Mango series 4

This morning I woke up with swollen eyes. I guessed it was caused by the foam I applied on my fringe that was getting longer. I condemn myself for not being taller that I can't keep long hair. My fringe always gives me problem. When it gets long, my eyesight is disturbed--the upper half for short distance due to the fringe, the lower half to see what is in front of me.

After three weeks enjoying my status as a tourist in Singapore, I get a job in the town council. It is a low-paid job. Nonetheless, I need something to get myself occupied, to force my brain to work, otherwise it will just rot unnecessarily.

"My name is Mango."
I introduced myself to my friends at work. (Later on, I knew that 'colleage' would be a more appropriate word to replace 'friend at work').

"Sorry?"
"My name is Mango. M-A-N-G-O."

I looked at my colleagues' perplexed faces. Perhaps, they thought Mango could only be for a fruit, and not for a person. But my name is indeed Mango, and I think it is a nice name. It is the most beautiful word for me.

"No, you didn't hear it wrongly. It may sound funny, though," I explained timidly.

To me, Mango Valentina sounds more like a name of a lady than a brand of a fruit. In some lucky years, several overseas friends sent a packet of gift for me on 14 February, thinking that I was born on the Valentine's Day. They have guessed incorrectly. I was born on the fourteenth, but not in February, but in November.