It was a welcomed rain after a hot tropical day of sweat and more sweats. Stepping out of a non-air-condition working environment, the refreshing cool air did wonders to the tired body. It's almost as soothing as a puff of cigarette after a meal - or not.
Driving home with the windows down, my hairs was dancing to the disco song from the radio, while my face was collecting mixtures of dust, dirt and moisture. A surprised find by the road side made me stop my car.
I saw one of my customers, who is also my father's friend, getting ready to mount a bicycle outside his house. Since our eyes met, I stopped my car and got out for a polite chat.
I was surprised because a bike and this man formed a picture that had never appeared in my mind as a match, like an elephant holding an iPod. I know he plays golf. But that's more of a social activity and for the excitement of the side betting. A bike just seemed "too healthy" for him.
The chat lasted for quite a while, during which he talked about the cooling fresh air after the rain; how it was really refreshing to have a ride around the neighbourhood; how cycling was preferred over jogging as it's easier on the legs; how he would be out of breath easily by jogging; how he needed more exercises as he grows older, etc, etc.
I was totally absorbed during his speech. But I only vaguely remembered what he said.
All those time during the exchanges (if you consider me nodding incessantly and uttering "uh-ha, uh-ha" to the rhythm of "That's The Way I Like It" as one end of an exchange), I was observing how he could smoke out his wise words with both his hands on the bike's handles, and never attended to the smoking cigarette dangling from his mouth.
He huffed, he puffed, he squinted his eyes, and the ashes would drop off from the cigarette as the cigarette kept bobbing when his lips moved to speak.
Finally, he mounted his bike. I waved goodbye, admiring how he could maneuver his cigarette like a natural extension from his mouth.