A certain female acquaintance of mine, let’s call her Anna, cooks up a wicked chicken macaroni and cheese, and she knows how much I am fond of that particular dish of hers. So, on one fine day, she called me over for lunch and gave me the wonderful opportunity of letting me savor the magics of her culinary expertise.

It’s actually a show of gratitude for some favors I did for her in the past. Besides, both of us have been busy with stuff, so it was a good chance for us to catch up.

Halfway through the meal, we heard the roar of thunder and Anna suddenly went “Shit, shit! Fazri, help me bring the laundry inside!”. So, we rushed to her backyard where the clotheslines were and I realised why she panicked like that. Like many single working females out there, she accumulated all the laundry for the week and decided to spend the day taking care of it all in one go.

Then it started to drizzle, and there was only one laundry basket - which I let her use. Anna started to panic even more so I just grabbed whatever I could. I only have two hands, right? So some of the bigger stuff like bedsheets and blankets got slung over my shoulder, and smaller stuff like blouses and skirts got draped over my arms and because we were rushing and shit, I even had to hold on to the loose items in my hands. By the time we got inside, I looked like I just robbed a fabric merchant and just escaped the bazaar. Still with clothes draped all over myself, I sat down and was catching my breath when Anna pointed an accusing finger at me.

“What the hell are you doing?” she asked me.

“What?”

“Why do you have my bra and panties in your hands!?”

“You’re the one who asked for help with the laundry!”

“Yea, but you could’ve draped those over your arms or shoulders like everything else! Why did you have to hold on to them in your hands!?”

Sidetracking from the story a little, I have to say that Anna is quite the attractive lady. She has the face of an angelic cherub and the body of a demonic succubus. Seriously.

“Well,… you were panicking and you made me panic, you see. So I just instinctively categorised things into large, medium and small, right? Big things go over the shoulder, medium things over the arms and small things in my hands. That way I can safely and quickly pick up stuff without dropping anything, right?”

“You’re just waiting for a chance to sniff my bra weren’t youuuuu….” she said with a devilish grin, and waved a finger at me as though she was saying ‘You naughty, naughty boy!’

“What the hell? We’re already discriminating men and women, now you want me to discriminate laundry!?”

“While you’re saying that, you’re waving your arms in front your face - with my lingerie still flailing about in your hands.”

“You’re an evil woman.”

“Men are so weak.”

After laughing our heads off, we almost forgot about lunch that it went cold. I opened the windows a bit to let the cold breeze in and Anna was kind enough to reheat the macaroni. Hot pasta always tastes great in the cool air. As a result of her ridiculous accusations of me about having a fetish for her laundry, it was hard for me to focus on the conversation throughout the rest of the meal.

Why, you ask? It’s because her beautiful [and bountiful] bosoms suddenly became such powerful Weapons of Mass Distraction [aka WMD] at the dining table. It’s almost amazing how I never noticed them before this.

…

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was how I came to love the rain.