Monday, November 26, 2007

I just told my friend in a kind of matter-of-fact way, "I will miss Army in a nostalgic kind of way, but I will not find myself compelled to go back." I guess many things in life are like that. I mean, how many of us actually visit our Primary School or still love the very same thing that we loved when we were 6?

We keep moving on and on, and we never know how many times this one point on a circle goes back to the exact same position again, and even if it does, will it still be the same excitement that overwhelms your senses or flurry of emotions that pours over your mind as when you first realised you have come full circle?

I still use the kok kok phone that I have. Its model number is beyond what my memory can serve me. But it's still functional. I can call, I can text-message, I can set the alarm. I can STILL connect with people in our world. It has no camera; it can't capture fleeting moments in time. It's no 3G; the whaff and whiffs of the Net can't be enjoyed. It does not have a radio; it can't cut me off from the world on the train.

Work has been so fulfilling, and every single day, I learn something. I learn that I am someone that needs change, and to ask me to make beds for a full year would be virtual murder because I'd be dead beat and brain dead. I learn that service cannot BECOME mechanical, technical like the numbers on a computer. I learn that I can never say no to food, and I can't resist gasping at smells, tastes and sights of immaculate food presentations and arrangements. I learn that even in the sprightly hospitality, there can be exacting moments of tension, chaos and bitching behind the blinds that have been wiped more than 100 times over.

I love my job though. It's been such a long time since I've been in love, isn't it? Allow me.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

I am finally a free man. The gates suddenly opened and my emotions, baggages and hopes are all splayed in some random order at my feet.

ATEC Platoon Battle Course was the biggest bombshell that could have hit my head, and that bombshell certainky caused such a great concussion in my head - so much so that it's all etched in my mind, in a good, nostalgic, funny way. I'm glad I did it, it's over, it was wel executed, and served as an immaculate full stop to a busy month of preparation and 2 years of toil. Well done.

And now, I am a Guest Recognition Agent in the Fullerton. Starting work tomorrow, and what a jump, isn't it. From the nasty, rain-soaked foilage to a sparkling, cosy hotel, from commanding to guiding, from routine to surprises, from tears to smiles. The journey to this appointment was arduous, not to exaggerate, ok maybe not arduous but filled with its ups and downs, but I can't be any more glad when a top hotel is willing to take in an inexperienced noob like me who is at best a decent waiter, to meet and greet VIPs who will decide how good Fullerton is, whether they will be back anytime soon or whether he would spread some positive word-of-mouth.

"The hours are mad! Are you sure you can handle that?"
I take a deep breath, "Yes, I believe so. I can do anything... as long as I can feed myself."
He took a deep breath, stretched his lower lip outwards, gave a slow nod, as if digesting my explicit hint to up the terms. I can sense that he is affected by my boldness, but in a good or bad way, I can't really tell.

"How would your friends describe you?"
I was absolutely unnerved. How would I know!

"What would you do if things don't go your way?"
That question could have meant a million things! What would I do if my food tasted bad? What would I do if my pee didn't come out? It could go ANY way.

"How many rooms does Fullerton have?"
Blood froze; My body a solid in less than a second. Off I shoot, "400." I can't remember whether I answered in a tone of enquiry or simply quite pseudo- or semi-confidently declared, "400"
"Not bad.... Fullerton has 399 rooms". He did the same thing, took a deep breath, stretched his lower lip outwards, gave a slow nod.

All in all, ready to kick some good, old or new, sagging or perky, BIG FAT ASS at Fullerton.

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