Raffles Place Grass

I remember growing up watching the business news featuring Raffles Place as the backdrop with throngs of office workers walking past. (I know they still show it on television, but childhood images were wired into our brains)

I wanted to be part of that crowd walking there, with the green green grass as the backdrop.

To me - and I believe for many others, the lovely green turfs were the holy grail of the corporate world. And I often thought to myself: "Wow, that’s where real adult people work! Bankers and businessmen - they work on the grass!"

So after graduation, I got my first real job offer (my office was located in Raffles Place). I never hesitated and signed the offer letter, very eager to start work. I wanted to be near to that green Raffles Place grass.

During my lunchtime on my first day, I asked my colleagues if they wanted to join me to visit the green grass area. They shot me a quizzing look.

You smoke?
- Er, no…why?
Only smokers go there.
-Oh.

So I mumbled some excuse and went alone to the legendary grass site.


It was sore sight. Yesterday’s TODAY was ripped and strewn over the grass like the remains of gazelle’s carcass. Cigarette butts are snubbed on the seat ledge and god knows what have been left over the years. I saw a retiree smearing his slimy snot onto the seat (I vow never to see on that spot anymore).

My memory of the grass images called out to me. I reached out and felt the grass. It felt dry and prickly, a rude comparison to the soft, velvety carpet grass caress that I had imagined.

In my disappointment, I noticed that the grass had a yellowish tinge.
The grass was not green anymore. Or maybe they were never green in the first place.

Office Boys

In the traditional sense, office boys are lowly-paid assistants, delivering the mail, running errands, distributing stationery, etc.

In some banks, they can be distinguished easily. They are clothed in grey shirts and they can be seen taking an occasional break or two reading newspaper, playing their PSPs, or daring each other to take down the hottest office chick.

But I have to say this narrow definition can actually be expanded to include lots of people - people stuck in the back office, immature men who pass leering comments and lewd jokes, and unambitious individuals who carry out mundane tasks every day.

In the past, 'office boys' were often just that: prepubescent boys of 14, 15 who worked in offices. I’ll say let’s welcome and embrace the new breed of 'office boys' from their twenties and beyond.

They are the backbone of the corporate work.
They clean shit that you leave.

Love your ride

Train rides have always been a horrible experience. Well honestly, things weren't that bad until the recent years, with the avalanche of foreign talent into our trains. The authorities have decided to make things more pleasant for us by having a catchy jingle to get the commuters to love their ride.

Alas, the infectiousness of the tune faded quickly. Losing its lustre faster than the next train could arrive. Light praises of creativity grew to mild irritation, turning into muttered cursing and eventually culminating into overt displays of annoyance, each time the tune was broadcasted within earshot.

The images plastered on the walls and doors don't make things better. Face it, the Dim sum Dollies aren't exactly the sweetest thing that Singapore has to offer and also send warped messages to locals and foreigners. So they are the infamous sarong party girls? Are they getai transvestites?

The only grim message that does get delivered - your day is going to turn unpleasant the moment you pass through these train doors. The Dim Sum Dollies are the harbingers of that wicked whiff that will hit your nose. The rancid sweat ordour from your construction worker and the rotten fish breath from that hot office lady (goodness, what she has been having!). So..Please, will someone let me out of here!

Merry Christmas

Tis’ the season to be jolly!

Festive cheer ringing through the office corridors

Christmas shopping for colleagues

To fill the bulging wishlists

Along with the year end reviews.

Dazzling décor and Christmas lights

Office ladies clad in santa party outfits

Gearing up for their magical sleigh rides.

Of creambuns and raisins

For those olobs that hang out at raffles place, I'm pretty sure that they have heard of the legendary cream buns that left many drooling at the mere mention of them. Imagine yourself pressing your lips against those soft buns, smearing your mouth with the oozing fillings and flicking your tongue at those supple raisins..

Its an unusual sight. adults gaping awkwardly in raffles place- office boys greedily sucking from those buns and girls going wild at the sight of the shop-frame.

Elevating food sex to a whole new level is this bakery which moved in early this year- Barcook bakery. My sources (office meimeis) inform me that the shop has some Japanese origins (everything seems to be of jap origins these days). Apparently, they have another outlet at central to cater to the cityhall olobs. The endless queue of hot OLs and their gushing reviews finally prompted me to give it a try..

Like a ninja warrior, I sneaked out during worktime and mingled with the rest of the raffles place snake-eaters. The queue was already forming up at around 10plus, encroaching into the adjacent stores. People were sweeping the shelves of buns by the dozens as though they were golden ingots at very attractive valuations. When it came to my turn.. The auntie asked me how many? I replied 2. The hot buns were swiftly placed on my palms.

They felt so right. I stood opposite the shop and ate them on the spot. It was so so but hearing office girls' ecstatic shrieks and watching them milk their expressions make the whole experience a lot better. Word of advice : have them while they're hot.

Play. Eat. Sleep

Play. Eat. Sleep

I was summoned to my first in camp training this week. I approached the date with the slight trepidation of a newly enlisted army recruit. Add the fact that I was assigned to a 'foreign' unit different from my active days. Much to my relief, my fears were unfounded.

My initial expectations of 'chiong sua-ing' exercises were replaced by intensive nua-ing sessions which will put a sloth to shame. My heavy duty exercises for the day include waking up for meals, changing into uniform and making the occasional trips to the toilets.

Eat sleep. Eat sleep. Eat sleep. Repeat cycle for 5 days. In the absence of work and studies, you get the perfect recipe for weight gain and stress-relief.

I'm not complaining though. Definitely looking forward to my next training.

Tattoo girls

There's something sexy about girls marking a tattoo and strutting down Raffles Place in those killer heels. Somewhere in the shallow subconscious of the male minds, it triggers a seductive call of unfettered sexual wantonness of the female.

This morning, I had the luck to chance upon one. An office lady in her twenties spotted along Upper Cross Street with a sexy feminine ankle tattoo.

The tattoo was a picture of a twisted vine, inked just right above her ankle, drawing attention to her legs and accentuating the delicacy of the ankle. Paired with her heels, it had a dramatic effect. Hypnotizing the surrounding office boys, making them trail her as if those vines on her ankles were leashes to our dog collars.

I guess the certain mystery behind the tattoo makes it alluring. What's the significance of the tattoo? It jump starts the questioning process of the male psyche.

Is she part of a gang?
Does she club?
Is she open?
Did she undergo a life changing experience?
Is it a fashion statement?
Does she love gardening?

Only she knows the answer. Perhaps the answer could be as simple as: Exhibitionism.