Ann Ang

1. BIOGRAPHY

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  • an excerpt from Bang My Car

SELECTED PROSE

an excerpt from Bang My Car

WHAT I do and how I do I don’t need to tell you. But this fella also too much. Bang my car, my head hit the dashboard, splain my wrist, my finger hook the signal stick.
Veli good. Don’t need to do anything, hazard light also come on.

Boom. Someone hit the side of my car. Some man wave at me to come out.

Hammer you then you know, I want to say. I come out. Basskeet, the side of my Honda like squashed bread. At the back, people horn, more people horn. No more paint, no more signal light. What they want, just overtake, right? 

“Uncle, hello, uncle!”

Like hell man, your uncle. Hit my car with your car, then bang with your hand, still dare to Speak Good English.

I walk over to him: this sort of fella, sure one kind. Spectacles, three o’clock on Wednesday can wear polo-tee and drive around. Uno, I sixty year old, I still give tuition. This sort of people you cannot give way to. You doan know how smaht they are. Last time I PE teacher, the student scared, smaht one also scared.

“Oi, hello!”

Now he think I cannot speak English.

“Chee-kit”

Noe he even us his ai-phone to take foto of my car, not for toto number obviously, his kind so rich.

“You need to compensate me for the damage.”

He point at his BM-dubew. Wah, actually the damage quite bad.

I say, “No, no, not my fault.”

“You hit my car.”

“Your car also got hit mine.”

“If you don’t pay up, I’m calling the police. And my lawyer.”

Nineninenine, he press.

“I tell you wad.”

“Don’t come any closer.” 

“I tell you wad to do,” I say louder, “We settle.”

He scared, I know. Last time my student, big muscle, use four letter word, stand outside the school and smoke, but I know they scared. Like how this fella got too many insurance policy, too much money to lose. Inside the car lucky got no pregnant wife. I try to be nice, talk to them.

“I tell you wad to do,” I say.

I pat his back. He knock me down.

Other car stop. Cyclist stop, Lory stop. Of course must stop, in front the car never move what. Then people also must stop: too much, man. Suddenly policeman come on motorcycle. Kao liao.

“Sir, that man hit you?” he ask.

I din say anything. I just lie down there. Tio liao!

I tell you wad: actually is my car bang his car. 

© Math Paper Press

by Ann Ang
from Bang My Car (2012)
published by Math Paper Press

 

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