Wednesday, 11 July 2007- I saw you at the workshop yesterday

"The scratch is so bad aaa Freddy?" my friend frowned. "Ya laa...One, two, three, four, all have to knock and spray", Freddy said, still squatting by the car, his professional eyes measuring the defect. The heat from the tarmac in front of the Alfa Romeo showroom was burning my skin. "I'll start work today, come, let's go to the workshop at the back". So we went.

I sat under the shade while Freddy was explaining other things to my friend. I pitied her so much, but hit and run is very rampant in KL. "Shit happens", I thought quietly. I lit a cigarette, puffing away, enjoying the breeze that suddenly came out of nowhere.

I saw you walking the familiar I'm-so-excited walk towards me, wearing the familiar I-belong-here smile on your face. "You okay?", you asked, lighting your Marlboro Reds. "Yup, okay. Does he have the brake pad brand that you want?". "Yeah, he's changing it now, and I told him to work on some other things blah blah blah, the paddle blah blah blah, the throttle blah blah blah...".

I had no idea what you were talking about but I enjoyed the eagerness in your voice. So I listened anyway. I liked the look on your face when you talked about those things. Very serious, like those were the most important things in the world yet you looked very...contented.

I did that a lot didn't I? Followed you to the workshops, from the spotless ones with air-conditioned waiting room to the ones with smelly greasy floor and even to the ones under a big tree. I would have to wait for hours while you asked questions, engrossed in serious discussions with the mechanics, staring and sometimes working on the engines, crawling under the car together with the man you were paying to do it for you.

You would come and check on me from time to time and I would hand you a tissue to wipe the grease from your fingers and sometimes from your face. Sometimes I played with my handphone, sometimes I would read a book, but most of the time I just sat there looking at you from afar, "a little boy and his toy", I always found it amusing. I never complained. The workshops were your turf. I knew it all along. Whatever makes you happy, I always told myself.

"Our ride is here", my friend suddenly appeared in front of me. "What's wrong? What happened?", she was perplexed. "Nothing", I lifted my sunglasses and wiped the tears away. "I hate workshops", I said and we walked to the car. Yesterday, I promised myself never to enter any workshop again for a very long time.

(Photo borrowed from here)