“I don’t understand why you can’t get a girlfriend,” Craig said.
I looked up from my Word document. “What.”
“Yeah, it’s not like you’re butt-ugly or anything.”
“Thanks… I think.”
“No no no. I didn’t mean it that way. I meant—”
“Haha!” Diane chimed in. “No need to apologise. He is ugly. Maybe not butt-ugly, but regular-ugly.”
So I was at a local food stall with Jo, staring at my glass of water. Deja vu. I knew I’ve lived this moment before but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Finger? Rhymes with anger. Anger makes me want to punch things. Punch? Kickboxing. Thailand. Then I remembered.
I was in Thailand, staring at my glass of water. I looked at the pitcher where it was poured from. Every meal came with a complimentary serving of refillable water. I didn’t get sick drinking the same water for the past few days, so I wasn’t even bothered if it came from the toilet pipe.