SMS

I used to laugh whenever I read articles that cautioned against sending emails or SMSes to unintended parties. I thought, that could never happen to me, I'm young and nimble and quick-minded, it's only the elderly who can ever do something like that.

And the horror stories that abound really do chill you. You've probably heard of the disgruntled worker who sent a vulgarity-laden tirade against the boss, to the boss. Or the daredevil Casonova who's called the right lass by the wrong name.

Yes, I've had the distinct pleasure of finding out myself, just how much your skin can crawl, how much your spheres can shrink, when you really do make a mistake like that.

The first time it happened was when I was at a group outing with a girl I once loved. The thing was, another girl (whom I was on good terms with) she particularly disliked was there as well. In a moment of extreme folly, I sent a semi-flirtatious SMS to the friend, thinking to tease her on her dressing that day.

And as I sent it, I told myself, 'Na, Hanting, don't be stupid and send it to the wrong person ah. Just think of what she would do to you. Don't be stupid. Don't be stupid.'

Was it my fault that their names were just two letters away from each other in my phonebook?

The moment I saw the SMS going to the wrong number I freaked. I know, I should have kept cool, then fenced off the resultant outpouring of fury with a sauve and debonair attitude. 'Aiya, just to see whether you will get jealous la' could probably have saved the day.

Oh, but I was so young and inexperienced then. When I freaked, I did a mad little dance around, clutching and squeezing and contorting my phone, in the vain hope that the outgoing electronic signals would somehow jam. My face went into Botox mode. I began to gurgle.

The best part was, when the beep on her phone came through, she looked at me and asked what was wrong. She then said, and I remember thinking then then that on the bright side we'll get to see how strong our relationship was,

"Why are you so excited? Ok ok, I know you've sent me an SMS already, I'll read it now."

Sometimes, nowadays, when my thumb wavers over a keypad, about to press the Send button, the scars still tingle. Honest.

A favourite story I like to relate about my BMT days, in fact, bears a close resemblance to my own personal tragedy. There was this guy who was on the phone every single night for hours on end, but he just simply refused to come clean with us and tell us about his girlfriend. According to him, he was just updating his mum on his day.

We thought hard about it. If he was lying to his army brothers, he deserved what was coming to him. If he wasn't lying, and really was talking to his mum while smiling like an idiot and giggling like a schoolgirl, then, well, by general standards of morality, he deserved it all the more.

One night, we waited until he left the bunk, then sped to his phone. We checked to see who he was calling every night, and promptly switched the number under that name with his mum's number. The dastardly deed done, we replaced his phone as we found it, and sat back to watch.

A nauseatingly cloying goodnight SMS and the relevant reply later, we watched a Jekyll/Hyde transformation unfold. It's memories like that which make Army worthwhile.

(On hindsight, we tarnished a good friendship, with only a barrel of laughs in return for it. On the balance of things however, seeing that our world is sullen and gloomy enough as it is... it was probably worth it.)

I've since learnt a lot. For instance, that there are situations in which you purposely make a mistake like that... but that's another post, another day. Suffice to say that while the uninitiated make mistakes, and the experienced avoid making them, only masters turn mistakes into opportunities.

Lastly, if you're in a relationship and you think both of you can't get any stronger, test it with a little boo-boo as described above.

If she doesn't stop hitting you after ten minutes, be warned, there's still room for improvement.