AN IMPERTINENT WHIMSICALITY

It is with much reverence that papa embraced His Excellency, The Don Diego De La Vega’s deeply felt intimation of not luxuriating in, self- consolation, particularly so for papa- in his concurrent despair for whatever circumstances, that are veritably beyond his control. There is absolutely no reward to be made, whatsoever, considering his predicament as an ordinary citizen and a ‘dissolute’- dangdut, aficionado. Should he, be in a position, to effect changes, by virtue of, his ‘elevated’ position, in the consociation, his lamentations, then, could be, accepted as critical, and momentously substantive, for remediable, albeit, positive endeavors, to be inducted. However, papa’s: nondescript emplacement, as an, average component, of, the populace, together with, his quite regular ranking, as the ubiquitous, ‘man on the street,’ does not, at all, qualify him, as someone, to be heeded, let alone, be taken, seriously. The one thing, that papa, should, give enough thought, is to, shut up, and live life, as, it is, but not, withdrawing altogether, from vociferating, what is, on his, mind, from time to time. Exactly, what, he has, been doing, all, this time, in between, posts, in his, blog, describing, his, inconsequential ramblings, amidst, the multifarious, singing, and, dancing halls, in, and around, Kuala Lumpur.
However, so, the instances, whence, he ‘punches’ himself, at most times, the reason of which, could only be, to ‘bring to the fore’ his ‘impertinent’ world view, may sound, a bit, too drastic, especially, for readers, who are, not familiar, with his, style of writing. Although, not for, The Good Don, but papa, could only be very pleased, for, the uncomplicated reason, that, His Excellency, imparted, such heartfelt concerns, by, reminding papa, not to, dwell in woefulness. How kind of the Don. Even so, being sad, is actually, very remote, from, what, he was, actually experiencing- sentiments wise- that is, until quite recently.
Expecting the, ubiquitous, albeit archetypal, American accented, female voice, emanating from, the mobile company provided, answering service, when, papa called, Petite Yvette, he was, veritably astounded, when she, becomingly, answered, papa’s call. He was, the, microseconds after, truly, dumbfounded: to, the extent of, his characteristic, as, yet, innate stammering, began to emerge. Papa, relaxed, eased off, his ‘mystified’, state of mind, and, thus uttered, the much dated: “ Is that Yvette on the line? “ to which she quite tenderly declared, “yes, it is she”. She remembered him, the instance she heard his peculiarly ‘gruffly’ voice by mentioning, albeit, the bit, excitedly, “Is that Abang Zul?” Mind you, it, was not, Dato’ but Abang, notwithstanding, The Good Prince Fellow’s, unrelenting efforts, to make, known to, Yvette, the ‘spurious’, fact that, papa was, a Titled Personage, the first, time the, three, of them, were acquainted, the few, nights back.
Nevertheless, it, could be, said that, there was also the possibility that Petite Yvette saw through the whole ‘scam’. A, penetrating glance, that, veritably, ‘stripped’ papa, of any, trappings, that were, ‘attached’ onto, his person. His fake Rolex, his Kedai Kasut Yee Beng’s, Black pvc shoes, his Kamdar’s short sleeve shirt and his China imported, purchased at a General Store, in Ampang Park, Lei Deng’s, branded- dark trousers. The, fact that, most of, the items, were priced, at, the quintessential-29.99 Ringgit, threshold, excepting the, fake Rolex, of which, costs only 68 ringgit, makes- in essence- the person, papa, really, is- the aphoristic Nickel and Dime Man. But it, could not, be that, papa can sense things, Yvette was, not that, ‘diabolically’ materialistic, for he, too, can see, through her, and, from what, emanated from, deep inside, papa, was that, little Yvette, must only, be, sincere and honest. Nothing, of the, ‘dubious’ sort, Yvette, can only, be- genuine.
There, is also, the, niggling doubt, within papa, that Yvette, displayed, such ‘amiable’, representations, as a, result of, her being, deprived, of a, father figure, right, from childhood. A, much, pertinent form that, correctly should, mould, any persons, psyche, ever since, the tender years. Denied, only, by death, or, matrimonial- disputes. Papa without doubt is the ‘perfect embodiment’ of the rather elusive ‘father’ figure. What, was with, his streaks, of, silver hair, his slightly, bent back, the not so protruding paunch, weather beaten face and the characteristic, but teeny- weeny, little, bit of, a kind, of a, bowl- legged, walk.
Even so, there is, actually, no issue, here, considering, papa, as the, proverbial coward, wholesomely, near never, venturing beyond, the bedroom door, and, too old, to participate, in the, dating game, but, for golf, it is quite ok, for golf is too sublimed, in the, strict sense, of, the word, above and over, ‘love’ or even, ‘sex’, for, that matter. Tsk , tsk.
Taking, into account, that Yvette, agreed, to, a spot, of golf, when things, are not, so hectic- her exact words, papa, quite, looked forward, to, a game, with a, long lost, niece or a daughter, even, of whom, had just, recently; surfaced.