Central Banking is for Good People

One of the FAQs I get when discussing my job is whether everyone in MAS is a goody-two-shoes scholar. I always agree (with exception of myself, of course). And I mean it quite literally: I genuinely believe that the people who work in our central bank really are a smart bunch, brains-runneth-over and drippeth-out-of-thy-ears sort of folk.

Yesterday, I learnt that aside from being so damned smart, the females in our central bank are also damn bloody guai. It's either that, or they're all bona fide Oscar winners. If the Pope ever decides to purify his flock of priestly queers, he'd be well pleased by the standards that MAS women set. Their fleeces are white as snow and they'll burn nuns at the stake for excessive indecency.

So a day ago we had this meeting which towards the end culminated in a brief but intense gossip session regarding a certain male individual in the Ministry of Money (there were 5 women at the meeting, and only 2 men - gossip was inescapable). During the session, one colleague recounted how this fella, during an earlier meeting, had gesticulated in a vulgar manner whilst trying to enunciate a point.

It could've been the way she hesitated before uttering the phrase 'vulgar gesture' - a masterful enslavement of all tension in the room, condensed into two words and primed to go off like a block of C4 duct-taped with a thousand ball bearings. Or perhaps it was the mere notion of vulgarity itself - an alien object, quintessentially taboo, inserted into an environment of purity and innocence of minds. Regardless of what it was, sirens went off, klaxons flashed blue-red - call the riot police! - and every female went berserk in the quest to sate her primeval instincts for gossip.

I exaggerate, of course. But you know me, I like it.

Very quickly (you know how efficient females are when it comes to prying out gossip), our colleague was forced to recount the circumstances under which this 'vulgar gesture' emerged. I'll spare the details - suffice to say that at the end of it all, the description had graduated from being a 'vulgar gesture' into a 'suck cock gesture'. This was met with gasps, hands flying to cover open mouths, and - this was the killer for me - numerous questions of-

Get this-

"What is the suck cock gesture??"

The other male colleague and myself, we gaped. There was no hiding it. And all I could think of was 'Surely, surely you know what suck cock gesture is right?!' SURELY RIGHT, I MEAN, COME ON PEOPLE - DON'T ACT BLUR MAN.

For the remainder of the session, I covered my face with my notes. Even after the discussion - as we were dispersing in the directions of our various offices - I was continually pelted with questions from the girls on what the 'suck cock gesture' was. I grimaced instinctively, my face a mask of dismay. How to respond man.

Some of these ladies are married, somemore. How man, you tell me, how. No pleasure left in this world lah, like that.