Kings’ right hand in the the office is relocating back to Singapore to be with her widowed mum. 6 months after her application, the bank has now come thru with full relocation package…
T’s dedication in the market is legendary. Once, she called my husband at 3.30am.
“I can’t get out of the building.”
Dealing rooms are secure areas because you could technically go in and sell the whole bank away on all those computers that have market and counterpart access. So in some places your passcard no longer automatically works after a certain time (say, midnight) – you might need to inform Security beforehand you’ll be working late. Or apply for round-the-clock access, at which point you still need to sign in and out.
T couldn’t call thru to the late night security guard at the front desk to let her out. Kings responded: “Call for a pizza. Security will have to unlock the doors for the delivery guy.”
If not for T, Rockstar and I would see her boss a lot less at home. He would have far less time for anything else in his life.
Rockstar: “Who’s that man hugging Mummy?”
I’m just saying.
So somewhere between her new sofa arriving and the movers packing up all her things in the next two hours, I scramble to take her to lunch near her tiny studio apartment in Sheung Wan.
Thru the winding, hilly streets lined with apparently haphazardly erected high-rises the cabbie goes… Sheung Wan is kind of on the outskirts of Central, great if you work grinding office hours…
I’ve never eaten here… Denizen of Central Itself, or As Far As I Can Get From It, that I am… T tries to phone for a reservation, but on short notice she can’t quite call thru to the restaurants she wants…
“Let’s just try our luck, there are so many restaurants here,” T enthuses.
Then, “I rarely eat here haha. Even though I live here.”
We get turned down at several places, or else the wait time for a table to become available is too long…
Just as the situation looks bleak, we see lots of office people pouring out of this lift in the middle of what looks like a building vacated for heavy renovation… (Then again, anywhere you look in Hong Kong, you’ll find something or other under construction)
Oh look, on the other makeshift wall, a list of open restaurants…
“Oh, no reservation? Sorree….”
But I took this picture anyway… Right in the middle of Construction Boulevard the old lift covered with plastic and plywood so workers don’t scratch it opens up onto this nice litle restaurant reception area…
We’re in luck! One floor up, this place has a table!
We will ignore the fact it is also about 1.15pm, when early lunchers are starting to get back to the office, and count our blessings…
We’ll take anything, the movers are coming in an hour…
It’s a great lunch, and the company is great-er.
Then the movers call and it’s back out on the street we go…
“I bought flowers from here a lot,” T reminisces… There’s goldfish and DVDs too, but I don’t ask. T is on the phone again, and simultaneously flags me a cab.
SEE YOU IN SINGY SOMETIME, T… ENJOY YOUR BRAND NEW APARTMENT- AND WE STILL HAVE THAT WAKEBOARDING TO DO…!
