It was a quiet, peaceful final day of the working days. Nothing much to do, and productive hours were spend on scheduling activities for awesome weekend (which will later be discovered as too much hassle to conform after succumbing to the power of fresh bedsheet). And then, along came the man in ill-fitting clothes..
He walked into the bank at 4.15, whereas the closing time is 4.30. With two healthy but bored toddlers, he demanded the bank to deposit his coins, which later sums up to RM 1,800.00. I had no choice (yes i did, but that will involve ruining my good mood to get into mouth fight with him) so I did.
I finished running the coins through the machine in 30 mins, and another 30 mins to sort them out accordingly. Throughout the duration, I didn't have the slightest will to hide my dislike of him. I didn't smile, I didn't reply him, pretending the coins machine noise was blocking his voice. The most annoying question he popped up was "Can you make it faster?" i gave him an indifferent look and monotonously said "Tunggu je la (just wait for it)". He might expressed his dissatisfaction, but it all drowned in the sound of coins dropping into their respective slots.
After he made his way out, Kak Timah came into my room. She looked concerned, and the evening all made sense after she said "that guy with plenty of coins? He's my ex-husband"
Flashback to couple of months, I once asked Kak Timah, " I admire your children. From your stories, they seems very independent. How did you educate them so?"
"Because they were abused by their father"
I chocked with horror when she told me how the bastard punched and kicked her two kids, including a baby that was almost being thrown out of the window of their apartment. She left them with her then husband for she had to attend her father's funeral back in her hometown. Upon being informed by her neighbour, she endured two 10-hour journeys in a day to get back to her children's rescue. They went their separate ways several months after the traumatic incident, and getting full custody of the children. They would not want it any other way either.
How can you appear in front of a group of people who knew how sadistic you are, bringing your wife and two kids (does the wife as ignorant as the husband? Apparently yes) all the while putting a guitless face? And don't let me get started on his clothes that desperately needs to emphasize his built. Yeah, guess that's what you got training with minors.
That day made me realised the word 'douchebags' are not meant for teenage boys wearing stereotyped clothing, it is more for person who conduct their manners without keeping in mind God's guidance and promise of punishment.
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