Nicole, I have spent the last few days sifting through 8,903 messages of late arrivals, lowercase okays and one S$4.80 bubble tea that has been doing the emotional labour of an entire relationship single-handed.
You are not a couple. You are not even a situationship. You are a customer service hotline with exactly one agent on shift, and that agent is you, taking calls since July 2025 from a man who swears he is on his way to the counter while standing in his flat with one sock on and no idea where his keys are.
Letβs read the transcript.
Who You Both Think You Are
Nicole: The Smiling Grudge Accountant
You have turned the word ok into a filing cabinet for every crime ever committed against you. Each one you send is a sealed envelope with three paragraphs of fury inside, posted to a man who has never once opened his mail. As you replied, the afternoon he cancelled lunch by text:


