It was too cold. Even sitting in one place made her teeth chatter. She took a quick glance at her watch. 9:45pm. She looked around the bowling alley, lane by lane, and finally focused her gaze on her mother and relatives as they bowled. She never liked bowling night; she'd just sit in one corner and observe the game from afar, adjust her seat from time to time, and mumble ' it's freaking cold..' to herself.
The thunderous sound of bowling balls rolling down alleys and crashing into pins suddenly made her feel hungry. Or was it just her tummy acting out?
Sudden, random shouts by bowling fanatics and groups of friends and family as they hit a strike made it all unbearable, so she went one floor down and wandered around the mall like a helpless zombie looking for her meat - Then she stopped pacing, and entered a restaurant that served exotic Indonesian food. Suddenly eating Bakso at 9:47pm seemed like a good idea. She was bothered by two things; she might not like her food. It was her first time there, and thus far, Indonesian food has made quite an impression on her. QUITE. And one other thing that's rather troubling, one that urged her to borrow a pen from the staff working at the restaurant, and scribble all the thoughts in her head onto two pieces of tissue paper. So she started off with this, 'I wouldn't call this a tragedy, or an unfortunate happening just a simple misunderstanding. I am trying the best I can, for the both of us. If only you could see that.'
Times like these, she thought, I would ask myself, what would Lady Gaga do? Hmm, probably write another grammy-winning song. Oh I know, she beamed, I'll write a list! Yes a list! Lists would always work in times like these. Lists would never fail you. Ever. - And so she began her list, listening intently to her thoughts and listing them down. And the result?
More like a short essay, than a list. But she liked it. Smiling to herself, she thought, well, it ain't a list, but it works for me. She placed her tissue paper next to her larger-than-life Bakso Mee soup bowl, admiring it, and reading it again and again, devouring her soup at the same time. It wasn't as warm as when it first arrived on her table, but it was satisfying. Her list says;
''I am looking for a man, who would accept me, wholly, I am looking for a man who knows what he wants in life, who will look after my needs, wants, demands and whims ( I,Woman ), who will pamper me with love, who kisses my flaws, who stands by me through it all. Who will become my eyes when all other lights go out. I want someone to hold on to, and I can be myself when I'm around him. Behave stupidly, bite my lips, scratch my ass, squeeze my pimples and blackheads in front of him, and fart in front of him. Who laughs at my jokes even though they're not funny, who will be my personal brand of remote control when I lose it."
Guilty as charged, I am the fool who rushed into it.
And I am glad I did.