The following events took place over two consecutive weekends. Viewer discretion is advised. Joke.
It was Chip's birthday on Wednesday, but the unwritten rule dictates birthday celebrations must commence on Friday night to maximize party options. So let it be written, so let it be done. Also remembered as the faux "De Silva-Amane nuptials," it started with a vague plan (as all great nuptials are - think The Bride in "Kill Bill"), then became a field trip as we negotiated the urban jungle in search of... a decent ATM machine and Chip's house. We Cabrons and Spartans (people from Training Rooms 6 and 10, respectively) can only make it so far without our paycheck, and the three ATMs we encountered spat out our cards with venom.
We arrive in time to thank God for the food. From morcon to chicken pandan, Chip's wife Let reminded us why we grew extra wisdom teeth. But not even the GREAT food can keep us away from the videoke machine. As I mumble "My Sacrifice," Mario takes the role of moderator and hands out the beer, moderately. After three-and-a-half bottles, Ian turns into Yoda and gives me a few words of wisdom: "fear leads to anger," "being brilliant isn't unique," "the world doesn't revolve around you," "enjoy life," "relax, loosen up, you're too serious/afraid." This "__it happens" seminar is concluded with "Most things in life we have to learn on our own." I conclude the night by kissing Dimples. On her dimple. Amen.
~
Sunday! Cary's birthday celebration brings us to the Mall of Asia, where we have a guy's day off. Still reeling from the hangover (and my freshly gypped paycheck) I act as lookout as the guys practice Mesopotamian-era pickup lines with the girls at the Information booth. We proceed to Pizza Hut Bistro, where we show off our adult communication skills by mispronouncing "linguini alle vongole." We also have triple-stuffed crust pizza. Cary almost attacks the waitress when she offered ground pepper (he thought she was about to hit him with the pepper shaker), we apologize profusely, and the Pizza Hut Bistro singers wish Cary a happy birthday (complete with ice cream, no pepper). We get in Maxi's auto and take a joyride around... and around. We arrive at Starbucks...and we leave again. We park at last at a gasoline station where we have beer and chips. We talk about conspiracies, movies, guy stuff and other nonsensical things and enjoy the testosterone in the air.
~
It has been four weeks since we started training, and now we are at the end of our theoretical-classroom training, singing "We Are The Champions" to the top of our lungs. Next week we start our on-the-job training at another building. We say goodbye to the pantry people, even the security guards...and head out into the night. The occasion: Training Celebration/Teambuilding! The song: "Broken Vow". The singing style: whatever. Karlo proves himself Videoke King as he successfully belts out boy bands, female (!) solos, rock songs and opera (!). Sometimes all in one song. With food, drinks, song-and-dance showdowns, an awards ceremony and even a "German-Amazonian torture procedure" according to Chip, we faced the future with foggy faces (the ventilation couldn't keep up with the smokes per minute) and digital cameras. As AA wakes me up early the next morning with the text message quoting Jonathan Livingston Seagull ("No limits"), I sit up and walk out of my room like Jim Caviezel in "The Passion of the Christ," facing the unknown with a knowing smile.
