Gird Your Loins

The old gang in a close huddle three rows back, animated more than usual that afternoon. Some of these groups here even in their seventies fetched back to the schoolyard—or at least the urine stream behind the houses in the kampung, the stand-up pipe for the water and atap roofs. Back in that day the boys had been bunched closer and larking more loudly of course. Still, this tight knot was unusual at the Wadi tables, certainly for that cohort; even with their families these men did not sit so close. The initial greeting had issued from one of the more circumspect uncles. Almost invariably, in passing this man offered only the most minor acknowledgement, a nod that could easily be missed if you were not on your toes. There had been a thought that perhaps the chap possessed minimal English, though this proved incorrect. Certainly from him there had never been a hand raised so high. In that first flourish the sachet the chap held had not been particularly apparent. HOY!... A second call from the group indicated something was afoot here. In the few moments between the first greeting and the subsequent the foil had been passed to the tall, stout paterfamilias who always cut an impressive figure. Something like the aspect of a judge on the bench this man; politician or all-knowing editor. The man’s joviality regularly broke out from his inner fortress, unlike the case of the first man. Trousers belted high on his midriff, shirts and shoes unfailingly. The first was shirt and shoes too, but never before gleaming like this sitting beside the tall. The tall, owl-like uncle poker faced here lifted high the foil he held in his hand, brandishing the item. A ticket to elsewhere this in his possession, glory days of yore…. Narks who might be reading, relax, no need alarm. Take it easy boys, this was not that kinda foil. Some years ago Eagle Pills and Black Ant had been favoured by the chaps in that quarter at the bottom of Geylang Road. More recently Double Coconut, Superman and Candy B (not Bee) had become prominent. The latter was US patented pharma, rather than suspicious Thai whatnot. $70 from memory Candy for 2 – 3 capsules, coming with big wraps. Five or six hours were promised and no ill-effects; a number of confirmations delivered. (Some of the product was highly dangerous of course, the chaps well-knew.) Push comes to shove for this author, however, dear Reader, none of these concoctions will be sampled. Come the day one and only one might pass these lips. Hooligan by name, first cab off the rank and none other to be trialled. Jafaar the former chauffeur had bought H. recently online and was now awaiting his chance for testing. For many, creative and pro-creat. juices were immediately set pumping in the case of Hooligan merely by the branding.