We were at Sim’s. Prepping up the night’s agenda. Tuck has also stop making orgasmic sounds seating on Sim’s sensational new massage chair. We head out to meet him – Sina – who had just arrive and is parked outside.
“Wait for us, we’re coming out now,” says Sim as he heads back into his room looking for me.
“Sorry man, forgot my trusty little compass,” I justified my unhurried conduct.
We headed out and I resumed by new-found feng-shui knowledge to Sim about why he should have a water-feature flowing water from North into the front door. Not literally lah.
What struck me was when I saw him, still seated inside his car listening to Broken Social Scene, was that he was driving this white Wira, which he’s brother owns. I took my place at the back seat, “It’s been a long time lah,” I clarify my motive, “I’m so sick of the front seat.” as I head to the back seat.
“Dude!” I exclaimed, “I never thought I live the day to see Pedram allowing you to drive his car!”
“It’s not his car anymore dude,” he feels the steering, “He drives a Beemer now.”
A what?! Damn. That’s one massive upgrade, “Wow, that’s fantastic. Good for him.”
Sina shifts the gear into D and we’re now headed to 7-Eleven, “Yeah, he’s a much happier person these days, less tantrums, not stressed-out and all. Hell, I can even have long decent conversations with him nowadays. I’m so happy for him.”
Of course lah he’s happy. Who wouldn’t be less bitter, cheerier and satisfied when you’re driving a BMW. Come on lah, it’s a Beemer wei. With the prospect (based on statistics) that BMW drivers get about 2.2 sex per week. What’s there to be bitter about, really.
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