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Car, not the canine
11:01 AM
Car, not the canine

I am embarassed beyond belief. Mortified brightly red till my face is akin to a tomato. My name blackened, right up there among bimbo's who call their dad when they have a flat tire. (Wait, I would call my dad if I had a flat tyre, so scratch that last remark!) I have sounded and looked like a typical bimbotic girl who knew nuts about cars to the male species!

Scenario :
I was about to leave Tropicana for home with my cousin and brother when my mum's car just wouldn't start. After turning the key in the ignition several times exasperatedly, I muttered a few choice curses under my breath (got 2 kids present so I had to maintain my dignified and impeccable appearance, okay!) and called my mum for help. My mum suggested that I give the engine a break for a minute or so before trying again and that she would be on her way. Her final word of advice, "If there are any men in the carpark, ask them to help you."

My first thought was, "Damn if I'm going to have to ask any male how to start my car and get condescending looks from him." After several more unsuccessful attempts and watching 3 cars driven by men zoom pass me, I finally swallow my pride and decide to ask the next male I see for some help. At this point, I couldn't help but cross my fingers and hope that the next male would be a tall, dark and handsome one who coincidentally happens to drive a Ferrari. =p

Unfortunately, fate sent me a middle-aged father with 3 kids. I choke down my pride and walk over to ask for help. As I approach him, he gives me a funny "Why are you approaching me, do I know you and why are you stalking me look." Sigh. I politely ask for help and naturally, he couldn't refuse such a polite request. As we both approach the car, I get this really strong premonition that the car is going to utterly humiliate me by starting without a problem. I am tempted to quickly brush the guy off but it would be such an uncivilized thing to do. Gritting my teeth and crossing my fingers that I won't totally be embarassed, I hand over my keys and watch him slide the key into the ignition and start the car as though there wasn't a single problem with it! He gets out of the car and gives me this bemused + half-decently hidden condescending expression and I quickly thank him and stumble over my now feeble and bimbotic sounding claims that the car just wouldn't start earlier on.

So there you have it, Siew Yen's 10 minutes episode of exasperation and frustration which culminated into embarassment mixed with a sort of relief. Now I hope that I won't run into him and his family at the club or if I do, I shall just hide my face and quickly disappear somewhere and just hope that they don't recognise me.

Written on Sunday, April 15, 2007; 11:01 AM


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Siew Yen
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London
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