The 20 year old

Once upon a time, I sold my soul for $13 bucks a pop.

I was blonde. I was legit. I was mildly attractive. and a cigarette company, eager to inject life into their corporate social responsibility program decided to embark on a smoker’s-only survey to better understand their market standing (read: corporate bullshit to cover up the leakage of e-coli into the tobacco).

They were paying $13 per complete survey.

So I, a “social smoker” (as one calls herself when she is 21) took on a socially responsible call of duty to find smokers. (social, political and emotional ones alike) and take up 45 minutes of their endangered time on earth to raise me funds to aid my world domination.

I took the job so seriously, I took it to MAMBO night at Zouk.

I’m going to write the rest of my story in prose.

Because I can.

So there I was in Phuture, another hunter to a prey,

hanging around, doing my thing, planning my play.

When from the corner of my eye a b-boy made my day,

But from the other corner, my ear heard someone say…

He said “I think… you look great”

I said “Thanks!” *gyrate gyrate*

He said “I don’t mean nothing, I just wanted to say

That you look great. No sweat, hey.”

I turned around to smile at him, and look at him sashay

He kept still and smiled back, I decided he’s barely twen-tay

I said “How old are you?”

He said “Are you judging me too?”

I said “I’m too old for you”

He said “Not if you’re still in school”

I said “okok. My bad. you’re cool”

He said “what’s your name? gimme a clue.”

I said “Do you smoke? Tell me you do!!!”

He laughed and said “weird criteria have you”

Why am I writing in prose you ask?

Because the poet in me just must

And also because a girl of class

Like me, can’t let her talents rust.

This guy I speak of, was a interesting mix alas.

He was young, and messed up, and a body full of lust.

And to him, I was older and cooler, and “sikit atas”.

We laughed and spoke, and I refilled his glass.

For $13 bucks, I figured, I can be nicer to the lower class.

We exchanged numbers and parted ways.

He promised he’d do my cigarette survey

I told him it’s not an option, it’s a must, okay,

I did not try to play it cool, I just called him the next day.

Having dated guys of father-age,

this young boy was a refreshing change.

For starters, all the things he said young and dumb,

and so laced with pre-cum.

Most of it was pre-meditated and carefully calculated

to impress an older woman as the guidebook has indicated.

Some incriminating statements he made about getting wasted,

About life and crime and getting de-flowered,

It got me thinking this boy needs to be cancelled,

But anything that makes me $13 bucks should be worth the effort.

“My dream is to live on the beach” he said, “just by the shore”

When a guy says this, he is under 24.

“Age is just a number” he offered for free,

When a guy says this, he is under 23.

“I don’t hang out with people my age” he mentioned too

When a guy says this, he is under 22.

“I book out this Saturday;

shall we do your cigarette survey?”

When a guy says this, he is under 21.

Oh My God, what have I done?

Even then, the words just flowed. I was stoked.

For once, there was no talk of “what are you wearing”,

“Have you got a lesbian friend”, or “Fancy some cuming?”

Instead, we had one of the best tele-conversations of my life

About teenage pangs, football fallacies, and campus strife.

We spoke about him being young, and about a song oasis had sung

about how material girls and some houses are made of dung.

About Friendster friends, visible bra straps, and common grammatical errors.

Just like that, hours flew by like beer on tap, it was something to remember.

No one said any word about a having fling…

or two

But we both knew we had a thing,

going on, which reminded us of high school.

The next day, in my inbox I got a mail from him that read: in verbatim

So that night, i was at zouk,

it was becos, my friends called in the afternoon and asked me to.

And so i realised my lovely ex gf was gonna be there.

She had asked her friends and gang,

becos her 19th birthday was just the next day, and guess she wanted to celebrate it with a bang.

And so i went, not withoit hestitaions,

after all she said "Hey, just go. It's a public place."

Warmed up with mutual friends and it help the situation.

Not long after, on the dance floor, things happened before my face.

It would take me more than words to describe how i felt,

but hey, i was there to enjoy myself, didnt i?

So i decided to join my other group of friends elsewhere in the crowd.

I was dancing and that's when this girl caught my eye.

She was wearing this stunning blue, oops white dress, which i guess helped her stood out.

My eyes enjoyed every sight of her, i must confess.

My gaze was fixed. I couldnt stop checking her out.

She stopped dancing and went to the bar which was pretty near.

That moment, i thought, that was it. So i stepped up, and told her in her ears,

"I thought you look great" A compliement i swear, which had never been more sincere.

She flashed her pearly whites,

and there was a promise of tanned flawless skin

under the scheming and deceiving lights.

Oh i love her pink rosy cheeks,

which probably hinted a

bubbly giggly personality.

Her soft subtle cheeks are so meant to be kissed,

ohh, how i wished.

Not to mention her braces. How exotic.

I was beginning to believe the furtherest i could go

was to give my answers to a smoking survey.

Then she called me late last night,

boy, words laughter connections flowed and flowed.

We talked about virgins, Roy Keane, bra-sizes and our ex-es.

And we even made an indecent proposal about Marks and Spencers.

This girl has certainly got my attention,

for now i seek the day i get to see her in person

And enjoy her charm, company and beauty.

Oh, and without having to break into my wallet for that hundred and twenty.

=)

john

221003 12.16am.

Not one to back down from a challenge

I replied, in 2 minute nonchalance:

So that night i was at phuture,

dragged by friends, or should i say foes?

what i saw was quite a nice picture,

grinding asses, grooving figures, gone were my woes.

Pick-up lines I've heard aplenty,

comments on clothes and bodies had become tacky.

This guy stood out, albeit blessed with a "muggler's" name.

All "John's" till this night, i thought, had always looked the same.

For the sake of money i betrayed my self-imposed rules.

Gave away my number, risking heavy ridicule.

An apprehensive gesture turns into a pleasant surprise,

we talked and laughed amidst the dawn of sunrise.

A survey will mark the end i thought,

but the very idea makes me distraught.

One rule has been broken.

another will be equally forgiven.

X

ahh... I miss being young, dumb, and full of cum.