food or other indoor activities at the facility halls further more down the road. Or maybe just having shots at the driving range, shooting golf balls into the open lake. I made my way to the clubhouse in the rain and as soon as I got there, I checked in at the waiter stand for my table. With such pleasing manners she ushered me to the table next to the open terrace facing the garden, the Clubhouse Lake and the putting green and left to take the menu. I brushed on my shirt and looked around the empty hall, browsing through for some quick reviews of things that I might have missed. All tables but two excluding mine was occupied. There were one family at one table, and at the other was a couple.

So, where is this guy, I wonder?

* * *

The french omelet tasted never better, along with a plate of french toast and a cup of strong black coffee. It had me filled with joy for a moment, well at least for a moment, until I saw him walking in his well-ironed khaki pants, a blue Tommy Hilfiger shirt and a pair of white shoes. Bless my mom for having me well-taught on how to iron my apparels and bless me for taking her advice seriously, otherwise I would be affected by his presentable attire. There was something with this man that got me envied, somehow. But I know I shouldn't have been. I am a self-made man myself.

I rose from my seat and shook his hand over the table as he offered to, and I offered him a seat. The waitress from just now came over to clear the table.

"A macchiato, please," he said to the waitress as she inquired for order. It pronounces macchiato, tough guy, mah-key-ah-toe, not mah-chi-ah-toe. Fancy, I told to myself as I cleaned my lips with the serviette paper while at the same time having my eyes on him who, likewise, did the same too. I crumpled the serviette paper and prepared for whatever conversation that may take place anytime now, since the awkwardness level started to increase by the seconds now.

"Had your breakfast?" he asked me.

"Already," I replied. "You?"

"Already too."

The waitress came to serve the man with his mah-chee-ah-toe. He took a quick sip and he let out an 'aahh'. I took a cigarette out and lighted it up, filling my organic airway with nicotine-rich smoke before letting it out before my face.

"So," I said to him while slowly knocking the table with my lighter. "What is this all about?"

He smiled and took out a cigarette too. He lighted it up and puffed the smoke in and out. Then he looked at me with a serious face.

"How serious?"

"Huh?" Serious? How serious, what? Your face?

"You and her," he further asked before he tapped his cigarette ash into the ashtray, "how serious were you two involved?"

What is this? Some sort of interrogations? What, did I look like a convict?

"For some time, yes," I replied. "I didn't know that she has a boyfriend. She told me otherwise."

"Well now you know. Would it make a difference?"

I took a sip of my coffee and leaned back on the big cozy chair. The rain started to pour down again. I looked at the rain., gained some thoughts and got back to him.

"Yes," I said. "Entirely."

He smiled again, this time more annoyingly. I felt like throwing the table onto his face.

"What made you think that you could take care of her?"

My face turned red almost as instantly. You son of a .. He was underestimating me. I could see from his eyes that he was, the way he pinned his looks on me as if I was a helpless Woogie that roams the land without any hope to survive. In fact, he had been doing that since we last met at the McDonald. So you drove a BMW. So you practiced as a freaking doctor. So you belonged to a rich family. What credits did you have to make such statement, you bloody arrogant piece of overpriced pizza? I could feel the veins in my head popping out.

"Look," I said to him in controlled voice, my finger tapped the table hard, "I am an engineering graduate, and I soon to obtain my masters. PhD in three years. True, I am now just a student and you are the working kind. You have your scalpel, but don't you ever look down to those who designed your freaking scalpel in the first place, ever."

I was already as red as burning hot coal, and I didn't have the intention to stop. At least not yet.

"Within my field I am one of the expert, and like you we share the same values. One day I am going to be as successful as you are, even more successful. I will make millions while you're still making a dollar."

"So," I pointed my finger towards his face and continued, "don't FUCK with me."

For the first time in the history of our encounters I found him looking overly terrified. His face changed almost as immediately from as arrogant as one could be to such so frightened face. I stood up from my seat and took my phone and lighter before proceeding to the counter and left three red notes on it. The counter lady looked confused as I passed through.

I made my way back to the car in the rain. This was too much for me to handle. Rosy cheeks stopped messaging me since the second day of Eid, and now I had to handle this idiot, as if my burden was not massive enough. That was it. I have got to get the hell out of this mess. I unlocked and got into the car, turning on the ignition. I drove out the parking area, making my way out from the sanctuary area in anger. My heart was pounding like the pistons in the engine did, and blood rushed along my veins like toilet flush does. I could feel my ears getting warmer by the seconds. I've got to regulate these pistons in my chest before they go out of control, ruining the whole body system. I needed to calm down.

Not long before I reached the guard post, my phone rang out an incoming message tone.

"There is no way I m her bf. Me n her we share d same father."

My pistons went nuts.


Miasuraya said...

bengong. so that was the brother?

if yes, what a waste of emotions!

farishta said...

Aiyoh.. what a Bollywood melodrama lah. So RC has a bf but it's not Abang Man OR she's just jerking you around?


cik jaa said...

okeh,memang dah blh agak dari dulu -_-'' selamat berjaya lah =)