I try not to take cabs too often because, well, they cost a lot more than buses and trains. But some days, I just have no choice. My brain’s shut down at the end of the day, and I’m just not in the mood to stand two inches away from a stranger’s armpit, or be in constant danger of being elbowed in the forehead by a tall guy who’s holding on to the handrail. Things like that happen to me a lot since I’m short.

Getting into a cab, I feel, is a slightly less dangerous game of Russian roulette. You just never know what type of cab driver you’ll get. I’ve had a few who have barely showed any signs of life. They don’t greet me when I get in, they don’t nod when I tell them where I want to go and they barely make a sound throughout the cab ride.

And then there’s the complete opposite. 

One night last week, I had a cab driver who had something on his mind. Three minutes into the 20-minute cab ride, he asked me, “Have you ever heard of an egg being stolen?” As I honestly hadn’t, I answered no. He went on to say that his wife had just called him claiming that one hard-boiled egg was missing from their kitchen. That’s right, one hard-boiled egg.

I was intrigued. The story unfolded that the driver’s wife had boiled three eggs for lunch. She gave one to her daughter and then they both left to walk the daughter to school. When the wife got back, there was only one egg left. Puzzled, she called her husband to check if he had gone home and eaten it. He hadn’t.

The driver and I spent the entire cab ride discussing what could have happened to the egg. His theory was that a crow had flown in and grabbed the egg in its beak. He also thought his wife was hallucinating. Even the idea of bomohs (witch doctors) was bandied about. My practical brain told me that his daughter had taken an extra egg and neglected to tell her mum about it. Either that or mum was mistaken and had two eggs to begin with. I refused to believe there was anything weird or supernatural about a missing egg.

I never did find out the truth. I reached my destination before I could. But till today I wonder about that egg, especially since I Googled it and it turns out that crows can carry eggs in their beaks.

I’ll have you know that I can take whatever I dish out. Advice, that is. Specifically, advice from this very magazine. Even after working on Reader’s Digest Asia for over four years, I am amazed that I can still learn so much from it. It makes me understand why we have such faithful readers who have stuck with us for decades.

One of the best pieces of advice that I have taken from the magazine is from a short article in The Guide. Australian writer Josephine Brouard had written about how she realised she wasn’t spending as much time with her family and friends as she used to. So she decided to not just meet them for meals once in a while, but to have activities, like, say, going to the theatre. One of the activities she suggested struck a chord with me: a book club.

I read a lot less now than I used to. When I was a kid, my mother had to nag me to put down whatever book I was reading because I would read all the time, even while eating. My eyes were always on the book, never on the plate in front of me. She used to joke that that was the reason I’m so, err, full-bodied – because I just kept shovelling food into my mouth until I finished a few chapters. My reading habit has declined dramatically over the years so as soon as I read the words “book club” in the article, it was the proverbial light bulb moment for me. I suggested it to a couple of friends whom I meet regularly and they loved the idea.

It’s been an interesting experience so far. There are 5 of us in the group and we each pick a book and “preside” over that particular meeting to lead discussions. We’ve had a pretty eclectic mix too, from a classic like Catcher in the Rye to the first Twilight book. The idea is for all of us to, well, read more, and also to read something we otherwise won’t, like the Twilight book for me. Our next meeting, which is two month overdue because I’ve been away so much, will be to discuss A Thousand Splendid Suns. I loved it, by the way. Cried a bucket reading it.

Now, if only I can follow more of the health advice our Health Editor Debbie Lau dishes out.
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