so i left my cheapo Swatch watch at his luxury apartment in Orchard. and oh, i bet that he could buy a Swatch watch for each child in a third world country with the amount his parents paid for that Orchard Road apartment. it's the second time i've been to his apartment and i realize that it is actually quite irritating. cos it has more security than Alcatraz and Changi combined. there are cameras and double doors and to add a classy touch to this luxury prison, Channel Newsasia playing at the 'gallery' lobby. i bet our HDB apartments will only have luxuries like these only in a decade's time. by then, i'll be 31 and i'll have lost my precious virginity and there's nothing more left to safeguard in my apartment. tragic.

i swear that when i went there, i had only the objective of collecting my watch in mind. and therefore up to his apartment i went, and like a gift-wrapped easter present, he was in his Raffles t-shirt and shorts. unknowingly, i got invited in for a chat while knowing that i should have quickly collected my watch and left ASAP if i didn't want to get my heart and mind played with again. chat became making out and making out became sex. which wasn't really sex. because it was a one-way road from this point on.

i assumed that he wanted to have sex because under the intention of turning off the lights, he also went to lock his bedroom door. and normally, when you have guests at your home, you don't lock your bedroom door unless you're intending to decapitate him in a satanic ritual or indulge in something more carnal like sex. i quickly assumed it was the latter, as evidenced by the fact that his room was so messy that he would spend more time packing stuff up rather than carving the flesh off my bones.

so we made out. and the irritating thing about our dear Raffles Boy was that he was so passive. for 15 mins, my tongue was doing so much cardio that it had run out of saliva to lubricate anything anywhere. and when i actually hinted to him that it was his turn, he gave the following answer:

'shall we go for lunch? i'm very tired'

do note that the scene now looks like this
- i'm already butt naked with a big erection down there
- he's half naked with a big erection down there
- there's Deathcab playing in the background on his itunes
- it's a lazy sunday afternoon
- we're both on a matteress with kiddy prints on it
- i've done tongue cardio for 15 mins already
- we haven't had an orgasm together since the time we met at the spa
- i'm fucking tired cos i only got home at 6 this morning and left at 9 plus again

and with that single sentence, he proceeded on to wash up while i was there looking like an idiot with a hard-on in my hands in an orchard road apartment. it sounds really chi-chi, but if you were in my shoes (or rather, in my feet, cos i have already taken off my clothes, what more shoes?), it would have been really frustrating.

but never mind, i played along with him cos i still had that small little crush on him lah. we had a really great chat before making out. i really enjoy talking to him. i think the only happiness is can draw out of it is that. and of course, not forgetting the fact that he paid for lunch (a very fattening and yet sinfully delicious jaffa pudding) with his plat'num card (no less!).

i felt a tad intimidated once more cos he went to Ermenegildo Zegna to collect a shirt he had purchased just yesterday. ah... the high life. and there i was, the only saving grace i had on was a pair of Polo Ralph jeans. everything else on me could only buy a button on his Zegna shirt. as much as i would have loved to purchase something from there, i didn't. and actually it would have been lame to submit to peer pressure.

and later on we went to Polo Ralph and he bought a white polo tee. i would have actually told him that it was a pirated version of the Giordan white polo tee. but that was before looking at the price tag. $129.00 for a fucking white polo tee. i'm guessing that it has a very high thread count and allows plenty of ventilation and people will ooooh at you for wearing pirated Giordano polo tees. $129 is a high price for a polo tee. yah! it's like only $12.90 at Giordano lor.

so we went our own seperate ways after lunch and his sideline purchases at Polo Ralph and Takashimaya. and as we bid our farewells and goodbyes, i couldn't help thinking that he was giving me a 'last look'. like that guy in Elizabethtown, i felt that i could tell when people are giving me 'last looks' too. and right at that point of time, i was looking at one.

at the end of the day, i was exhausted with all the mind games he was unintentionally playing on me. i went on retail therapy and felt a little bit better though. which actually brings to me think about this issue:

how come the perfect man always has a flaw of some sort even when my standards are already so low?


just when you thought you found the perfect guy, he turns around and shows you his elongated buckteeth. it's really frustrating. and i still haven't had sex with him proper yet. so for now, we currently keep in contact via msn and sgboy. and thus, if i have learnt anything from this entire escapade, it would have to be to not expect too much out of something good. it kinda ruins it.

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