Story 1: Dimwit Distractions
Tell me if this has ever happened to you.
You are heading to a meeting, and you are wondering — What time is it?
So you take out your phone from your pocket and tap in the passcode to unlock it.
You then notice there are five unread messages waiting to be opened.
You open the one at the very top.
It turns out that your friend wants you to send that selfie of the two of you from the hiking trip last month in Bali.
So you go to your pictures, scroll up and down looking for that one image.
As you are scrolling, you wonder to yourself — Why do I take so many useless pictures? What are all these screenshots for?
After five minutes of intense scrolling up and down, you just couldn’t find that damn picture.
Your eyes begin to get tired.
You start to resent your friend for distracting you with such a frivolous request during work hours.
Your neck is starting to ache from the tight posture.
Eventually, you give up, and you message your friend: “Look… I’ll look for it later, I gotta get back to work.”
Feeling frustrated by the distraction, you shut off the screen and put the phone back in your pocket.
The moment your phone enters your pocket, you think to yourself — Wait, what time is it?
Story 2: The Starbucks Shareloc
I was scheduled to attend a conference at one of the office towers in Jakarta. And I was supposed to meet a colleague of mine there.
This colleague was from out of town and was not familiar with the location, so I sent him a shareloc link through WhatsApp.
I arrived rather early for the conference, so I messaged my colleague saying: “I’ll be waiting at the Starbucks just outside the lobby entrance. Meet me there.”
“Noted” — he replied.
I ordered a hot Grande Earl Grey tea (with no added sweetener, and always in a mug — not in that dreadful paper cup.)
I settled myself at an empty table, took a sip of my tea, and pretended to do some important work on my laptop.
About 20 minutes later, I received a message: “Hi Alvin. I don’t see a Starbucks. Where is it?”
What I was about to reply was: “It’s about 20 meters away from the lobby. You really can’t miss it.”
But since I had just finished my tea, I decided to meet him directly at the lobby instead.
“Just meet me at the Lobby, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Noted” — he replied.
“Hi, I’m at the lobby entrance. Where are you?” — I said
“I’m standing right in front of the sliding doors of the lobby entrance.” — he said.
I became confused — because I too, was standing right in front of the sliding doors of the lobby entrance.
What’s going on here?
I looked around intensely with a sharp gaze — creepily focusing my eyes on men’s faces as they walk around me.
But I could not find him.
As if I wasn’t acting creepy enough, I asked him: “What are you wearing?”
“A dark green blazer.” He said. “You really can’t miss it.”
I looked around again, acting even more creepily this time — borderline antisocial — looking intensely at men’s faces and paying even closer attention to their clothing. (Is that dark green or dark blue?)
To the best of my discernment, there was no man wearing a dark green blazer anywhere near me.
Feeling suspicious, I opened our WhatsApp conversation from the day before, and scrolled up to the shareloc that I sent him.
My heart immediately sank.
“I’m so sorry…” — I said.
“I sent you a shareloc of the wrong building at the other side of town.”
“Noted” — he replied.
Story 3: The Graveyard Pickup
To earn some extra money, a friend of a friend of mine took up a gig as a Grab driver (that’s the Indonesian equivalent of Uber in the United States) after working hours.
One late Friday night, he received a pickup order from a young beautiful lady.
What was quite odd was this — she wanted to be picked up at a graveyard, late at night.
What would a young beautiful lady be doing at a graveyard at 11 o’clock on a Friday night? — he thought to himself.
But he accepted the order anyway, thinking — She probably got lost and needed to be picked up.
Upon arriving at the graveyard, he messaged her saying: “Hi Miss… I’ve arrived. I’ll be waiting upfront.”
The young lady replied: “Oh… can you please come inside sir? I’m standing beside burial plot 277A.”
He thought it was a strange — and slightly scary — request.
But nevertheless, he hesitantly drove into the cemetery, slowly oriented the car within the hundreds of burial plots, and parked a few meters away from burial plot 277A.
The whole cemetery was completely empty.
There wasn’t a single human being in sight.
“Hi Miss, I’m right next to burial plot 277A. Where are you?”
Minutes went by. No reply.
“Hello?” — he messaged again. “I’m already at plot 277A Miss.”
Again, silence. No reply.
His heart rate suddenly sped up. His mouth went dry. And he couldn’t help but feel very — very cold all of a sudden.
The silence became increasingly spooky. The darkness became increasingly eerie as every second ticked by.
Eventually, he could not take it any longer. He was terrified.
“Miss, I can’t wait much longer. Where are you??” — he messaged for the last time.
To his surprise, the young lady replied very quickly this time.
“Sir, I am already in the car. Look behind you.”