Clementi, 9:00 AM on a Friday.
She, all of 20, wore a low necked pink top and searched furiously on her phone while having one leg strategically over the other that left nothing to imagination.
He was all of 25, wore a blue jean and was searching too, on his Iphone. Was he looking for a job ? I wouldn’t know.
‘Holy shit’, he said, ‘Starhub sucks’.
‘Bloody hell’, she said, ‘M1 sucks’.
Obvious. The train had entered a tunnel.
He got down, dialled a number and waited while she, in the train, answered her phone.
‘Hi, got an SMS just now. Couldn’t meet you in train’.
‘Oh ok, Thanks. I too got your SMS just now’.
‘Where are you now?’
‘In the train. Leaving Outram Park’.
‘OMG. I got down just now. What were you wearing?’
‘Oh Jeesus, I was sitting in front of you’
‘The blue jean boy? Holy shit, I saw you!’
‘Hi, able to hear me ? hellooo’ this network sucks,’ she exclaimed.
Or the lack of it, I thought.