Batman was busking on the promenade.
His name was Najib too.
‘Not related to the PM,’ he says, showing my disappointment.
He doesn’t meddle in politics.
‘I’m busy enough keeping everyone safe on the promenade.’
He had plastic armor around his torso and really looked like Batman.
‘I make my own costumes,’ he says.
He’s test running his outfit for an event the next day.
‘Making sure none of the armor fulls off when I do my meanest Batman flex.’
He also has a friend in Australia. A sculptor who I had zero interest in.
Najib’s a real action hero figure.
I just can’t get over it.
I pull up a father and a son from the crowd and tell them to pose for me.
Then I pay Batman 5 Ringgit.
‘It’s the least I could do,’ I say.
I’m wired on coffee and sugar. It does pretty weird things to me.
Batman doesn’t know if he I’m a speedfreak or someone just taking the piss out of his costume.
There’s Darth Vater and Cop standing next to him.
Over the pedestrian bridge, which was built three months ago (modeled on Bamboo bridges) is another Batman.
He wants to know what Najib looks like so I show him a few photos.
‘Do you like my costume,’ he asks.
Quite good, it’s got cushioned pads to make his chest look muscular.
But the headgear is a bit amateurish, I say, compared to Najib’s, which hugs his nose and shows the outline of his prominent nose clearly.
The bridge is swaying.
I’m walking faster.
I’m muttering to myself, ‘the Bridge is falling.’
I tell Najib about the other batman.
‘I knew there was another one, but we have never met. I think I might invite him to join our group.’
He said he wasn’t interested. Having a prime position at the end of the bridge, he was happy being the lone crusader for one Ringitt a photo.
That took the air out of Najib.