Walao eh, Singapore nights are getting weirder and weirder, I swear. Last night at Tanjong Pagar, I was just trying to walk back to my car after a late session, minding my own business, when this absolute chaos unfolded.
I was walking past those KTV bars and restaurants when this drunk lady—definitely from China based on the accent—just lunged at me. Before I could even react, she’s clinging to my arm like her life depends on it, shouting “Lao Gong! Lao Gong!” at the top of her lungs.
The Level of Confusion
- Scene 1: I try to do the gentlemanly “excuse me, miss” thing. I tell her, “Auntie, you got the wrong person.”
- The Reaction: She doesn’t care. She’s swaying, smelling like a brewery, and looking at me with these blurry eyes like I’m her long-lost husband who went to buy 4D and never came back.
- The Escape Attempt: I managed to peel her hand off and started walking away fast. Like, Olympic power-walking speed.
Then it Got Dramatic
I thought I was clear, but then I heard this shriek. I turned around and she actually chased me and pulled my shirt. In the middle of the pavement! Then the waterworks started. Full-on, cinematic, mascara-running crying. She’s sobbing about why “Lao Gong” is leaving her, right there under the streetlights.
“WTF man, I just wanted to go home and sleep.”
People were starting to stare. You know the look—those “Is he abandoning his wife?” kind of stares. I’m standing there like a deer in headlights, thinking, Uncle hasn’t even reached 40 yet and I’ve already inherited a wife I don’t know? I finally had to do a tactical maneuver, signaled to a nearby bouncer to help her out, and bolted. Honestly, Tanjong Pagar after midnight is a different dimension. Next time I’m wearing a mask and a hat; I cannot take this kind of “unexpected marriage” anymore. Sian.