There I was, my gym card in hand, waiting for the front office person to hand over my designated towels for my workout for the day. He turned around and looked at me (or rather, right through me, from the looks of it) very blankly, and asked:
I looked deep into his eyes and said:
“No, I’m just standing here to tell you that I love you and I want to have your babies.”
Cut back into real life –
I looked at him and nodded, gesturing to my gym card that clearly indicated my type of membership as a towel-deserving-dong-based-on-the-additional-26-ringgit-that-I-cough-out-per-month.
He gave me my towels and I thanked him with an extra sweet smile.
On the treadmill, I entertained myself with other options to answer his question of “Towels?”
- No – one plate of chicken rice, please
- No – I need a new gym card with Angelina Jolie’s picture on it to replace mine
- No – mee goreng mamak satu!
- I dont know – what can I get if I show you my membership card?
and more, but I stop here.