the faces i met

the show was about to begin. everybody was swarming like bees to get the best seats, running aimlessly to the seats nearest to the action. we walked leisurely to a row of seats somewhere in the midst of it all. as we were just about to take our seats, we realise we were one seat short for the six of us. a caucasian gentleman (i use the term very loosely) was seated on the seventh chair, with his wife about to plant her behind on the sixth but for only reasons known to herself, or her booties, was still standing and looking around.

i enquired as sweetly as i could, 'do you mind moving one seat? there are six of us and we are one short'. something in that sentence triggered an explosion akin to the volcano at mount fuji, with hot bubbling lava spewing forth from that man's volcanic hole. 'oh my god! there must be like thousands of seats in this place!! you want us to move?!', the immediately-very-irritating man thundered at the top of his voice. apparently i had asked him to pack his belongings and move to alaska! technically, he was right. we can move a few rows back, but it's not like we were asking him to move the empire state building, we were just asking him to shift that butt of his a few inches. not that tall of a request, i didn't think. then again, i didn't check out the size of his behind.

loss for words and traumatised by that man's amplified reaction, i conveyed the beast man's response to the rest of my party. when i turned back round, the man had moved one seat down! go figure. you ask someone for a very casual request, and he spits in your face. then he spontaneously complies. if he was a woman, the words 'menopause' will be flashing in bright neon above his head by now. unfortunately he is a man, but i do get what that was all about. really, i do. i totally understand him, his grief and his pent-up frustration. he's not getting any from his wife tonight. sigh, you just got to sympathise with him. for the interest of studies on abnormal inconsistent behaviours, the man and his wife later changed seats to a few rows infront. he fought so hard, with his snarling tooth on the matter and his mouth drooling with rabid saliva, for something that he wasn't so sure he wanted.

as i sat in my seat, in the quietness of the night, i pondered over what i have just witnessed. to me, perhaps, the man's abusive reaction was not the frightening part. what was frightening was that the well-dressed caucasian man could very well have been a ceo of some mega corporation, or some hot-shot director of some company, someone that i could very well have rubbed shoulders with in the course of business. someone who would, to all appearance, have seemed like a perfect gentleman and i would have been equally charmed. until a simple situation ignites the pent-up frustration simmering underneath..

just imagine, the next time i ask someone for the time, i could very well have my head chopped off!