Four Floors of Whores

EXPERIMENT:
1.Take a polymer 10 dollars bill.
2.Put it close to your face. Heck, stuff it in your nostril.
3.Take a deep, deep breath.

Results may vary. However, results will show how bad my hands smell.

I mean, not now, but when I'm working.

Just in case you missed out anything, the crazy chinaboy is working at J.A.S.O.N.S Orchard. As a cashier. *ker-ching*

It is fun, really. The checkout department is really made up of a bunch of crazy people. Talk about us another time.

"Where?"

Orchard Towers.

No spelling mistake. Towers. One in front and another at the back. Jason's is located at the back tower. The front tower, just has a few tailors/money-changers, a few makan places, Cheers and 7-11.

That's in the morning. Maybe into the late afternoon.

At night, the sleaze appears. The lounges and pubs open for business, and who knows what goes on in the upper storeys. I don't think tourist guidebooks of Singapore call it four floors of whores for nothing.

Oh, and the transvestites.

I have a long history with them. Not that I am friends of theirs (it might only happen when Pluto boils away) , just the few "close encounters with the third kind".

I think it's appropriate. Male, female and the third kind.

1.Quite long ago,Suntec City. Han Ming nearly got his face bashed up with the heel of It *yuck*, when It thought that we were talking about Its, which we weren't.

2.Last Saturday, Jasons. Two of Its came over to my counter at the back of the store (that counter is the only one at the back, how do you think I can reject them? ' "Sorry, I'm allergic to you." '?). I avoid eye contact (I avoid contact of any sort with them.) but one of It went "pisspiss! She loves you!", pointing at her friend. Thoughts ran through my head. Its really hard to think when two of Its are right in front of you and the gross frangipani-like smell lingers in the air.

"Sorry, I'm working now," was my reply.

I know, being The Crazy Chinaboy you would expect me to shatter the delicate dignity of Its right? Come on, I dont want a whole bunch of sisters, or should I say brothers, to bash my face up with their heels (the face is already bad enough without the need of any physical attacks).

3.Admit it, I jumpd out of my seat at the office while I was counting my money yesterday night when the cashier at Guardian's came over to return her cash. She's quite tall and pretty, but being engrossed in the cash I did not notice the face, just the height. Hence, I thought she was It and what the heck was It doing in the office, when the Crazy Chinaboy was alone in it!

The psychological effects are greatly traumatic, and I am very careful when working nights. Don't worry about me.

Call me sexist, but its not exactly my fault.

(The writer of the above wishes to stress the fact that the above are only personal experiences and should not be taken seriously. Also, he wants all readers to not change their viewpoint of transvestites after reading the above entry as the transvestites the writer is commenting on are different in the sense that they have jobs that females only have nightmares of. In any case, if anybody feels insulted or hurt psychologically, the writer gives his deepest apologies.)