"I'm really sick of working from home and staying at home and trudging around home in my designer underwear," our sex bunny friend said.
"And though we do meet, we're always at each other's homes."
"I never imagine I would one day say this, but boys it's about time I put on some clothes and got out for some sun," he said.
And so, we decided to deck out from head to toe in our Tuesday best, get out of the house and have lunch at Dempsey.
I chose a white button down, jeans and brown loafers.
Stanley turned up in a light green tee paired with a navy blue blazer, brown pants, shoes, no socks.
Carl the dense one -- who always never gets the memo -- came in a pair of black polo tee, a pair of beige bermudas and bloody sandals.
Stanley had insisted we ate lunch at Candlenut, a posh (but expensive) Peranakan restaurant after hearing rave reviews from some of his friends who had gone there recently.
"Explain to me why you have no self respect," Stanley said by way of greeting Carl, eyeing our gym rabbit friend from head to toe.
"Which part of 'come in your best slutty clothes' do you find hard to understand?"
Carl, who really usually doesn't understand, shifted uncomfortably and cringed at the pre-lunch image conjured by the words come, slutty and hard in the same sentence.
Inside the restaurant, we found a relatively large table to accommodate our over-ordering ways.
As we settled down and took off our masks, Stanley sighed with relief, happy to be surrounded by people.
"What have you boys been up to," asked Stanley, his eyes darting around speedily, checking out all the masked men in the room.
"Is it me or do men in masks look sexy," he asked the table.
"I mean, the fact that half their faces are covered up ramps up the sex appeal -- you'll have to imagine what's underneath that piece of cloth, much in the way you'd visualise how that person's man bits look like under that pair of jeans," Stanley continued, using his eyes to point at a slim and trim guest with a mop of curly hair, who's strolling in with his elderly grandma.
"But yes, tell me, what have you boys been busy with?"
Carl, who at that moment was indeed busy, continued tapping into his phone furiously.
"I'm trying to send an email to show that I'm working," our dense friend said. "I didn't tell my boss that I'd be venturing out for early lunch."
"Oh, I'm on leave," Stanley replied. "Just that HR and my boss both aren't aware of it."
Soon, our tasting platters were laid on the table -- mini kueh pietee, mantou with crab and wing bean salad -- and we got to work, making those exquisite morsels disappear.
"I've been busy," Stanley began as he swallowed the last of his wing bean salad, "watching Netflix. And you guys MUST watch Indian Matchmaking!"
"I've heard of it," I say, having seen the series pop up in my Netflix account. I was also constantly reminded by my sis (who insists she's a bachelorette and not a spinster, and who doesn't need to be matchmade) to watch the show so that she can have an intellectual discussion with me on the merits of an arranged marriage.
Carl, who's dense and slow to all types of development apart from growing his muscles, nodded sagely.
"You know what we talking about meh?" Stanley challenged.
Carl pouted, shook his head and proceeded to eat his fillings, which, at this point of the lunch, was minced pork, prawn and water chestnut from ngor hiang.
What Stanley found intriguing about Indian Matchmaking -- apart from the handful of cute Indian eye candies -- is a peek into society's views on various issues: The cultural differences, the caste system, discrimination against certain 'types' of people, and of course, insights into human behaviour among families and how values are passed down from parents to children.
Stanley's strength is obviously in dissecting societal issues and breaking down barriers of human interaction.
Also making full use of his strength in dissecting and breaking down is Carl, who is now making himself useful by de-shelling our next dish, sambal prawns, for us.
"I don't know if I can fall in love with someone that's arranged for me," Carl said finally, licking his fingers clean of the piquant sambal sauce from his fingers.
Indeed, it was food for thought.
In this part of the world, we're big on love marriages.
In India (and perhaps some parts of China), they're big on arranged marriages.
"And in this spot of the restaurant, we're big on gay marriages," Stanley said a tad too loudly, which could have been his goal since I caught him smiling at the trim curly-haired boy three tables away.
"At the end of the day," Stanley said, refocusing his attention on us after a failed hook-up attempt, "it's about how we make marriages work. If you can't find matches, there's no shame in getting help. And if you're matched, you'll have to make your love work -- romance is unfortunately not a fairy tale."
And then, Stanley perked up.
"But sometimes there can be plot twists and miracles can happen," he said, hurriedly putting on his mask.
"Curly boy is smiling back at me... and he's walking to the toilet."
"I'll be back -- or maybe not," Stanley said sultrily and scurried off to find his love.
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Adam's stories are based on real life events and inspired by real people
Amazingly drafted. Loved it! here
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