There’s a tissue paper uncle at the hawker centre nearby who I regularly buy tissue from. He used to sell them in bunches of four with a rubber band tied around them, and he used to write four numbers on each bunch – if you were interested in getting lucky with them. At the time I thought this was a clever idea – you can see some effort being put into the ‘work’ he was doing.
He doesn’t do this anymore. It’s now the regular tissue packets, no quirky details.
Last night, as I bent down to get tissue from him there was a man telling him, “Uncle, don’t do stupid things, uncle. Cannot.” I passed him the $2 and took one packet for myself and walked away slowly. Clif and I looked back and saw that he motioned slitting his wrists and realised what the guy meant.