I agreed to meet the late-comer at the gym at his chosen time of 2:15pm. These days, it's always the late-comer who decides on what time and which gym we'll visit. But luckily, it's a place near my neighbourhood this time. I estimated a journey time of 30 minutes, but a happy confluence of buses take me there 10 minutes early. I occupy the extra time by doing some stretching. 10 minutes later, I'm done, but there's no sign of the late-comer. No new messages either. So I make a somewhat controversial decision. I will only wait 10 minutes. Why 10 minutes? I have no idea. It's not like I've done such a thing before, after all. Maybe an imaginary survey was conducted among residents of my head space in a split second and 10 minutes was the result. When time was up, I packed up my bag and headed to the bus stop. The bus was already in sight. I send the late-comer a message at about 2:30pm: I got tired of waiting and went home. He replied: I'm already here....
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The late-comer is a married middle-aged man. He knows it all. (Or thinks he does.) When he is proven wrong, he merely laughs it off. He can't be wrong, of course. He is fit and agile. (Or thinks he is.) When he fails at gym, he makes that high-pitched whooping noise like it's the most difficult thing ever. Then come the excuses, the most often used one being: no energy for working out after work. Or else, it's because his muscles have atrophied and get tired easily from not having been to gym for a whole week. It's hardly his fault, of course. His grammar is faultless. (Or so he thinks.) And so he thinks nothing of proclaiming that random sentences are "wrong". One such incident takes place at a dinner for five. The unfortunate victim - a poster hanging just behind the table. No one at the table says a word. Maybe they are confused. The English News Editor barely manages not to roll her eyes. He fails to notice, of course. But what's really annoying ab...