He said that I looked like I was all set to go party that Friday after work.

I looked down at what I was wearing - long-sleeved white collared top, blue corduory pants, black heels. Very 'party' meh? Anyway, I told him that no, I'll not be making a beeline to Hard Rock after work that day, but, interestingly, to church instead.

It's quite interesting to see how people respond when we tell them about our faith.

I think the guy (one of my big bosses' chauffeur, in case you're wondering. And he's married, so don't even think about it.) must have been thinking - "Christians can have dyed hair meh?" (that's a whole debate in itself) But anyhoo, it did get him to start opening up about himself too (give someone a personal nugget, and it breaks down that invisible wall of aloofness to allow us to scratch one more level beneath the surface). And I found our conversation that day fascinating, as all conversations which allow me to get to know the person better beyond the persona that all of us project to the general public. There's a story behind every person, and sometimes, I find fact can be stranger and more gripping than fiction. Perhaps that's why autobiographies and reality shows do so well. Or maybe everyone's born kaypoh.

But I remember that when I was younger (and I still sometimes do this now), I like to stare out of the window of the bus, gaze at the passersby on the roads and wonder to myself what their story and background would be. How many children does that lady have? Does he live alone, or with his grown-up children? What kind of job does she have, and is she happy there? How many people is he supporting with his income?

Each person has a story to tell, and I find that sometimes, a genuine smile to a complete stranger can do wonders in opening the book to someone's story, one page at a time.

Or maybe, as in the case of the chauffeur, it was my heels that did it...

Or maybe, killer smile + killer heels = killer icebreaker :)