So I stepped into Fajar on its first opening day. Not to join the crowd but to assist the crowd. Yes I am a sales promoter. At the Gent's department. I have just embarked on the jouney of folding and unfolding garments, stacking them up and pulling them down. Smiling to everyone I know and don't know. I write nothing but numbers and my signature. Feel nothing but cold and soreness of feet. Yes I have to wear courtshoes from 1pm to 10pm. Wear nothing (oops!) but black pants and white shirt. And thank you very much my stock of white shirts is only limited to event tee-s, which aren't a lot, thanks to the popularity of black, which I love. But at least I have found something productive to do. It's quite a convenient way to meet friends and see rare sights. I have bumped into primary school teachers, primary and secondary school friends. I have seen men stripping and trying shirts right outside the fitting room, as they are simply too lazy to wait. I also realise that gent's clothes sell better than ladies' as women may buy clothes for men but men can seldom buy clothes for their other half or daughter cuz women are picky creatures by nature. And many men will buy clothes without even trying men. A phenomenon that rarely occurs to females. So I am spared from more folding of garments. That should be a good thing. But it also implies that i have nothing to do. That's why I decided to write my blog entry during my working hours. With left hand. To kill time. I wrote this initially on a scrap piece of paper then brought it back and transfer to comp. I shall find more creative ways to kill time since I still have yet a long way to go. Umm. signing off now.