i was due for a 805pm lesson on a monday night. as usual, i had my reporting slip printed before proceeding to the circuit. Tan K K walked up to car 53. still conversing with his colleague, he extended his arm and asked for my reporting slip. i handed it over, and thought he wasn't that much of a polite gentleman. the session started proper. i cranked the lever under the driver's seat and tested if my left leg could fully depress the clutch pedal at a comfortable position. (of late, i realise that i didn't need to go through this test - gauging the distance between the steering wheel and the belly button seemed to be a much faster and less tedious method). Tan K K's first sentence of the day went something like, "okay joey. english or chinese.?" i told him that i was fine with both languages. throughout the entire 1 hour 40 minute session, we conversed in a mix of both english and chinese. car 53 was waiting on the downward slope exiting bbdc's circuit when Tan K K started on his mission to etch a memory in my head. he asked, "joey not girl's name meh.?" i told him that it was a unisex name, secretly dialed joeyho's number, and asked for backup, in which he in turn gathered the swat team in less than 5 minutes and positioned all of them on the stop line at the gate of the circuit. okay no, Tan K K didn't believe me, turned on the lights in the car, switched it off, and, "bu shi la, ni shi nu de la." you know, i'm probably the only 18 year old in my whole circle of friends who's infamous for having the shortest of hair. surely Tan K K has old fogey vision. 

car 53 became first in the queue after waiting for quite some time, and while i was looking to turn left and out to the main road, Tan K K almost, in a scream, still holding on to my reporting slip, "ni shi Joey Teh ah. Zoe Tay la. zheng hui yu. ha ha ha ha ha ha." "mei you la." "shi la." "bu shi la." "shi la." and dno how many more times of that, until he finally gave up and showed some respect to the name. we were doing the usual rounds, in and out of the small lanes around the bukit gombak area. the only time he opened his mouth was, "turn left." or, "go straight," and at times, still not letting go of the fact that the pronunciation of my name has a splitting resemblance to that of zoe tay's, "joey teh ah zoe tay,". i think we did the usual rounds thrice, before he commented that i was quite a smooth driver. he started wandering into my private life, asked where i lived, which school i was studying, and so on. when i answered, "singapore polytechnic," i was met with an excited and instantaneous reply of, "bu hao de. i teach singapore poly and ngee ann poly students. ngee ann poly students prettier. singapore poly no pretty girls one hor.?" i giggled shyly. i told him i lived in signature park, and coincidentally, Tan K K used to stay in goodluck gardens, which is the apartment right behind mine. we switched our occupations and suddenly became property agents for a good 15 minutes, talking about how and why my parents moved from a landed property, to a 4 room apartment, then finally to a 3 room one, and discussed about the bad economy, so bad that my parents had to sell off our residence at a loss, and about how it is always a hassle to get ceiling leakages and all these little peripherals done leading to a high maintenance. all this while, i had forgotten that i was driving, and found myself concentrating even better than my previous driving sessions. my mind was at a healthy ease. 

the mind, like in a snap-back-to-reality instant, suddenly reminded me of my learner-driver status. i was all nervous and was fighting to have full concentration on the road once again. instead of the usual left turn i had to take to return to the circling of the usual course, Tan K K told me to continue driving straight. And so i did. we reached a pedestrian crossing, and i brought car 53 to a complete stop carefully, seeing that an indian lady was about to cross the road. Tan K K x Racism x Sarcasm - "your eyes not bad ah. if it's me i cannot see i drive past alr," i laughed like crazy, a very small percentage oweing to the content of the joke, but mostly because my instructor has this old and pervetic pedophile face, that whenever he talks, his thick lips move and shake dramatically. it's his lips la, and he likes to chew air, chew at nothing, so this repeated image of the dancing of his thick lips was the only thing that got me laughing throughout my driving lesson. 

unknowingly, we drove up to clementi interchange. we drove further up, till he instructed me to make a left turn down to clementi road. car 53 was at sunset way when Tan K K offered me a sweet. but because my both hands were occupied, holding on so tightly to the steering wheel because i figured my life relied on that circular thing, i told my instructor to wait till the next red traffic light. he let out a laughter, extended his right arm and at the same time, "bu yong jing de la. i help you drive first." gained grip on the steering wheel. i was stunned at first, and didn't let go of my steering wheel. his left hand criss crossed under his right armpit, and offered me that very important sweet that couldn't wait till the next stop light. slowly, i let go of right hand first, and then my left, picked up the sweet from his left palm, and immediately regained control of the steering wheel, the sweet cradled in between my palm and the steering wheel. Tan K K, still holding onto car 53's steering wheel, said, "you must open then can eat what,". nervous, scared, everything. i argued that the sweet could wait. but he kept on insisting that he would take control of the car. hastily, i let loose the steering wheel, unwrapped the sweet, stuffed it into my mouth, and threw the wrapper at the side compartment of the driver's door. i wasn't looking ahead and in front of the road for that 5 seconds i used to unwrap the sweet and put it in my mouth. crazy guy. 

we drove past ngee ann polytechnic, and i was a bit stunned when he told me to continue going straight up that bridge, instead of continuing on to that small slip road down to beauty world or bukit timah plaza. Tan K K said, "your house very near here right. just now we at singapore poly. now near your house. i let you try the feeling la, the feeling you drive from school then back to home. steady ah?" seriously steady. i laughed at this quite hard. car 53 went through the underground tunnel and proceeded onto hillview, bukit panjang, choa chu kang, then back to the gombak area. Tan K K said because i was a smooth driver, he allowed me to go on a mini road trip, and that i was the first driver to drive so far away from school. i wonder if he does this to every other smooth student-driver, and says the same thing in conclusion. we had 20 more minutes to go, so it was back to circling around the small roads in the gombak area, when Tan K K asked a question - "car no petrol can move anot.?" i replied no, and he, "of course can la, you push can move alr." i know, this joke shouldn't even warrant the slightest of smile to an 18 year old but it was his facial expression that made me go crazy in the car. he asked again, "car got petrol, got engine, got tyre, can move anot.?" i agreed, and replied a, "yes," only to met with his disagreement, "cannot la. you never drive, how can move.?" dots x7 million. and then, very randomly, he asked me, "farmer A sell cow. farmer B sell chicken. farmer C leh.?" i told him that i didn't know the answer to his question, but he told me to try and answer his question. so i answered, "duck", realising that it was one of the few possibilities a farmer can relate to. then he said, "wrong. medicine." i was bemused, and asked why. guess what he answered me.? "farmer C ma, pharmacy ah, guardian ah. your mother go guardian buy duck one ah.?" this one, the car almost exploded. i wanted to run ourselves into a tree and perish together. i think it's worth it to die with such a old but vibrant man like him. fuck the fake shit.

we were on our way back, when Tan K K suddenly asked, "oh yah i never ask you. what course you study in sp now.?" i told him that i was studying in architecture. he nodded and told me that i had a future (obviously oblivious to the fact that i am a repeat student), and shared with me that he was once an engineer. "the other time, i study engineer. mechanical engineer. now i am neer-engine (flip the words)." i gave him a confused look and, "huh.?" him. he explained, "the other time engineer la, you flip the words, neer-engine. you see now i sit beside you, i everyday very near the engine, so i neer-engine lo." that was it. i wanted to open the car door and run 14 rounds around singapore because this man was trying to drive me crazy. i think i could have ejaculated at his jokes. for once, i was quite disappointed that my driving had to so quickly. you know they have this tag stuck onto the dashboard at the passenger's seat that reads, "SMILE, GREET AND THANK YOU." i think it was my most earnest and sincere, "thank you," to him in a very very very long time. 

the following night, i was back at the driving centre again for another lesson, when i bumped into mr old Tan K K. i smiled and greeted him, and he told me, "you kena me la. i bring you go drive far far, johore also okay." fucking hell. if he was on auction for the Bid For a Grandfather, i'll gladly trade all my sc shit to bring him home. 

school has been very noisy, very facebook-y, and i must say, very immature-y. i am nowhere near enjoying school. the people there are a mix of individuals such as ben tan and terencejit. ben tan is when a classmate comes up to me and explains, "eh i'm going to quit smoking ah. that's why i never buy. can spare one stick.?" or, "i social only la... friend smoke i smoke lo. social only." while he spends half his time during studio hours begging people for a stick. the, "i'm going to quit, that's why never buy. can spare one stick.? cos i know if i buy, i confirm will finish that pack, which i don't want to," excuse is so intricately thought of and i must say it's quite a good excuse. but honestly, how do you want me to react.? "oh you quitting ah.? okay okay okay okay okay okay i help you quit. here's one stick. don't buy one packet ah, don't ah. i rather you take a stick from me than buy one pack each time you really need to smoke." do you think i'll give that kind of answer.? I DON'T GIVE A FUCK IF YOU WANT TO QUIT SMOKING. YOU CAN DIE OF A BADLY TARRED LUNG CANCER AND BLAME ME AFTERWARDS FOR NOT ADHERING TO YOUR, "gotta quit, can't buy a pack, spare one stick," LOGIC. terencejit will be the clan of attention seekers that talk so much and so publicly, it's hard to not get familiarised with their voices. one apt example would be the story of The ______ Butterfly. you fill in the blanks with whichever adjectives you want to, because that was exactly what he did. i was concentrating really hard on my work when suddenly, this guy popped up in front of me and went, "Hi, I'm the Butterfly." he started jumping and, "I'm the Jumping butterfly." he made a 360 degree turn and, "I'm the Spinning Butterfly." the best part was that he even went through the trouble of using cardboards that were supposed to be used to build our models to make a mask out of it. so this guy went around with his mask and repeated whatever i have just mentioned to almost everyone in the studio. his voice resounded throughout the studio as he repeated these actions to everybody, and it was getting a bit too irritating for my ears, when suddenly, there was silence. this very much-wanted silence. for a good 15 minutes, i managed to concentrate on my work. i thought he became tired and was back at his desk for a rest. suddenly, the same guy with the same mask reappeared in front of me and started his 'self-introduction' once again - "Hi, I'm the butterfly." he started jumping, "I'm the Jumping Butterfly," he started spinning gracefully, "I'm the Spinning Butterfly," at this moment, i caught sight of what seemed like a brown bag strapped onto his back. i told him to turn over, and immediately understood why our studio had the luxury of that 15 minutes of blissful silence. on his back was a meticulously cut-out cardboard shaped in a butterfly-wing form and strapped around his neck with the use of scotch tapes. i salute him. 

there's also this community of facebookers in my class who are more interested in their friend's results in different quizzes, and their what's-on-your-mind statuses. facebook is cool. i use facebook and i think it's an awesome interactive medium for friends. but can you please not use it during lesson time.? okay you can, but don't go around begging people to, "DO MY QUIZ LEHHHHHHH.!" and, "I TAG YOU THAT PHOTO OKIE." and, "EH I LEFT YOU A COMMENT, GO READ." and, "WAH I CRISTIANO RONALDO LEH.!!! OMG, I CRISTIANO RONALDO.!!" (if your fate and future can be calculated just by the answering of a few questions, we wouldn't need to go to schools or do a rock show on stage). 

come up to my studio one day. you should be amused by this note pasted around the walls, "TO ALL YEAR 1 COHORT STUDENTS: WE HAVE RECEIVED COMPLAINS OF THE STUDIO BEING TOO NOISY. AS SUCH, STUDENTS WILL BE FINED $1.00 EACH IF THEY ARE FOUND TALKING LOUDLY/SHOUTING/BLAHBLAH/BLAHBLAH. ALL REPS TO ENSURE THIS," oh and just for you info, my class rep is that jumping spinning butterfly i talked about. 

i haven't given any of my classmates my msn address, or any form of cyber identification. i think it's wise of me to not do so, after blasting them so publicly. hur hur hur. 

i cannot imagine myself stuck for 3 years in the middle of all these year 1 fucktards. WHY DID I CHOOSE TO SLACK LAST YEAR WHEN I HAD THE BEST OF CLASSMATES.?!! 

WAS SUPER DUPER GOOD TO MEET LHC EILEEN AND JH FOR DINNER LAST NIGHT WOOHOO SHOULD DO IT MORE OFTEN BABY.