Kinokuniya (bookstore) offered a 20 percent discount to celebrate the third anniversary of its franchise at Bugis Village. This slightly alarms me because I could swear they were open in that spot in 2001. porsupah, that was the mall we found the Playful Fountain and the MOS Burger and all by your hotel; do you remember a bookstore in there? Nevertheless I took the excuse to buy that first volume of the Complete Dennis the Menace, by Hank Ketcham. I remembered, as a kid, reading old-at-that-time collections, thinking the strip used to be a lot funnier than it was (those) days, and looking through 1951-52, yes; it was a scream. The collection also has a little cloth ribbon bookmark, which is a mighty classy touch.
For supper I went to a sit-down restaurant, and got my soda and a plastic number on a tray to take and wait for my meal to be prepared. After I sat at the small table, a waiter came around and asked if I wanted him to take the tray. I was inclined to keep the tray, since it gave a couple more inches to the small, octagonal table. But he said, ``If you'd like me to remove the tray, because -- '' and I listened, interested. What would be the reason for taking the tray?
Alas, he didn't have a reason, or give one; he just stood there looking awkwardly back at me for a little while, and I gave permission to take the tray away just to get out of the uncomfortable moment. I would like to know the reason, if there is one.
Trivia: John Winthrop founded the village of Boston on 17 September 1630. Source: 365: Your Date with HIstory, W B Marsh, Bruce Carrick. (At least, he renamed Shawmut -- a name not without its charms -- after his Lincolnshire hometown this date, near as I can cross-check.)
Currently Reading: Whispers, Stuart David Schiff, Editor. Late 70s anthology of horror stories almost entirely lost on me, maybe because daytime on the equator is a bad environment in which to read horror stories, most of which seem to be set in obscure New or Old England towns on rainy evenings in the 1880s. But I think some of it is I've seen enough Twilight Zone and heard enough old-time radio dramas to spot the twist ending from about the third paragraph, and Cthulhu stories all make me giggle at the funny names. The most effective one, to me, was one about a horror fantasy artist (there's a lot of self-referential stories here, including one by Robert Bloch about Robert Bloch in therapy, that's rather fun but not horrifying) who finds weird structures in an obscure Berkshire town, and is obsessively drawn to reconstruct them in artwork for decades to come ... perhaps not coincidentally, it's loosely based on real events, according to the end notes.