I was having breakfast alone at the hotel cafe this morning when a man seated at the table next to mine started talking to me.
“Are you from Singapore?” he said.
I said yes, wondering if it was because I had 2 plates of food on my table – the breakfast counter was closing in 10 minutes and I had to grab everything i wanted instead of going for a 2nd helping.
He started asking me when I arrived in Korea, whether I flew by SQ, what I was here for. He told me he is a Singaporean too and he used to fly SQ but nowadays he flies in a private jet, and he’s in Korea with his pilot.
“Do you know how I guessed you are from Singapore?”
At this point I was thinking yeah, maybe because I had 2 plates of food on table at the same time – and only Singaporeans do that?
“I saw the time on your watch, and it was still in Singapore time, so I thought you must be either from Singapore or Hong Kong. But then you don’t dress like you’re from HK, so I thought you must be from Singapore.”
Anyway we had a brief chat about the weather, the restaurants around the hotel, my work and stress level.. He told me he is a retiree and have been flying around for business trips for the past 30 years. And then, he asked if I wanted to meet up for dinner or a drink tonight. He basically gave me his room number and asked me to give him a call when I get back from work.
I told him I’d be back really late, and fortunately he didn’t insist.
He left, and I continued with my breakfast.
I bumped into him again in the lift.
He said he went to the 3rd floor to check out the restaurants, though I wasn’t sure how/why he ended up on the 1st floor again.
“Which floor are you going to?” I asked, realizing that he was not going to the 3rd floor and there were no other lighted buttons except for that of the storey I am staying at.
“Oh, 18th floor. I forgot to press, too mesmerized talking to you.” he said, almost matter-of-factly.
I laughed my best WAHAHAHA-you-are-so-funny laugh.
“You are slim, you know. That’s good,” he continued the conversation.
“Oh thank you,” I didn’t really know what to say.
Thank Goodness I am staying on the 10th floor and not the 100th floor. We ended the conversation when the lift finally reached my storey.
“You are not just wearing this right? Do grab something warmer, the weather is cold,” he said.
“Oh yes I am, erm, going to.”
“You take care, keep safe,” he told me just before I walked out of the lift.
So, there, my 25-minute encounter with a complete stranger.
It’s pretty amusing.
Retiree with private jet.. and his pilot! Haha.
If only it was my Gu Jun Pyo talking to me about his private jet and his pilot. But I guess “cute / handsome” and “rich / bored” are mutually exclusive.
I told my colleagues about my interesting encounter.
“Didn’t he see the ring on your finger?” one of them asked.
“Yeah he probably saw it but thought he could buy you a much bigger one,” the other quipped.
This is the first time I got hit on by someone my dad’s age.
Ok, I need to stop pretending I’m 19.
In fact, I feel so grown up all of a sudden.
I never knew I could have such a long conversation with a stranger and actually not feel uncomfortable (except maybe for the 5 minutes in the lift) or the need to put up my WTF face.
There was the Jurong Point incident, where this ah neh guy of Indian nationality came up to me and said “‘I saw you walking around the mall so can I buy you a drink?”.
Well, I wasn’t sure then what the link between walking around the mall and buynig a drink was (and till today I am still not sure), so I gave him a WTF face and said no.
And then there was the Tanjong Pagar inciden, where this well-groomed guy came up to me and asked me, “Are you Serene?” and tried to convince me into sharing a cab with him. I basically gave him my signature look and ran away.
The Simpang Bedok incident was probably the worst, because this weird guy at the bus stop came up to me and asked “Can we be friends? Can give me your number?”. He asked about 5 times and I said no about 10 times. We took the same bus out to the MRT station and he asked again. I said NO, and he stormed off, hitting the his fist really hard against the railing as he walked down the escalator.
That really freaked me out.
The 3 incidents happened in chronological order, and the ages of the men in these incidents have been progressively older.
Today, I’ve found out that I am actually eligible for possible inheritance from sugar daddies.
I guess 28 is not just a number. Haha.
2 thoughts on “28”
hahahaha the Serene one is quite lame! and i agree about the older men thing. i had an incident with a really old Iranian guy two weeks ago, maybe i shall blog about it
hey gal – u sent me an sms tt’s blank, by accident…?? hee
anw the indian guy story i seem to hv read many times alrdy leh…hahaha