You Never Know What Your Daddy Knows

For a while now, I've taken pride in being privy to the existence of the Mitre Hotel, one of Singapore's best-kept secrets. And for the longest time, I've taken pride in knowing a lot of things my father doesn't.

Over dinner last night, I decided to put these two advantages to use in a casual jibe with my old man.

We were watching a documentary on the furniture trade in Singapore, and he seemed to be pre-empting every historical nugget that was being mentioned. So I asked him if he knew of a 140-year-old building off Killiney Road. He was rather lost at first, but then clarified if it was a big, two-storey building. He then checked if it was a hotel, and struggled for the longest time with its name before saying, "is it called Mitre Hotel?"

I laughed and laughed in denial. I laughed even harder when he demonstrated his knowledge that it was a very run-down establishment, popular with oil riggers and in its earlier years, with the British military types. At this point, I had to ask him how he was so familiar with the place.

His pithy reply: "of course! That's where I left your mum before I picked her up on our wedding day".