at crossroads with my Death Angel

I met my Death Angel briefly this week.
Between London and Singapore, I was slotted for an hour and a half.
He was visibly exhausted.

I was too guilty. I could have gotten away scot-free, but I was feeling way too guilty.
I pointed out all the potential problems and not so perfect proposition I had laid before him for his approval.
The usual sheepish smile appeared and out of habit he flexed his hands into a fist and flatten his palms out of the table, glanced at it, then looked up and said,
“Never mind.” Brief smile. “I’ll manage it.”
He’s always ever ready to take the bull by its horns. Ever ready to make right what’s wrong even if it means going against conventions. He’s potentially someone I could see as my inspiration and ‘light’.
But this is not right.
I shouldn’t.
Thank god for the interruption, he was whisked off in a flash.
A Board member had summoned him for a pre-Board huddle before the actual Board Meeting in Singapore.
I stayed back.
I decided to snap my laptop open and do some work rather than burn fuel. evening. rain.
I had not realised that I had been at the desk for hours.
Ha. My Dark Angel must have landed in Changi by now … suggested my watch – which could be wrong given that it’s a vintage that’s at least a decade older than me. I grabbed the waxed coated San Francisco coffee cup and look around for a wall clock … too many clocks, each with the time of various cities in which his operations existed in … but Kuala Lumpur!

Yucks. Cold.

But at close to 12 ringgit, every gulp counts and I need the caffeine.
Time to go. It’s really late. The aerial view of beeline of headlights snaking the Federal Highway seems to be moving at a reasonable speed.
I took the elevator down to the car park.
Merits of having your own building is that the reserved car park lots are at the lifts, covered with close circuit cameras … no security issues to be concern with. But it also means one has to behave one self!
Traffic was relatively light. So was the rain.
A Bentley passed. Then a weird looking sports Lexus … and finally a Posche Panamera.
I am depressed, I decided.
Something I had not had time to feel or entertain for a long time now.
No, no, not by the fact that some super vulgar rich people had driven by me.
I am suddenly experiencing the pangs of loneliness and being alone.
The holiday blues is definitely getting to me.
I hate festivities.
Oh well, it’s just a month before I venture into the wide open spaces of Africa again. Traveling northbound overland from Kenya to Ethiopia. Undecided as to which Middle Eastern country I should stop en route … none of which I have had good memories off if I count back my experiences stretching 2 years back.

Memories of my last trip in Dubai came flooding back.

With a collapsed spine and one of the stupidest decision ever to continue with overland travels that spans more than 24 hours, followed by a 9+ hour flight from Jo’burg to Dubai, I was desperately in search of the strongest concoction of muscle relaxants and pain killers that will not pronounce me dead at the end of my flight in Dubai. Three European men cut me in the queue, grabbing boxes of contraception and proceeded to put their junior high school maths lessons to use: box contents divided by number of nights multiplied by number of girls each. It was concluded that between the three of them, they would need 2 1/2 boxes  – that’s 30 condoms! That’s cheating on each wife 10 times! And depending on the “grade” that could well be the cost of 5 mid-range Louis Vuitton handbags! plus three for each wifey who desperately believes her husband loves her and feels sorry for leaving her behind for work often.
Anyways, I’ll be seeing my Dark Angel next Friday.

I’ve got effectively 10 days to decide.
Should I? Should I not?
It’s unethical.
It’s not me.

But, it’s tempting.
And maybe sometimes I should operate out of my box.
Out of my value system.

screw ethics?


5 thoughts on “at crossroads with my Death Angel

  1. Screw ethics once in awhile though this is too cryptic. I haven't been in touch. You haven't been in touch. I've no idea what we're dealing with here but am sure you'll figure it out.Though occasionally screw ethics. Sell out once in a while Penelope.

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