Junhui's Birthday Part 1

Last Saturday was Junhui’s birthday. Joey, Junhao and I decided to pool together our money to buy him a cooperative present. Of course Joey and I did the shopping since we’re more familiar with the peculiar literature he reads. Something that’s translated since the English language is too contemporary for his liking. Latin, Greek or French was what we agreed on.

“How about the French royalty?” I suggested, flashing him a book that I dug out. It speaks of how King Louis XIV, the largest ego in the 19th century, reigned over France with such outrageous pomp and pageantry. Their pompadour hairdos nesting on their heads with an excess of ribbons strewed all over. Vivid images of their flamboyant dressing start flooding my mind. Picturing them with rope-like necklaces of pearl strangled round their slender necks plunging down their heaving bosoms that are grossly exaggerated by the corset that binds their fragile frame was only too easy.

“Maybe we’re a little over the top.” Joey commented.

“Just a tad.” I replied casually.

Then there was a book with the cover showing Greeks cavorting in the gardens, sensuously barefooted, delirious with pleasure. Either that or the heat has gotten to them but I would rather the first interpretation. Pardon my indulgence.

“Too scantily dressed.” Joey said displaying a judgemental look.

I agree instinctively. Junhui was and is all about being prim and proper. Even baring of the naked wrist was far too decadent. I could almost hear him screaming utter depravity.

Joey showed me a book on Chinese history. The cliché cover immediately strikes you. Bright red with Chairman Mao’s face smacked dead centre encompassed by a halo with peasants below sticking out their chest swollen with pride, progressing arm in arm.

“I kinda like the cover. So edgy, but then again we’re no Stalin. It’s too propaganda for my liking.” I said bearing in mind that we’re are here to get a gift and not to campaign and crush the infidels. So much for not judging a book by it’s cover.

“We should really start reading the contents since it’s a book that we’re getting him.” I proposed.

“True, true.” answered Joey.

Due to our strict guidelines, we had to let go sleazy titles such as sex with the queen and sex through the ages with a heavy heart.

“So that’s why he spends so much time in this section.” I said poking fun at him.

“Shrewd observation.” replied Joey and we broke out in laughter. No traipsing into books that promotes vices. That should be reserved for his 21st birthday.

We were undecided whether to dabble in myths and legends since he’s really a factual reader a.k.a. mind-numbingly boring. Actually I’m no better, scrutinizing scores as if i were penning a will. Homer’s Iliad was an obvious choice but it being such a popular piece of literature seems to work against us because we weren’t sure if he has read it.

In the end after great mockery of the staff, who was kept extremely busy picking after Joey who chucks books into every possible nook and crevice, we set our eyes on this handsomely bound book on myths which could easily pass off as the Bible. How blasphemous if we mistook it and brought it to church. It’s gonna look so impressive on the shelf even if he doesn’t get about reading it. In fact the image of the Charmed Ones comes to mind when you picture the three of us crowding round it minus the spilling cleavage and stilettos. It’s quite an interesting picture and I hope that I’ve seared it into your minds. Images of our ‘cross-over’ performance of Macbeth in secondary school came flashing back. Imagine secondary school boys who aren’t even of age experimenting with ‘cross dressing’. We were so progressive. Truly we had the makings of great artists. Unappreciated in our own time. Anyways back to the story.

“We have to go.” prompted Joey impatiently tapping his watch. “We better not be late for his birthday,” as he continues highlighting our shortage of time, “it’ll be so embarrassing and impolite if we arrive later then him and I can’t imagine if he misconstrues it as a desperate last minute effort, which is so not the case.”

“Junhui’s time is quite elastic.” I retorted being slightly irritated but what he said was very true. It’s somebody’s birthday and of course you would want them to feel precious. Obviously Einstein didn’t manage to secure Junhui as a case study for his relativity mumbo-jumbo.

Only after paying did we realize that we had forgotten to get him a card. I dashed for the card section and found something utterly radical and refreshing. It’s not our usual glittery Hallmark card swathed in hues of pastel blue and pink or those cheesy cards with music and lights. It’s a picture of a horse baring all it’s teeth, smiling from ear to ear.

“That?!” exclaimed Joey in utter disbelief.

“Sure why not?” I innocently replied. “It’s so funky and we could write stuff like hope you forever remain smiling. No thanks to the Botox. Sweet and simple.

Being really tied for time we hurriedly re-queued although we're really lost as to what we're going to do with such a hideous card. We were nearing the cashier when we discovered that we lacked a pen to write with. How klutz can we get?

“Let’s pretend that we’re sampling pens.” suggested Joey with a mischievous grin.

“I may be crazy but I definitely don’t want to get thrown out for using their pen. We’ll borrow one from the station manager at Clarke Quay.”

Scurrying through the dawdling crowd, we nudged and elbowed our way through, fighting with fierce determination against the onslaught of people in the opposing direction. If Junhui were here he would suggest that I prod the people with my unsheathed umbrella which is dripping wet. “That’ll teach them to hog the lane.” commented Junhui in my head, vindictively laughing at their sorry state.

“We should take part in the Amazing Race.” said Joey.

“We gotta give others a chance at winning. However I’m not gonna deny that television needs us to boost their ratings. More kiasu and rude Singaporeans that people love to hate. We’re gonna be so infamous on that show.”