What a damn cheek! After so long among them and with this
enhanced deep tan to boot.
— You have grandchild arhh!?....
Slow on the up-take even though it be almost noon on the back clock. A bad night's sleep, no rhyme or reason. Perhaps wrestling on the cot with Era to no good purpose. Too tired after her twelve hour stint at the flower-stall, No meant no. Threats to call Immigration and have her hounded out of the country, de-barred from entry for a year or more failed to persuade.
Call the police then, and Immigration too. Angeli and I will starve. You can laugh. Go ahead.
Sorely tempted. Sorely.
In Era's purse a list of tech items requested from various people in Batam. ipads, iphones of such-and-such model, Blackberries; not inferior Samsungs. Earlier in the year a $400 purchase of a second-hand ipad in Arab Street here earned a tidy hundred profit over in Batam. In Sumatra, Era's place of birth, you could do even better. Numerous willing buyers keen to join the party. Biznis little, little; sikit, sikit.
What to do?...
.... grandchild?...
Slow on the up-take.
— Charlie.... Big smiles. Deep-roasted coffee colour, black dyed hair and moustache matching. The last application had omitted the eye-brows. Usually the men are much more thorough. Side-burns are pesky areas. For some reason the colour there falls away rapidly. Glasses half-way down the blower checking his Toto or 4D tickets like a number of others this Thursday morning—must have been a jackpot last night. (Gaming of any kind haram in Islam of course, strictly speaking.) Lord only knows when the chap gets any shut-eye. A fixture here at Labu Labi morning, noon and night. On the job most likely. Night security he may have said.
Charlie?... Ah, yes. Gotcha now my man. Hahahaha…. He had the name wrong was all.
— No, no, no, no. George. Yes. And yours not mine let me tell you. Yours and Mr. Lee Kwan Yew's.
Laughs. Something about his being a British subject. My very point dear man. Precisely. Possibly he meant the granddad Charlie. Possibly he was old enough to remember the earlier George and first-born Albert too. You tell them clearly "Australia" they know very well what that reduces to. No argument possible.
Again rumours here the old man, the local royal, is on his last legs. A long lead-time.
— You have grandchild arhh!?....
Slow on the up-take even though it be almost noon on the back clock. A bad night's sleep, no rhyme or reason. Perhaps wrestling on the cot with Era to no good purpose. Too tired after her twelve hour stint at the flower-stall, No meant no. Threats to call Immigration and have her hounded out of the country, de-barred from entry for a year or more failed to persuade.
Call the police then, and Immigration too. Angeli and I will starve. You can laugh. Go ahead.
Sorely tempted. Sorely.
In Era's purse a list of tech items requested from various people in Batam. ipads, iphones of such-and-such model, Blackberries; not inferior Samsungs. Earlier in the year a $400 purchase of a second-hand ipad in Arab Street here earned a tidy hundred profit over in Batam. In Sumatra, Era's place of birth, you could do even better. Numerous willing buyers keen to join the party. Biznis little, little; sikit, sikit.
What to do?...
.... grandchild?...
Slow on the up-take.
— Charlie.... Big smiles. Deep-roasted coffee colour, black dyed hair and moustache matching. The last application had omitted the eye-brows. Usually the men are much more thorough. Side-burns are pesky areas. For some reason the colour there falls away rapidly. Glasses half-way down the blower checking his Toto or 4D tickets like a number of others this Thursday morning—must have been a jackpot last night. (Gaming of any kind haram in Islam of course, strictly speaking.) Lord only knows when the chap gets any shut-eye. A fixture here at Labu Labi morning, noon and night. On the job most likely. Night security he may have said.
Charlie?... Ah, yes. Gotcha now my man. Hahahaha…. He had the name wrong was all.
— No, no, no, no. George. Yes. And yours not mine let me tell you. Yours and Mr. Lee Kwan Yew's.
Laughs. Something about his being a British subject. My very point dear man. Precisely. Possibly he meant the granddad Charlie. Possibly he was old enough to remember the earlier George and first-born Albert too. You tell them clearly "Australia" they know very well what that reduces to. No argument possible.
Again rumours here the old man, the local royal, is on his last legs. A long lead-time.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment