*too much time at hands today, long entry, deal with it*

I’m sure everyone has done something stupid as a kid before. For me, lots of them. And most of the time, it was because of external influences, a partner in crime. I always have a partner in crime. I’ve NEVER actually done dumb things by myself… well, except for that incident with the nasty dog when I was 6, but that’s a story for another day.

Like I’ve said many times before, I wasn’t a very popular boy at school. I was too rotten to have much friends. I’ve got only a handful of them… and one of them was PukeMachine, who used to hold the title of ‘my best friend evarrrr’ (hell, we’ve even sworn in as brothers before, no shit… one of the many stupid things I’ve regretted later in my life).

Now this PukeMachine, he was sort of a palooka when he was a kid (that explains why he hangs out with me). His intelligence level always lag 2 years behind, and that kinda made him a really bad choice of a partner in crime. No, a bad choice for ANYTHING. His sheer stupidity had gotten us into a lot of trouble, again and again. Any normal kid would have ditched him as a buddy and cast him into oblivion. But I didn’t. Don’t know why and don’t ask. (Ok, maybe I was abnormal)

One of the most bitter memory that had etched into my memory was the underwear incident. Now, this may sound a little obscene to some of you here, but trust me, it’s not what you think.

I was only 8 at that time and was fascinated over anything. Robots, bicycles, dead rats, deat cats, just anything I saw on the street. One day, while I was ambling to school along a corridor at my residential apartment, I came across a discarded underwear. Not really sure if it’s discarded or blown off from somebody’s balcony, but it’s lying right in the middle of my path. A white, female underwear… with frills. From my height, I can also see that it’s made of those netting material which makes it semi transparent or something. That’s how it piqued my 8 year old brain - as I’ve never seen anything like that before… And I did what no one would ever thought of doing. I picked it up, and stuffed it in my schoolbag, and made it all the way to school, apparently can’t wait to show it to my fellow classmates about that phenomenal find.

I first showed it to PukeMachine, of course, being my best friend and all, and he too, got as excited as myself. And then, we passed that piece of garment around the class… and it went ahead with it’s magical appeal - startling every 8 year old farts that happens to lay their gaze on it. I don’t personally quite remember what really happened after that, and it ended up at someone’s possession. I forgot all about it after that… until the next day when I receive a phone call from PukeMachine’s mom, at my house phone, and it wasn’t a friendly call.

Apparently, PukeMachine took that pair of soiled underwear home and showed it to his mom. I don’t know why he did that, but I reckoned he must have thought that his mom was as easily amused as an 8 year old too. And as if that’s not bad enough, somewhere during the whippings and slappings, PukeMachine told her that it was me who gave him the underwear… along with my name, he conveniently gave my phone number for her to counter-verify…

It was a very embarassing situation for me of course. Imagine your best friend’s mom calls up to harangue you on the phone, castigating you for influencing her son to be a sex maniac and such. I was like, fuming pissed, imagining PukeMachine cowering behind his apeshit mom, all the while wondering why was I made to pay for his idiotic act…

Come to think of it, the situation could have been worse, if PukeMachine’s mom decide to go to the school authorities, or complain to my mom. I was thankful enough that she didn’t do any of those (maybe she refrained because it’ll only make her son look like a total dolt). All I got was a tirade of angry speeches on the phone and a bad reputation to go with it.

That’s how PukeMachine’s mom got to know me, the boy who taught her son bad stuffs - Michael.

*****

A couple weeks ago, I called up PukeMachine’s cellphone to ask if he’s available to receive the full moon curry chicken treat for my daughter’s full moon celebration. Guess what? His mom answered.

Me : “Errr hi aunty, PukeMachine around?”

PM’s mom : “He has gone to Singapore for a couple weeks. Can you call him on his Singapore cellphone?”

Me : “Oh I don’t have his number. But it’s ok, it’s not important…”

PM’s mom : “I can give you his number… wait…”

Me : “Oh ok ok… thanks”

PM’s mom : “The number is XXXXXXX. It’s his cellphone”

Me : “Thanks aunty, appreciate it”

PM’s mom : “May I know who’s calling?”

Me : “Tell him Michael called”

PM’s mom : “Oh it’s you Michael. How have you been? Married?”

She remembers me. After all these years. Unbelievable.

I told her that I got married many years ago and she sent me a belated congratulations… Man, the situation couldn’t have been kookier. I was so darn worried that she might ask me about that underwear incident. I know the memory is tucked deep somewhere inside her thoughts, about the time when her son nearly became a sex maniac because of me. All it takes is just an irrational urge and an inquisitive drive to ask - “Why did you do it Michael? Why? Why didn’t you keep it for yourself?”

The answer is = I was an 8 year old moron. I needed no justification for everything I did.