Conversation with a mat

It's a single-deck bus, so the seats fill up pretty quickly. An ITE mat takes the space beside me and bobs his head. "Sorry ah."

"It's okay." I say, bobbing in kind,  and readjust my earphones. 

He says something, and I remove them again. "Sorry?"

"Poly?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Temasek." 

"Oh."

I plug the phones back in. A minute later, he says something again, and I have to remove them. 

"What's your name?"

I tell him. 

"Oooh.. style ah. You Chinese?"

"Half. Eurasian Chinese."

"Oh... good what... Eurasian... like special ah. Like, different from everybody else lah... how does it feel to be Eurasian?"

"Um... yeah." I'm at a loss for words. "Um...." I smile brightly at him and fiddle with my earphones. I'd been looking forward to reading my notes during the long ride, or taking a nap, and I agonized in silent yearning. 

"How old are you?" He asks.

"Nineteen. You?"

"One year younger."

I nod awkwardly and try to look approving. "I see."

He lowers his voice. "So you single or attached?"

"Attached."

He pauses. "Your boyfriend in your poly?"

"No, he's working."

"How long already both of you?"

"About.. eight months." I smile again, and look down at my lap. An uncomfortable silence ensues.

"Sorry ah, just asking ah, 'cos I bored ah... sit next to someone, if can chat then chat ah... unless they like fucker act seh like that ah."

"Erm." I say, and chew on my lower lip. "Yeah." I try to look sympathetic. 

"If like those kind of people then I don't talk ah... don't wanna talk also ah... I don't like ah, people give me attitude like they very big ah. I always go out with my brothers ah, just cil cil (chill chill) only ah, then some people not happy ah, then got fight ah."

"I see."

"So what your hobby?"

"I read," I say, and think sadly about my assignments and deadlines. "And go out with friends."

"Club?"

"Yeah."

"This Saturday I going Dbl O with my brothers ah. You want to go?"

"I don't think so... I'm very, very busy these days, got a lot of assignments."

"Okay." He bobs his head. "Now every time I go club sure piang one." He sees the confusion on my face and explains. "Piang ah. You know what's that? Means fight ah." 

"Oh. How come?"

"'Cos I play shirt one ah, then other shirt and mine like, always piang one ah. Like I play 369 ah, so other like 08, 303, 21, 18, 24, Omega, if we see each other, we just langa ah. In club is always like me and my brothers just cil cil ah, slack, then some Chinese fucker push my ginna ah. First few times I say never mind ah, just cil ah. But they want to find trouble you know! So we say go outside settle ah. Then they always lose ah, cos we always bring weapon what." 

"Oh... wow. Okay." 

"Ya ah. Where got go clubbing don't bring weapon one right? Siao ah."

I can't believe I'm having this conversation. "Yeah," I say, somewhat emphatically. Going clubbing without weapons? What a laughable notion. Of course we need weapons in clubs. In fact, clubs should probably supply them at the door. 

"Actually shouldn't play shirt ah. I regret ah..."

I've given up fiddling with the earphones; they're hanging limply around my neck now, and I can hear strains of Trentemøller, and am torn between getting off the bus to escape him, or continung the conversation. I opt for the latter.

"Then why don't you quit?" 

"Okay lah... because you want to leave, got a few ways lah... open table, drop money, or let all your brothers - more than 100 - whack you ah."

"What do you mean, open table?"

"Means you invite all your boss to sit down and talk ah... then they order alcohol... a lot ah... and food... whatever they want ah. Then you must pay all ah. Very expensive. Then another way is just pay money ah, like $3690, or $369, or something ah... must be like, 369 ah."

"Oh."

"Ya... anyway... play shirt, better don't be so frenetic ah. Not good ah. But that's me lah. I play shirt since Sec 1 already. Last time always kena push by like Chinese ah, until one day I fight back ah.. then after that I never stop already. Now if piang, someone give me a few punches ah, I don't give them punches back ah. I make sure they go hospital."

Oh shit, I think. "Wow."

"Ya... always when piang with other shirt ah. Always when I just go out with my brothers and cil, slack ah. Then another shirts will come ah, and give us that look ah, like bastard sial, then surely one of them will ask ah, "You where one?" Then the other person will say, "You doneed to know I where one." Then will ask again ah, "You where one?" Then if the other person stupid enough to say, like, "I 24 Ang Kun one", then I 369, so can langa ah." 

"So what about girls?"

"Girls also I whack ah."

My eyes widen. "But.. you do?"

"Ya lah. As long as someone touch you first, you can touch them back what. I cil cil only then they wanna come and give me a fucker face, then touch me, I just touch back ah! No matter is girl, boy, gay or lesbian. As long as they touch first."

"Oh. So what kind of weapons do you use?"

"Got a few ah. Parang, chopper, brass knuckle..." 

"Have you ever had a police case?"

"Ya. I go boy's home before also. I slash one fucker ah then I go in. Two years plus." He gives me a careless grin.

"So far got all the case ah. Except murder. Soon ah." He chuckles. My expression at this point is totally "o_o".

"Anyway I going now. Eh, you take care ah!" He leaves as suddenly as he'd arrived. 

I spend the rest of the ride thinking about him and his future. One day he's going to end up in prison, or murdered, or both, and it won't matter who his brothers are, or the weapons he used to carry, or the tales of his glory. He'll just be dead, and someone else will take his place, and it will be just like he never existed, except for the lives he'd caused irreparable damage to.