what gives?

Last night I was hanging out with my best mates from secondary school, Melissa and Shirlyn. After a most satisfying dinner at Sushi Zanmai, we decided to plonk down our arses at the bar of Coco Banana in Sunway Pyramid. All in all, we consumed a few whiskey & coke and 3 jugs of beer over numerous wonderful conversations.

Halfway through the evening, Melissa whispered that our drinks were paid for by a guy sitting across the bar from us. Shirlyn later confirmed it, saying that she saw the waiter removing our tab and handing it to the guy, who proceeded to take out money from his wallet to pay the bill.

Normally this is not a weird situation, for my two friends are pretty and gregarious. The odd part is that the guy never did more than to occasionally look our way and offer us some prawn fritters via the bar staff. Never even made his way to our side of the bar to say hello, nothing whatsoever. We ordered more drinks but the tab never came back. After quite a while, we noticed that the guy had left. One of the bartenders gave us a note from the guy: I assumed that he’d want to pass along his phone number in exchange for his monetary generosity.

The odder part is that the note was nothing more than some incomprehensible scratchings. Two phone numbers — both with the prefixes written clearly but he had written over the other numbers numerous times. There were 3 other words below that were scrawled pretty much the same way — unreadable. No one knew what was written, not even the bar staff.

On our part it was nice not to have to pay for our drinks. But some people really have too much money.

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