The pratas were different, as was the company and the talk. Only the name Thasevi was familiar. And how "teh tarik" rolled off my tongue as I ordered it, as if it was the most natural thing to do to order teh tarik at Thasevi, and nowhere else, because it enjoys a preeminent position among all the places I’ve ordered teh tarik.
After stuffing myself with pratas and with a strange mixture of nostalgia and disgust, we drove off back home. But not before stopping at SPC to clean off the shit that was splattered all over Shiqin’s car. Driving back, there was idle speculation about condoms of quantum sized thickness, although the driver smartly warned of the undesirable consequences of quantum tunelling. We all laughed, and then I froze at the preciousness of laughing at quantum tunelling and quantum thick condoms. Oh the sheer geekiness. Of course, with an amused industrial engineer in the front seat, an electrical engineer at the wheel, and a quantum physicist, also professor-in-waiting, in the backseat, it was just waiting to happen, the industrial engineer merely playing the part of the audience with the requisite physics 2 module to laugh along at any geeky gems that might come along. Ooh, it was priceless.