The Singing Neighbour

For years since I was LittLe, I have grown pretty used to hearing this man Living above my house sing, yet not knowing how he reaLLy Looked Like, and I din reaLLy bother to find out anyway.

Last evening, the guys were Leaving for home after the usuaL footbaLL session. Four of us decided to haiL a cab home to chase time for the EURO Cup match Later on. InitiaLLy we saw a cab with bLue top (signifying vacancy) from a distance at the traffic Light. It must come to us, I thought. Then as the traffice Light turns green, a hand comes waving right in front of our dear eyes, and the cab stopped for that hand.

NaturaLLy me, I cursed and swear LoudLy.

So we spent the next coupLe of minutes waiting for another. It came.

This taxi driver, he is pretty cautious. He requested niceLy for our front passenger, Daren, to put on the seatbeLt for he does not want Daren to pay for unecessary action. And so we started a conversation. He was asking which part of the street we are going to coz he stays at the same area.

And we asked him which street.

"61."

Then we asked him which bLock.

"692."

Wah, cant be that coincidentaL. I asked if his door is number 140.

"Yes!"

Oh my, I finaLLy met the man who has been singing into my ears for years.

I cannot beLieve it, neither can he. He does not recognise me, but know every name of my sibLings. It is that smaLL .. this worLd, our worLd.