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To those who actually know, that is the name of a boy band. But I'm not here to chat about them- Neither do I know anything about them. =____=
I have not been blogging for the past few days. Reasons are plan simple. I just cannot find the right mood to.
I went to do some CIP task yesterday and ended up with paint in my hair and my arm. I nearly left my Pumas in the room and my handphone on the bus. That isn't a good way of passing the day.
We then had dinner at Pizza Hut and then proceeded to have some snacks at some sushi bar. Then, I headed to Popular to purchase some TYS.
There isn't much to narrate about these past few days. I am beginning to feel the days are being sort of a drag.
I have, although, completed the monstrously long essay. What the heck. Since no one is really going to read it and give precious comments, I will just post it here.

The title's "The Bargain". I will let the story do the talking and explaining and justifying.

I

Fate has its many queer ways of bringing people together, and I do not say this without reason. The first meeting of my parents was when Dad returning a faulty rice cooker to the stall. Mum so happened to be the receptionist then. Cupid’s arrow hit home when Dad caught sight of Mum. It was to be love at first sight. Soon after, Dad began patronizing that particular stall more often, hoping to purchase a merchandise that will be his golden ticket to have another conversation with his dream girl. Yes, this method is no doubt stupid and a waste of money. But for a shy man like Dad, he will rather buy three microwave ovens instead of having to walk up to the girl and make a confession.

But eventually, Dad realized that quality control of these companies was indeed getting better, much to his dismay. It was only five months after he first stomped into the stall with that malfunctioning rice cooker that he finally mustered the courage to go up and speak to Mum. It seemed as though that there was chemistry between those two. In a couple of years, the love birds tied the knot. And one year later, I was born.

Much to my dismay, I seem to have inherited part of my Dad’s “bad” genes. Back in school, I will often find it difficult to converse with girls. I will sputter, stammer and search for words in a futile attempt. Strangely however, in adulthood, I found myself with a job as a Real Estate Agent.

Life has its many unexpected twists and turns. My Dad will also comment that if not for that faulty rice cooker, he would not have met Vivian. And had I not picked up the phone that rang incessantly at 3am, I may not have met Margaret.

I shall not divulge too much of the conversation I had with Mrs. Lai, the inconsiderate client who phoned in the wee hours of the morning. To keep matters crisp and short, I was to sell two of her private properties that sat off Nassim Road and Potong Pasir. I was to meet her at eleven that morning.

“Please wait for another few minutes. Your partner will arrive shortly.”, Mrs. Lai said, motioning me to the leather sofa that sat smack in the middle of the hall.

“My…What? I didn’t know that this was to be a group project.”. I answered, both astounded and shocked by this client’s boldness in spearheading the first ever joint sale of properties.

“Yes. I thought that since Al you were so busy already with your current workload, you may need an extra pair of helping hands my dear. It is two properties you know. And with the market in this sort of shape, I think you may spend more time that I can afford. I will be going back to my family in the Philippines in ten months. That is not very long you know.”

“But I…Why did you…”

My sentence was cut short by the ringing of the bell. Trouble.

In came a lady in her early thirties. She was clad simply in a black blouse and slung a Guess handbag over her shoulder. Her hair, with streaks of maroon, were pulled tightly back and tied neatly into a pony-tail. She waved at Mrs. Lai and then shot a stare at me. My hand reached for the cup of coffee that stood on the table and I drank it to calm my nerves.

Please do not get me wrong. It is not the sight of the intruder that is dogging me. It is rather the notion of having to split the commission with another agent, furthermore a woman, that irks me. Real Estates operate solo. No one has heard of having two agents selling houses for the same client now is there?

“Al! Meet Margaret. She will be your partner in this joint project.”, Mrs. Lai announced, before smiling at me. It was a disgusting smile. My first impression of Margaret was that she looked just like any other girl down at Orchard Road. It was a face that you quickly forget as soon as you saw it. And she had that strange habit of tugging her collar together before she began to twiddle her thumbs. Little did I know that I was to adore this idiosyncratic side of hers in just ten months.

II

“Mr. Lee. You must understand that people like us are also trying to eek out a living here. You are pushing way too hard a bargain and frankly, there is hardly any commission left for us to earn for the amount that you are forking.”

“No Al. Let me ask you. For this type of property, who in the right mind will purchase them? It is so awfully run down. Look at the exterior of that structure. It is so…So old! I think you are the one who is being unreasonable here. Hey…”

“Personally, I do not think so. I will be frank with you Mr. Lee. The reason that I am sitting down here and talking to you is because Mrs. Lai said that you were an understanding man and knew the meaning of ambience and quality of life. This is a Victorian design building. How many buildings in Singapore actually have those floors to ceiling windows? And by the way, those “cracks” are actually vines that twin around the pillars for support. I assure you, if this house withstood the onslaught of those Zeros during World War II, it will still be erect on that plot of land for all the renovation works that will be carried out. It is a property at Nassim Road. Vintage. Classic. Exquisite. It is the house to have!”

I ended my sentence and closed my brief case. I excused myself to go the toilet. Now for part two of the show.

As I peeked around the corner, I saw Margaret trying to convince that tight fisted man to raise his purchase cost. She had her head held close to Mr. Lee. No, this sale is not done by sex appeal. The modus operandi was simple. It was an adopted format of the Police’s “Good Cop, Bad Cop”. Naturally, I was the bad and mean and greedy agent while Margaret was the more understanding one.

“I don’t think this one will be budging. He is too tight fisted. And really, I think he is truly one shallow man. 1.8 million for a property off Nassim Road? I nearly laughed off my seat when you told me that!”, Margaret complained. She then picked out a Malboro, lit it and took a long drag.

“Give this frog two weeks. I think he is beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. And must you smoke?”, I replied, waving my hand to fan off the smoke.

“Never you mind! Oh yes, I have a proposal. I think the 50-50 split of commission between us is unfair. No, it is ridiculous. How about this way. Whoever finds the client who buys the estate at the highest possible price gets 70% of the commission?”

“What?”

“Is that not right? I mean, I could be slogging my ass out there trying desperate to find clients while Al you may be having a ball of a time at a pub. And then, when the deal is sealed, you get half the money despite not even lifting a finger!”

This woman is fiery. Well, who isn’t when it comes to money? And that is the reason why I hate doing team-ups with women. They are just too calculative.

“No. I disagree.”

“Oh come on. That will be only fair.”

“70% is too high. 60.”.

“65%”.

“Deal.”.

I must compliment that sharp mind of this quick witted woman. She has her own unique way of doing things. She was not one to be trifled with. She may have that ubiquitous feature, but that character certainly makes her stand out of the crowd. She is special.

III

The property at Nassim Road took about three months to be sold. The price was 2.7 million. It was bought by a man named S.Ramesh. I got the bigger portion of the pie. That night, to celebrate, Margaret and I headed to Zouk to let our hair down. We danced, drank and had a lot of fun. But it was what happened at her door-step that was the most important fact. Outside that door, fenced by those bronze gates with little butterflies on the top, I asked Margaret to be my girlfriend. Do not get me wrong, I am not taking advantage of her by asking her this question when she is in a presuming drunken stupor. She was a good drinker. I got no reply. I entered my Mini Cooper feeling rejected and depressed. I turned my key and ignited the engine. It roared to life. Then, I sped out of the car-park haphazardly and horned with rage at the slow moving traffic.

Off the junction at Aljunied, I received a text message. It read “Yes. Yes. Yes!”. Those three words. Those very three words snapped me out of my sorrow and dejectedness. I did not realize that I had stepped on the accelerator for too long a time. And before I knew it, I unintentionally sped past a red light and the Speed Camera that stood beside the road made a gurgling noise. Rats.

I would say that the next seven months were truly the happiest moments of my life. I got to go about ratting at stingy clients with Margaret while she played the loving and understanding angel. But, at the end of the seventh month, the estate at Potong Pasir remained unsold. Mrs. Lai was getting impatient. Margaret was getting more hot-headed. We quarreled more often and things seemed to be falling apart. Or so it seemed.

“Hey. Meet me the stupid house at eight tonight alright? I will like to clarify some matters about us.”, I spoke to the answering machine and then, stepped into Felicia’s flat.

That night, Margaret phoned me to say that she would be late. All the better, I had more time to prepare and break the news to her.

Promise and consequences come hand in hand. For every good thing, there seems to be a price. For the past ten months, I had a really fantastic time with Margaret. It was this client’s outraging proposal that brought two separate souls together. It was the bargain and the coercing with the clients that made us understood one another even more. It was those cruises along the BKE in the Mini Cooper that provided us with quiet and precious moments to get to know each other and feel what the other feels. But it was also the job that tore us apart. It was the race against time that made us frustrated and demanding and infuriated with each other’s flaws. Her stubbornness and stick in the mud tactics. And mine never-say-die attitude that fuelled the flames that burned the red string that joined us together.

We met outside the estate.

“I bought two tickets to a trip to the Night Safari. You always wanted to…”

“Oh? I see. Alright then!”. Her spontaneous attitude to what had happened to us a few weeks back startled me. She is a strong girl.

The trip was not the first for both her and me. She so happened to be yawning most of the time and I was beginning to feel that this should not be how things should work out. It was only when the antelopes came knocking when she suddenly sprang to life. I heard her laugh. How long has it been since this happened? The highlight of the show was the Eagle Soar Act. Basically, eagles were to encircle around the moving train while dropping little nuts and grapes onto the laps of visitors. The last segment of this act took awfully long to take place though.

Some spectators had the look of annoyance on their faces. They moved about uncomfortably in their seats. Some glanced at their watches. Margaret looked rather non-chalant about the entire matter.

“What is taking that stupid bird so long? Just drop the nut and head on.”, she muttered, then resting her head on my shoulder. In a corny sort of reply, the eagle released what it was gripping onto and dropped the item onto Margaret’s lap.

“What on earth?”, she exclaimed.

“Open it up.”, I said, pointing at the unidentified object.

She unwrapped the item gently. “If this is a nut, it sure is an expensive one. With all this wrapping. Ha ha!”, she giggled, opening up the item like a curious little girl. Inside that box, was a ring resting on plenty of dry straw. Just then, the coordinator of this little adventure walked up and passed me a rose.

“Margaret….”

The bargain. While the rice cooker brought Dad to Mum, this little deal of selling houses brought Margaret and Al together. I must say that the eagle dropping down that very costly box was a stroke of genius. I must thank Felicia for that extraordinary idea. That house off Potong Pasir is now the residence of both Al and Margaret. Mrs. Lai sold it to us at a rather reasonable price. As for Mr. Lee, I doubt if he would ever have another chance to step into a Nassim Road estate that he could call his very own. Yes, it is indeed the bargain of a lifetime.