The Invention of Intervention

I'm penning this entry in the favourite part of my condo overseas: The balcony.

It's Saturday morning, and writing entries for this blog has now become my weekend routine before I head for the gym and meet friends for lunch to keep myself sane.

And as part of my weekend routine, I checked in with the boys on WhatsApp.

"What are my favourite boys doing now?" I tapped into our group chat titled "Just the Boys".

Stanley Ong:    
I'm working my ass off - and not in a good way either.

Carl Chang:
I'm also working my ass off - but in a good way. At Fitness First.

Stanley Ong:
@Carl Chang: I also want to work my ass off in a good way later... with whoever comes First. 
@Adam: Are you alive?

Carl Chang:
Oh no @Adam: what happened. are you ill?!?!

Stanley Ong:
@Carl Chang: neh mind, stop talking. Go and pump your iron.
@Adam: ttyl - I need to overachieve. 
Love you boys!

Since Stanley found a job in the middle of last year, the only time our sex bunny friend had been hard was at work.

His newfound motto is to overachieve.

Which makes sense, given that whatever Stanley sets out to do, he does.

And I'm comforted that Stanley has now found his footing, unlike the first few months after he was retrenched in 2017 (read it here).

Back then, we saw Stanley in various states of vulnerability.

He took it well initially, given that financially, Stanley isn't exactly from an orphanage.

He was very calm about his joblessness despite the fact that right before his retrenchment, he was looking to buy his own place.

Stanley explained to us - as much as he had to hear himself - that "it's okay, guys. I will now finally have time to finish those books lying in my attic".

But Stanley couldn't upkeep his optimism, and soon became restless, angry, doubtful and finally, morbidly pessimistic.

Carl and I decided to intervene.

We called for a boys' gathering one Friday night at the Ikea Alexandra cafe, to satisfy Carl's sudden meatball cravings.

"When you have meatball cravings, Carl Dear, you go to the bed section of Ikea, or even the toilet," Stanley recommended. "You'll truly satisfy your cravings there."

Carl the dense didn't react, partly due to hunger, partly due to his inability to process information that required some form of analysis.

I on the other hand was inwardly glad that Stanley, in spite of his situation, still had a sense of humour. 

Later, as we set down with not just a plate of meatballs but also fried chicken wings, baked salmon and cake, we began to discuss Stanley.

"You've not quite been yourself, Stan," I said, pausing just so he could absorb what I said.

Centimetres away, Carl started absorbing too, and focused on making his meatballs disappear.

"I'm scared," Stanley said.

Carl looked up from his plate and looked from me to Stanley and started chewing timidly.

"Look. I'm nearly 40. And my last drawn isn't exactly low. At my age and level, who would hire me?"

Carl paused, seemingly understanding the gravity of Stanley's situation. He nodded empathetically and slowly forked another meatball into his mouth.

"What if I have to drive Grab at age 40?!

"I'll be one of those disgruntled, highly educated uncles who will complain to passengers about the government in one sentence, and then tell the very same passenger that I used to be top management in my old company, you know?"

Carl remained silent.

And so did I, because what Stanley said was highly plausible.

There and then, I made a mini life changing decision.

"Carl, apply urgent leave on Monday. I'll do the same."

Carl nodded hastily without questioning why.

"Boys, I have an idea."

The last time someone said that in our group, we ended up randomly driving up to JB at 12am for massage and supper.

This idea was somewhat similar.

Some quick work on my mobile phone later, Carl, Stanley and I were set for an adventure the next day, after I secured a villa at Batam View Resort for two nights.

It was random.

It was exciting.

And it was necessary.

The next morning, we each showed up at HarbourFront in our resort best.

Stanley opted for a light green, oversized floral short sleeves shirt he bought in Thailand during Songkran, paired with a straw hat and Ray Bans.

Carl, as expected, turned up in a tank top that looked three sizes too small for his frame.

I wore a sensible and comfortable dry fit tee and berms.

After stocking up our large duffel bags with copious amounts of chips and alcohol, we were ready to board.

"Here come the faeries!" Stanley said out loud as he stepped foot into the vessel.

Fifteen minutes into our bumpy sea ride, a very pale Carl turned to us and said "this motion reminds me of 20 years ago, during NS".

Without missing a beat, a very fresh faced Stanley chimed in: "This motion reminds me of 20 hours ago, during ONS".

When we finally set foot on Indonesian soil, Stanley squealed.

"Oh my god, I'm excited. Thank you Adam. This looks great! Top or Batam, here I come!"

Our villa was a short buggy ride from the reception and past the kelong.

Inside, the resort looked like a posh one-bedded chalet that came with decent furnishing and a well stocked kitchen.

I wasted no time and made the three of us coffee from the machine.

The highlight was our balcony which overlooked the Singapore Strait and Marina Bay Sands.

I can already imagine us sitting there at night, listening to the waves under the stars and feeling the breeze. 

Years ago, my partner J and I had come to this resort for a quick weekend getaway because the two of us had been too busy to catch up.

And let's just say that since then, when I think of quality time, Batam View Resorts would automatically spring to mind.

The plan was for us three to spend a luxurious day together and forget about our worries.

The programme was easy enough to arrange - there was only that much one could do in the resort.

Stanley disagreed, saying there's a lot to do in a resort, but he would not want to include us - thankfully - in those activities.

Soon, we were off to the resort pool with cocktails and magazines.

This was followed by lunch, and then a two-hour karaoke session, before we did a two-hour massage.

And then, we strolled purposefully to the kelong and demanded to eat good seafood and drink lots of cold beer.

By dinner, we were nicely rejuvenated though we had to urgently wash off all the salt on our skin.

By 10pm local time, the three of us were showered and ready for more alcohol by the balcony.

This time though, we were to talk some serious shit.

"I'm so fuuuulllll," Carl said in a low, guttural drawl.

"The seafood is so good that I would seriously choose cockles over cocks in my mouth any day," Stanley said in a creepy squeal like he were a school girl.

As we sipped our chilled Shiraz in cheap wine glasses, Stanley revealed that he had been spending a lot of time cooped up in his bedroom, worried over the prospects of being jobless.

At first, it started with a mere thought - a joke even - in which he could end up unemployed and having no choice but to drive Grab.

And when there were no replies from companies, he started to think if he might seriously be passed up for cheaper hires.

I wanted to ask Stanley if he had included his Grindr profile photos in those resumes, but thought I should shut up.

"And the fact that you and Carl continue to meet me almost every weekend isn't helping," Stanley said seriously.

"You guys are a reminder that at age 40 - '39!' interrupted Carl angrily  - it is normal to have high earning and spending power, and that I am suddenly out of the rat race."

"I am thrifty, yet at the same time, I have grown so complacent with my lifestyle. I'm no longer the Stanley in my 20s and 30s. I'm an improved version - I have felt so much self worth from my career and suddenly, one day, it's all gone."

Carl made a sad face and placed his head on Stanley's shoulder for moral support.

I struggled to find words to say, channelling my wise partner J, but gave up.

Over the last few months, we have done all we could to give Stanley the support he needed.

Assurance, encouragement, alternative stories as to why no company replied him, hopes that things will turn out better.

And now, this resort to commiserate.

As his best friends, I feel we are nearly exhausting our means to be supportive.

"I know you boys are worried," Stanley said earnestly, the alcohol in his system making him look more doe-eyed than usual.

"But I guess we just have to put one foot in front of the other and keep going.

"It's just that my bio clock is ticking. The older you are, the less desirable at work.

"Lucky for me, my bio cock is also ticking.

"And the older I get, the more desirable it is. Trust me. I've been doing the leg work given that I have so much time," Stanley said and all three of us burst out laughing.



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Adam's stories are based on real life events and inspired by real people