How I Met Cat: A Love Story Born from Spam
“It all started when I got one of those email spam.”
That’s usually how I begin whenever someone asks me how I met my wife, Cat. They’ll pause, confused, waiting for the punchline. I’ll smile, wait for a bit before I would tell the rest of the story.
Because technically—it’s true.
A Trip Back “Home”
I met Cat the year I graduated from university. My graduation gift was a free trip back to my “home town,” which, depending on who you asked, was either Singapore or Kuala Lumpur.
There was a small catch though—I had to escort my grandfather, who couldn’t travel alone.
At the time, I wasn’t allowed to visit Singapore anyway. The government hadn’t yet approved my renunciation of my Singaporean citizenship, and I didn’t want to risk becoming one of those horror stories—young men who landed for vacation only to be “reminded” that they still owed National Service.
So Kuala Lumpur it was.
It had been fifteen years since my family left Southeast Asia. Now, at 23, I was back—older, Canadian, but still trying to figure out what “home” really meant.
My uncle let me stay with him in his cozy three-bedroom condo at Brem Park, complete with a small swimming pool and the kind of humid air that instantly brings back childhood memories. Breakfast would be bright and early, usually around 6am and for the first part of the trip I would still be able to manage (later on, it would be impossible especially when one got home at 3am). I still remember trying to figure out how to call back to Toronto—dialing numbers with more zeros than I thought possible.
Wall Street Nights
My cousins Tony and Jacky still lived in KL, and we spent most nights catching up over dinner and drinks. One night, after dinner, both had separate plans and asked which one I wanted to tag along with.
I picked Jacky.
He said he was heading to a bar called Wall Street to meet some friends. Jacky worked in something fancy-sounding—foreign exchange or treasury trading. At the time, I had no idea what that meant, but it sounded cool enough.
When we arrived, I instantly felt at ease. Everyone was friendly, the kind of effortless warmth that you don’t always get growing up as the only Asian kid in a mostly white Toronto neighborhood. For once, I looked around and everyone looked just like me—and yet, I knew I stood out too. Years of Canadian gym culture had left their mark.
That’s when I met her.
Cat.
She was one of the first to come over and say hi, smiling that open, confident smile that would eventually change my life. That night became a blur of laughter, music, and JD Coke—Jack Daniel’s mixed with Coke, served in a jug. (It was my first time trying whiskey, and, as it turns out, not my last.)
A Week in Fast Forward
Somehow, Cat decided to take the rest of the week off work. We spent it together exploring downtown Kuala Lumpur, making a spontaneous weekend trip (with Tony in tow) to Pangkor Island, and later discovering—of all coincidences—that her house was literally around the corner from my uncle’s condo in Brem Park.
The week flew by like a movie montage—laughter, long conversations, meeting some of her closest friends (whom I won’t meet again until many years later) and that unspoken sense that something important was happening.
Then it was over.
My short but unforgettable summer ended, and I flew back to Toronto with my grandfather. Cat and I lost touch over time. Life moved on for the both of us.
The Spam That Changed Everything
Years passed—many, many years.
I thought of Cat sometimes, like a soft echo from a past life. Then one day, out of nowhere, I got an email from her.
Or rather—from a phishing attack that hacked her contacts list.
One of those spam messages that starts with “Hello, how are you doing today?” and ends with a suspicious link to nowhere.
But this one wasn’t just any spam—it was from her.
And that’s how it all started again.
We reconnected, caught up, and before long, that random, meaningless email became the beginning of our real story.
That is how I met your mother #ELF#
Stories to Remember 
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