The scrawny cat which bullied me lived in a hawker centre where tables were beige and seats were green. It really was a scrawny thing, probably in its teens, covered by a dull white coat of fur and random black spots. What I remembered most was the pair of pale blue eyes that conveyed its nonchalant attitude and that attitude was directed towards me.

While I was valiantly guarding the four plates of nasi briyani (the other family members went to get more food), that little squirt came out of nowhere and leapt onto the seat next to me. I did what any other young woman would do. I waved my hands menacingly at it and said "Shoo."

IT DIDN'T EVEN LOOK AT ME!

"Shoo!" with more frantic hand-waving. This time, it granted me a slight inclination of its head.

"SHOO!" with prolonged hand-waving. Right, I finally got its attention. That was when I noticed its pale blue eyes. I stared back at it and stood up, hoping that the extra height will intimidate it. Its sole reaction was to blink at me. Just one slow blink, as if asking "You think I'm scared? Pfft."

Internally, I was frothing at the mouth. While I underwent such mental anguish, the cat decided it had enough fun at my expense so it removed itself from the seat and strolled away, disappearing as fast as it appeared.

I lost. Call me loser.