Cruising

After slipping into the seat opposite the tedious old Sri Lankan acquaintance of Zainuddin’s rattling fifteen plus minutes at the table. The last year and more the man had stopped only briefly, hesitantly, before moving on. There had been some sharpness one afternoon stating business, deadlines, a little peace and quiet required for crying out loud.... Poor blot had been abandoned by one of his daughters settled in Melbourne. Recently the second daughter had visited Perth without going over East to see the other. Flights were cheaper there Uncle; longer to Melbourne. Crossing a continent not easy... Some soothing administered nevertheless less—he wasn’t going to get too much of that in his mid-seventies now. With a retirement fund of $1.8k there had been expectation the children would add support.... Somehow the tongue bitten and the chap getting himself off. Only to be replaced almost immediately by a couple of Brits flouncing over, the woman singing a song on her approach. Impolite ignoring that, but golly gee! how much was a man supposed to bear! Sorry guys, canna offer you any cheer from the side here, no Whitey solidarity. Run all dry. Brexiters most likely. Thought they were getting themselves gone; but no, another tea after the prata whatnot. The dessert offering would have disappointed here. And now the Reprobate. Oh, no! Sidled up engaging them on his way to the end of the row and stringing us all together. Undone, nowhere to hide. The Wreck more or less assumed an acquaintance, if not family relationship. Your friends, the folk usually indicated. Blah blah blah. Blah blah blah. Advice sought how to spend the day before the cruise tomorrow, Norwegian such-and-such liner. They’d heard of a beach nearby, worth the venture was it? Otherwise they were stumped what to do in Singapore between times. Ah. My. Well.... Oh, the double-decker bus just like at home, cruising the city before the islands were cruised on the morrow. Maybe that would suit…. Where did one find it? Oh, the city centre anywhere, big red thing open on top, guide onboard. (Was there?) Or maybe the Uncles in the rickshaws going round the streets might be nice. Bit hot but.... Pleased with the Indian tea at Wadi they were. Ah. Well, then, another option was maybe Little India—if they hadn’t had their fill of that exotica back home. (Brexiters 101%. Guaranteed.) There were old colonial shophouses at Littl’ Ind. Teahouses. The 67 took you straight there. Perhaps that would do. Essex. The man was wondering about the real estate here. How did it compare to London? Chap was talking to a well-traveled fellow after all, wasn’t he? Pen and paper type. Panama looked genuine. Blah blah. Freehold. Condos. Taxes.... Afterward the Reprobate was given a lecture on the social strata; like the Hindu caste. Coiffure $250 at a pinch; nails ($140 say). The watch unlikely under one k. Had the bracelets, the rings and necklace been noted? Chap was dowdy Dweeb: drab tee, tartan knickerbockers; boating shoes under the table likely. Orchard Road had been on their radar. Plenty of big hair Madams there would put the lady at ease. The evident association with the Reprobate must have given pause, of course. The good English had not helped any, however the man tried to bend it. Rough and bedraggled, the turned-eye giving fright. What made you want to settle here?... Well, it was like this, Pop…. Woman couldn’t help admiring the panama. They would be in again in the morning, embarking later in the day. See you again, Reprobate being told their jalan jalan on the waters like that might be $30 - 40k left the man suitably gobsmacked. Were they royal family, then? wondered the Innocent, who had sung the anthems in younger days. And no sooner had they tootled along but another pair too a few years older out for brekkie after lying-in following the flight. Large group booking. The advertising must have been enticing. See a bit of the world while you can. Enjoy, you’ve worked hard for it. Reprobate went off to see where he had left his bag.