Thursday, 31 July 2008 – I am at Marina Square, walking near the atrium en route to the MRT station.

‘Excuse me, excuse me.’

I stop and turn around and see this little middle-aged lady carrying two bags: a handbag as well a massive plastic one.

‘Excuse me, can you help me collect voucher?’

I feel I have been suddenly shaken up in the middle of the night. Straightforward as it seems, I’m still quite bewildered by the request.

‘Can you help me collect voucher?’ She points to the information counter not far away. ‘I already collect one, cannot collect anymore.’ She passes me some receipts.

‘Erm, okay…’ I’m a little on my guard because here’s a total stranger out of the blue asking me to collect something on her behalf with some slips of printed materials which I’ve not had the chance to scrutinise; neither do I feel appropriate to ask her so many questions in the manner Jack Skellington sings when he discovers Christmastown.

‘Erm, will you follow me to the counter?’ I hope to keep her in view until I pass to her the vouchers I’m supposed to collect.

‘I cannot go there, otherwise they’ll see me. They know I’ve collected already.’

‘Okay…’ I begin to make my way to the counter, still a little wary. The lady goes to wait in a nearby passageway on our left – one that leads to a door that goes out of the shopping mall to the smoking area and washrooms (yes, the entrance to some of the washrooms are located on the outside!)

I arrive at the counter. Thankfully there is no queue. I pass the receipts to the receptionist. I glance up and notice the lady leaning against the wall of the passageway.

Stamp! And the vouchers are laid on the counter. I pick them up, say my thanks, and brisk-walk over to the passage. Yes, she is still there. She collects the vouchers from me. ‘You want one?’ She offers me the extra voucher.

‘Erm, no thanks. You can keep them.’

With that she heads for the door, out of the shopping mall, vanishing as abruptly as she had first appeared.