5, 4, 3, 2, 1, CUE
The minute you are past 12 noon or past 12 midnight, you can kiss goodbye to your hopes of hopping into a cab. Try calling for one on a rainy day, you could be glued to your cell for minutes on end, with messages reminding you not to hang up.
Yesterday, was a sunny day, still my attempts of calling for a cab came to a head. With much reluctance, I decided to get on to a bus. Don't get me wrong, the bus service here is more than perfect. But after having spent a good 10 hours at work, having stumbled out of bed at 2am, walking to a bus stop, changing two buses and doing the uphill walk to get to my apartment that lives up to its billing 'The Hillside' - is always the last thing on my mind.
Oh well, it was one of those days. I would have been unhappy, had it not been for the copy of Muhammad Cohen's Hong Kong on Air that came my way thanks to Pete Spurrier of Blacksmith Books.
My 15 minute bus ride was soon transformed. Autocue, studio crew, harassed producer, prima donna anchor, under-dressed starlet, gosh, the life I imagined I'd barely stepped out of was leaping out of these pages. Autocue, panel, charts, crosses, everything was so alive that I barely noticed I was past my bus stop. The next time I looked up Bus No 157 had come to a halt at the interchange.
Gosh! this couldn't be happening!
It was cab time again with the American-born Chinese egomaniac Deng Jiang Mao. Having spent close to 10 years in both print and TV, I know I should count my blessings, I haven't had the misfortune of dealing with a real life avataar of Deng Jiang Mao, though I know that halo that only excessive airtime lends to mortal folks. Rest assured, I won't be getting on a bus to see how the rest of the tale unfolds.
Once again, full marks to Sharon Bakar for having spotted another literary talent. Take a bow, Sharon.