Back to the Land of Smiles
My previous trip to Thailand commenced rather memorably. I arrived at the Suvarnabhumi Airport, and was in the queue for a taxi, with this huge luggage trolley. As a taxi arrived for the person in front of me, I pushed the trolley forward and obliviously ran it over the gargantuan feet of the English man. His face immediately flushed red as he tried to suppress the influx of profanities coming out of his mouth. “Mumm… fuck… gah!” I watched this spectacle, dumbstruck.
Still hopping around in pain, mad over the apparent desecration of his Hobbit-esque feet, it took him around five minutes before he finally succumbed to catharsis. He threw his luggage into the boot, presented me with a middle finger, and got into his taxi.
And I never got the chance to apologise.
Good times, good times.
Named Shafik, I am no more than a guy who only recently forayed into his twenties. Dramatic screams over acne breakouts and missing cans of hairspray are but things of the past, with the advent of my NS life. Due to my ineptitude in typing an encapsulation of myself in a short para, I'll just follow up with random phrases. Freelance designer, Singaporean, 21, cheese fries, the smell of paper, ice longan, swimming, hand sanitizers, donuts, staring contests, falling asleep without the intention to, adhesives, laughing at little kids when they fall, burning stuff, moderately-sharpened 3B pencils.