Part IPart II
I remember how I met her.
I was shopping for a bath robe for my mother at Robinson's and being a typical male, could not, for the life of me, find where they were. I looked around, found a staff member and asked for help. Goofy was how I sounded.
"Would you mind telling me where I can find the bath robes?"
Her delayed reply rather annoyed me. I was already cursing at the screaming kids, irritating Christmas jingles and mindless people that were foraging through the Christmas sales. Lucky for her, or me, she was rather good-looking. That helped things a little.
"Why don't I bring you to that department? Maybe I can help you select a suitable one. Is it for your wife?"
Now, I don't remember Singaporean sales staff being that helpful, nor personal. Before I could think of a suitable reply, I found myself following her to a section that I swore I browsed through moments ago. I guess being male makes you blind when buying bath robes.
"Well? Who is it for?" She asked again.
"Er... My mother." I replied.
"Her favourite colour?"
"Yellow."
When we (more like she) finally decided on which one to get, I proceeded to the cashier and paid for my purchase. She was still with me, like she was worried I wouldn't pay or something.
"Say, do you want to help me shop for something for my dad now?"
My dumbfounded look was a Kodak moment. I couldn't really find anything intelligent to say so I muttered, "Huh...?"
"I said, I need to get a present for my dad, and I'd like you to help me out. That's why I'm here. I don't work here."
I wanted to dig a hole and bury myself. And plant some cabbage while the soil is still soft. I don't know how long it took me, but when I finally found my voice,
"Then why did you...."
"Because you're cute!" She cut me off. It's like she anticipated my every move. Are men that predictable? "So are you gonna help me or what?"
I had never experienced the feeling of total elation coupled with extreme embarassment at the same time. My heart was beating double time and my stomach, triple. I looked at my feet. Damn! My shoes needed cleaning.
She slid her hand under my arm and started to head for the men's section. "Come on, relax, it's not that hard, my dad isn't really fussy."
After we selected a blue pinstripe Aldo Rossini business shirt size 15, and paid for it, I was feeling much more comfortable with her. She showed no hint of remembering my embarassment from moments before. Instead, by that time, I not only knew her father's shirt size, I also knew that he didn't like green, that his favourite food was fettuccine carbonara, that he called her roly-poly when he wanted to annoy her and that his golf handicap was 15. I was smitten by her through and through. So lively and spontaneous, open and uninhibited, charming and intelligent.
"I want to see you again." I said as we left the department store.
"Why?" I swore that sounded a little cold.
"Because I still have other presents to shop for, and I'll need your help again." Of course, that wasn't the reason.
She raised an eyebrow, and then smiled. It was then that I was taken. The pure, unadulterated smile that is her signature.
As we navigated through the Christmas crowd that evening, I could only sense all things beautiful, the Christmas carols lingering in the festive air, the smiles of little kids eating lollipops, and the joy in my heart that would only grow in time to come.
CP5700. What's that, amico?
Yup.