Sunday, May 13, 2007

Episode 416

I love Mondays. It's great waking up to a brand new week when your alarm clock goes off bright and early at 6:30am. You jump right out of bed, hit the shower, brush your teeth, get into crisp and clean office wear and head out. You pack yourself into a train full of half-awake (yes, my glass is half full, because it's Monday!) passengers and you wonder what is it with this people? People, it's Monday, don't you miss your work?! Where's the energy?! Where's the fuck-me-I'm-yours attitude!?

I wave exuberantly at the visibility shocked auntie on my way out, yelling "Love your Bonia bag, auntie! Vuitton will be pissed with a rip-off but who cares!?" I made her day, man.

And as I arrive at the office - everyone was in full swing:

(Click to play. If you can't play it, click here)

Leading the pack in the "I-Love-Mondays" Dance routine was none other than Itchy-C, the incredibly horny auntie who couldn't keep her hands and her pussy to herself. "Gavin!" She screamed! "Welcome to work! Blow me! Blow me!" I let out a blood-curling scream before Christina overran me and attempted to yank off my pants.

That was when I woke up, breaking out cold sweat. I couldn't decide which was worse - Mondays or having Itchy-C yanking off my pants.

And in the real world I was late for work. I showered, brushed up and jumped into my clothes. Packed myself into a train full of half-dead pessengers and we were all on the same destination: hell.

Of course Mondays would be more tolerable if everyone had something to look forward to. For me, it's nothing to do with work but what happens after that - I put on a pair of runners and hit the road. It was a great stress-reliever for me, and at the end of a 10km run, a sense of accomplishment overwhelms. I forget about the freaks I had to deal with at work.

And the story takes place right in the middle of the run - I had the tendancy (well maybe most gay men too) to take a quick look at the other runner who comes in the opposite direction. And today, our eyes met very briefly - it was pretty dark and I wasn't sure if was him, but it sure looked a lot like Sergeant Charles from my basic militray training (boot camp for recruits for the uninitiated). And before I knew it, our paths crossed and he was gone.

**********************************

Sergeant Charles was my platoon sergeant when I was enlisted in the army many, many, many, many, years ago (come and think of it, it was the last century). He was from the JC batch, and I, from poly. So we were of the same age, both 20, but by the time I entered the army as a chao recruit, he was already an instructor and a lao jiao ("seasoned-bird") at BMTC Camp III.

Those were the days before the army gave the camps in Pulau Tekong an extreme makeover; Camp III was like any other uninspiring army barracks. The accomodation block was in the shape of a huge inverted "L", and consists of 6 floors. On the other side of the parade square was the cookhouse with a canteen on the second floor. No one has heard of commercialization yet, so back then the cooks were still Gods.

My first encounter with Sergeant Charles was anything but pleasant. We were packed off like cattle from CMPB, took a long bus ride to Hendon Camp, had the worst lunch in the whole damn world, and shipped off like slaves on a RPL, kind of like the ones you see on The Awakening. Funny how all reservists would now all sing in harmony when someone starts humming the all-too-familiar tune "Ahhh... ahhh ahhh ahhh, ahhh ahhh ahhh, ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhhhhhh...." That of course, was the theme song of The Awakening. Ask them to sing Stand Up for Singapore and they rather drop dead.

Then again, I disgress. Sergeant Charles was about my height, extremely tanned and had the "you-fucking-recruits-just-killed-my-whole-family" face. It wasn't until sometime later that we realize that he was just trying to play up the drama. He was just standing quietly at the corner while the new fresh batch of recruits were moving their ali-baba bags off the 3-tonner, and I remember everyone was sweating buckets because of the darn Tekong weather. The obese recruits, who were here 2 months ahead of us, were looking over the corridors while giving us all sorts of names.

Then he just yelled at everyone to fall in. Of course, recruits being recruits, no one had the slightest idea what to do, so more yelling followed and very soon we were all in our civvies doing push-ups under the glaring hot sun. That was the second most unglam day of my life (the first being the day when my wallet fell into the toilet bowl - with crap in it).

But like most guys, Sergeant Charles gradually warmed up. There was one night where we were all by the parade square cleaning our 'wives' - M16s as you've guessed it. I think I wasn't able to fix that tiny piece of metal s*** into some hole (yes, I've forgotten all my terms) and so I approached Sergeant Charles for help.

He was just sitting on a field chair, wearing a singlet and slacks/boots, looking rather unkempt. He was obviously bored sitting in front of bunch of newbies cleaning their weapons, I bet he rather in bunk watching TV. But as he took over my problematic M16 and he started scrutinizing, it just dawned upon me that Sergeant Charles is actually quite a looker.

You know that look when guys have when they're focusing intensely on something - be it when they're concentrating on a soccer match or about to cum. That look is surprisingly gratifying. Sergeant Charles had that look on him. Complete with the old oversized singlet, he was showing off his nicely toned arms and chest, I figured that he must have a yummy 6-pac, and I must have continued staring at his nice body until I forgot I was standing infront of 40 others.

"Ok, done, nah!" He handled the weapon back to me. "Oh wow, thank you sergeant." Problem solved, and I was really thankful. Then he flashed a toothy smile at me. The very goofy, almost kiddy smile and a dimple appeared on one of this cheeks. "No problem" was all he said. He had a slightly crooked smile, but all the more it makes him more pleasing to the eye.

That night I was trying to shake off the thoughts of Sergeant Charles smiling at me while drifting to sleep. I think I must have had my first army crush.

(to be continued)