--- I ---

The taxi driver laughs at me.

I thought I'd be sure of the route to Wilfred's house, having taken the bus which took the opposite direction of the route we are now travelling. Apparently, my memory fails me when we reach the Hougang South area. I tell the driver, turn here - no, not here - wait, I think it's here - oh dear, I can't remember where -

So we drive and drive and then we end up - "Hey, isn't this Jalan Eunos?"

OMG WE OVERSHOT!

And the uncle has to make one big turn back.

I'll probably go by bus or train . . .

--- II ---

I wonder why this particular lady is so concerned about me hand-copying scores from a book rather than photocopying them.

Truthfully my Cash Card has insufficient amount to meet the demands of photocopying the amount of scores that I want. So the only thing that I may do is to copy the songs that I want, note for note, in my own hand.

So I sit at one of the long tables facing the great glass window at the Esplanade Library, writing away. This lady comes up to the seat adjacent to mine, carrying a stack of newspapers. As she settles herself down, she glances towards my side, as if this fellow here half-standing, half-sitting, copying frantically with a brown bag slung forever over his shoulder amidst a pile of scores. Then:

"Why don't you go and photocopy them?"

I stop copying, and look and her. "Well, I don't have enough money in my Cash Card."

"Surely you can top it up at the photocopying station?"

"I don't have an ATM card." The stupidity about Cash Cards is that you need another cashless device to top it up, and it's not an advantage for people like me who do not own ATM or NETS cards. "So I have to copy by hand."

"Wow . . . you have so much time?"

This is the final insult. So what is it if I want to copy the scores by hand myself? I've been doing this for the past few times when I've had little cash left in my card. Nobody has bothered me so far. And I don't need people to tell me that I'm wasting my time with this or that. If I'm wasting my time, then so be it.

Very smugly I reply her, "Well that's a better way to know the score . . ."

I guess that put her off considerably . . .