The Other Side

My wife met up with her ex-colleague for lunch couple of weeks ago. Her ex-colleague was a rich tai tai, a go-getter… ah, whatever. Many people would probably find her brash and she is sure to snort, “It’s your problem.” Strangely, though complete opposites… after all these years, she still kept in touch with my wife.

They sat through lunch, I guess that tai tai friend of hers must had looked expensive – the well manicured nails, the clothes, the pointy shoes, wearing nice perfume, the latest mobile phone and Luis Vuitton bag. It is likely that everyone around was rushing through their lunch while they were eating their lunch slowly, killing time.

Moving forward…my wife was back home. She was going on…saying how that tai tai friend ticked off a young waitress for not serving properly or rather, not to her satisfaction. At the back of my mind, I was cursing….those rich people at it, again.

Then again, I was into wishful thinking… how nice if I’ve got tons of money, I could just lap it up, stay at home and live a life of leisure and luxury. This scenario is too good to be dismissed outright. Imagine being able to walk out on one’s fxxxing highly stressed and low-paying job. For me, flying to London for Arsenal’s home matches, taking my meals at El Bullil, shopping at Milan, relaxing at some spa in some faraway Thai resort, and going almost anywhere, anytime.

It seems, her ex-colleague married rich. I guess there is no point marrying a struggling chap and spend the rest of the time trying to stretch his salary to cover housing loan, car loan, food, utilities, transport fares, maid levy, petrol and other necessities. Bluntly put forth, one might as well go back to work.

I only see the glamour part of being rich. Not sure how her ex-colleague sees it. Maybe she might have told people that the grass is always greener on the other side. You know, it could be… she may have sleepless nights worrying about her maid, about her husband in his overseas job stint, about her country club membership being open to outsiders, about en-bloc profits, about her golf handicap, about a fatter bank account and a zillion of other trivialities.

I really don’t know about what the ultra rich might worry about. My wife and myself haven’t had a holiday in donkey years. With a baby in tow, we just can’t pack our bags and leave whenever we feel like it. Sometimes, when things go wrong, if ah girl starts bawling in the middle of the night, we might had wish we were still single. This has got to be human nature…. to yearn for something that we do not have.