Today I will introduce you to the man who inspired me to pick up the pen and write again.
Let's call him Jack Bauer.
Jack and I met in unusual settings. It was a hot summer's day in May, and I had my hair down, and my shorts short. I was visiting my friend, Jude's mother who was in hospital with gout and was prepared to just zip in and out quickly, after passing her some orange carnations. Little did I expect to spend the rest of the day there, chatting with Jack.
He was in the bed opposite aunty Loe. I noticed him because he had a brightly colored quilt over him, unlike the sterile white of regular hospital beds; brought from home, I assumed. We caught eyes just before I disappeared behind the curtain to see aunty Loe, and I noticed the light brown of his irises and the sadness that exuded from them. Later, when I had said my pleasantries to aunty Loe and explained to her patiently why I was still not married and why I couldn't possibly consider her son because he was not only an alcoholic, but also had the intelligence of a canuto, our eyes met again, but this time, they creased into a warm, but tired smile. I smiled back, thinking to myself that he really should get a good sleep, and was just about to hurry off when he motioned to the Mac Book that was sitting on his lap. It was a strange situation by anyone's standards. What was he expecting form me? But I'm a curious person by nature, and a friendly one too, so I walked towards his bed and promptly plonked my ass down on the chair next to him.
To my amusement, he presented to me his Facebook page and then clicked on his friends list and proceeded to scroll to Jude's profile. What a small world I exclaimed, smiling brightly but thinking to myself - stalker! The conversation carried on from there and I found out that he was childhood friends with Jude. He asked if I was rushing off to anywhere, and I wasn't, so I sat and chatted with him. He asked me what I was doing, and I told him about my job as a lecturer, teaching culture and communications. I asked him what he was in for, and he told me about his week long gastritis brought about from working for the richest man in Singapore. He told me how young I looked for a lecturer, and I told him how silly he was for letting something as boring as work affect his health. He asked me if I would accompany him to the canteen for a drink, and I was caught by the kindness in his eyes. In the canteen, he asked me where my favourite city was, and I explained to him of the 2 years I spent flying to New York, almost every other month for work, and how I loved it, but knew I had to stop when I got sick of flying there alone and walking the streets of Brooklyn by myself. He told me of how he had been traveling since he was a teen, and spent most Christmases either in a plane or a foreign land. He spoke very gently to me, and looked at me softly, listening to my words carefully before responding. It was so nice being in his presence.
After I'd finished my drink, we walked to the elevator together and bade each other farewell.
And that was that. Jack Bauer, the man with the sad eyes and the kind spirit who was suffering from gastritis.
Let's call him Jack Bauer.
Jack and I met in unusual settings. It was a hot summer's day in May, and I had my hair down, and my shorts short. I was visiting my friend, Jude's mother who was in hospital with gout and was prepared to just zip in and out quickly, after passing her some orange carnations. Little did I expect to spend the rest of the day there, chatting with Jack.
He was in the bed opposite aunty Loe. I noticed him because he had a brightly colored quilt over him, unlike the sterile white of regular hospital beds; brought from home, I assumed. We caught eyes just before I disappeared behind the curtain to see aunty Loe, and I noticed the light brown of his irises and the sadness that exuded from them. Later, when I had said my pleasantries to aunty Loe and explained to her patiently why I was still not married and why I couldn't possibly consider her son because he was not only an alcoholic, but also had the intelligence of a canuto, our eyes met again, but this time, they creased into a warm, but tired smile. I smiled back, thinking to myself that he really should get a good sleep, and was just about to hurry off when he motioned to the Mac Book that was sitting on his lap. It was a strange situation by anyone's standards. What was he expecting form me? But I'm a curious person by nature, and a friendly one too, so I walked towards his bed and promptly plonked my ass down on the chair next to him.
To my amusement, he presented to me his Facebook page and then clicked on his friends list and proceeded to scroll to Jude's profile. What a small world I exclaimed, smiling brightly but thinking to myself - stalker! The conversation carried on from there and I found out that he was childhood friends with Jude. He asked if I was rushing off to anywhere, and I wasn't, so I sat and chatted with him. He asked me what I was doing, and I told him about my job as a lecturer, teaching culture and communications. I asked him what he was in for, and he told me about his week long gastritis brought about from working for the richest man in Singapore. He told me how young I looked for a lecturer, and I told him how silly he was for letting something as boring as work affect his health. He asked me if I would accompany him to the canteen for a drink, and I was caught by the kindness in his eyes. In the canteen, he asked me where my favourite city was, and I explained to him of the 2 years I spent flying to New York, almost every other month for work, and how I loved it, but knew I had to stop when I got sick of flying there alone and walking the streets of Brooklyn by myself. He told me of how he had been traveling since he was a teen, and spent most Christmases either in a plane or a foreign land. He spoke very gently to me, and looked at me softly, listening to my words carefully before responding. It was so nice being in his presence.
After I'd finished my drink, we walked to the elevator together and bade each other farewell.
And that was that. Jack Bauer, the man with the sad eyes and the kind spirit who was suffering from gastritis.
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