communication breakdown

Story 1:

Few weeks ago, I ordered Milo Kosong Ais. Another waiter delivered Limau Ais. Of course, I sent it back and told them MILO KOSONG AIS. Then the waiter who took the order huffily came by, holding the rejected limau ais and said, "Limau ais." I said, "Saya order MILO bukan LIMAU."

He knew he fucked up and looked frustrated and then mumbled, "Ini macam mana. Aiyo. Apa nak buat?". I looked at him and shrugged (translation: that's not my problem and bring me my damn Milo Kosong Ais). He looked around, to signal that he is busy and doesn't want to bring back the Limau Ais. I can play this stubborn game all day long. Then my client (was in a meeting actually) asked him to leave it, "Letak. Saya minum."

NOOOOOO! Now, why did my client have to do that! I wanted to win this battle! He (the waiter) screwed it up. He fix it! But of course, the waiter's frown disappeared and he happily left the rejected drink and reconfirmed my original order. Totally left me dissatisfied. I was robbed of a clear victory. *sniff*

Story 2:

Recently, I have taken a liking to teh halia kurang manis - especially lovely when the stomach is feeling angin-ny. Anyway, many masseuses have advised to consume more ginger as they always conclude that my body is a vessel of "angin". People who have had the (mis)fortune of crossing my wavy path would concur. Angin, I have plenty... especially in the head (tau hong).

Anyway, it was 3-ish pm. I was hungry and craving for some gingery goodness. At the mamak, I asked if they have pisang goreng and he said yes. So it was two pisang goreng with teh halia kurang manis. He asked if I wanted two teh halia as well. Huh? Why would I need two cups to go with two goreng pisang? Is the teh tarik XS or is the goreng pisang XXL (that I need two cups to wash it down)? I figured that he thought that I might have company. He then clarified if I was tapau-ing. I shook my head and looked for a seat.

I thought, how nice of them to fry some fresh ones for me, as I saw some pre-fried ones near the open kitchen. Another waiter appeared and left a banana leaf in front of me. Wah! Banana leaf* for pisang goreng. Boleh tahan la this mamak! 5-star service!

Then he asked, "Kari apa?"

I was baffled and told him tak mau. I guess some Malaysians have unique culinary wants. It all became visibly clear when my order arrived. Two greasy freshly-made ROTI pisang. I freaked out and quickly shook my head.

I told him, "Aiyo. Salah. Goreng pisang, bukan roti pisang."

He answered, "Ah. Pisang goreng... sana ada."

I said, "Mana tau. Sorry. Tak nampak tadi. Ingat buat baru punya."

He then swiftly took the roti pisang back (to the kitchen I presume) and brought two pisang goreng for me (on a plate). Phew! I seriously thought I would have to polish two roti pisang.

So was the waiter angry? Was he annoyed? No.

From his expression, it was more like... "Aiyo. This girl is so blur and stupid."

That, I can accept... as long as I get what I ordered.

* OK. I seriously did not find it strange when the banana leaf was in front of me BECAUSE regardless of rice or roti, they will still serve it on a banana leaf. So I thought that they serve EVERYTHING on banana leaf la!

Hot wei

Just remembered this story. A then-colleague and I were in a discussion (or maybe we were just talking crap)...

She: Eh I think that Osama is hot.

(*Blink* *Blink*... a little surprised at this sudden proclamation...)

Me: Really? How can you tell? Can't even really see his face with all that facial hair.

She: Oh. I have seen him without beard and all. He is hot.

Me: Got meh? Oh. I've only seen pictures of him with beard.

(Silence.)

(At this point, I was trying really hard to picture Osama without beard. We both continued to look at something on my table. And the old-school florescent light in her head finally flickered to life.)

She: Oh wait. What's the US president's name?

Me: It's OBAMA!

(What can I say... classic!)

Funny bone

There are plenty of airport-lounge-looking reflexology centres, which are literally at every corner in PJ. I decided to revisit one that I had been to a few months before. The centre's reflexologists are imported from China and I manage to get by each session with the important must-know Mandarin basics, in all the wrong intonation - thong (pain), na pien (there), ker yee (ok/can) and so on.

This particular one kept saying (in Mandarin), "Harder, ok." Of which, I firmly declined.

He only suggested more pressure because he said I did not have any facial reaction even when he pressed harder. Well, this "skill" comes from years of mastering the zen look even when lots of pressure is applied to my soles. Thou shall not show true feeling, even in pain.

After a few tango rof "Harunds oder? Can?", followed by an auto-reply of "No. It's Ok.", while he applied random levels of pressure, I decided that it would be in my best interest to tell him to back off, lest he feels my pain threshold needs to be challenged.

So whenever he pressed certain points that was really painful, I advised him to lessen the pressure. And he would in turn advise, that "Oh, this one the neck". Well, I went, "Har? Poo Ming Pai (Don't Understand)." So he pointed and said something which I nodded thoughtfully and turned my attention to my book, pretending to be really absorbed in it.

Later, he began massaging the calve and said, "Suan mah?". Again, hello... translator, anyone?From my blur look, he pressed my calve again and repeated "Suan". From the pain, I gathered that he meant "ache" or "tired" and quickly nodded and I swore I saw a smirk!

This fella is quite a cowboy reflexologist when it comes to reflexcation (communication in reflexology via words and action/pressure...haha). Towards the end, he innocently asked, "Ni pai sern hen tuour ah?" (You pray often?).

Strange, I thought.

I replied no and he said don't bluff. Seriously did not know what he was getting at.

And he reinstated that "Yes, you do pray a lot."

At this point, I am thinking... maybe this fella can see the spiritual aura bursting out of my holy self. I was feeling really good about this and wished that I could converse in Mandarin and ask him about this wonderful aura he might be seeing.

I smiled contentedly and then he spoke to the reflexologist-at-work next to him. Again, saying I pray a lot and then he looked at me and smiled.

THEN... he pointed to my knees. And I thought IDIOT!

See, my knees were bruised from a fall in the office (it's quite a beautiful tale of human inconsideration). And both knees had spots of bruises. This reflexologist was suggesting that I knelt so often during prayers that I have bruises on my knees!

Ass.

3's a company

Hmmm, is there some science to this? Have they conducted research and deduced that motorists need 3 traffic lights to tell them to go one direction?

These traffic lights are less than 2km from one another and are not those multi-directional types - they only direct you one way.
















turn left: beri laluan/give way.
turn right: look at one of the 3 lights, ok?

















go straight, ok?

The more, the merrier...

Yes, we need 3 traffic lights at SS2 to tell us to turn right.

A Maid

Over CNY earlier this year, a friend relayed quite a story about maids. We were talking about food and he mentioned that he would've prepared dinner, if his previous maid had not gone home aka the 'land that is largely responsible for blanketing Malaysia with haze every year'.

The replacement maid fell short, in many ways. He said that she was so very kampung and I thought how kampung can she be. Afterall, my family has had its fair share of "horror" maids, including one who chooses to do No. 1 over the longkang in the compound rather than use the bathroom or another one who happily stuffs a few pieces of clothing items into a plastic bag and throws it over the wall for the neighbour's maid to joyfully wear. This thief of a maid, we suspect is the very same one who told her fellow male citizen where the shop's counter is; for a few days after she was dismissed, my brother heard a crash on the roof and ran out of his room to discover a little hole with a leg dangling over the counter area. Not the most savvy robber and we are thankful for that, though he managed to scoot.

Anyway, back to my friend's kampung maid story. For one, it took her two weeks to learn how to open the door. So, obviously she has little or no contact with even the basics of today's houses. However, that was not the deal breaker. This was; my friend told her to get some stuff from his car boot. After what seems to be beyond the normal duration required for any retrieval of items, his helper was still nowhere to be seen. He went out to spot her standing behind the car and asks why she is just standing there. She then pointed her finger to the boot and my friend went over to see what's going on. Lo and behold, she had a finger (or maybe a few, not sure la) nicely stuck in the shut boot and she didn't even call, shout or scream for attention. She sure had some amazing powers of verbal restraint.

Special Meh-new

Beauty and The Beast - Malaysia

Ever since catching Chicago (the musical, not the band) late last year, my faith in musical shows that were brought in to Malaysia was somewhat restored. Even though I am not a fan of Chicago's songs or storyline, I have to say that the performance was simply awesome.

So when I heard that Beauty and The Beast was coming, I was simply thrilled. Tickets were purchased way ahead of time (March) for the performance on 25 June 2008. And sadly, purchasing the tickets was the only enjoyable part of the whole experience.

When we purchased the RM350 tickets online, we were allocated seats in Row U. It was somewhere in the middle of the row, with full view of the stage. These supposed good seats were 2 rows behind the AV console. The many lights and buttons were a little distracting and that's just a minor problem. The console itself was not blocking the view, but there were 2 screens (approx. the size of two 12" laptop displays placed side-by-side) that were assembled to a vertical bar. For some of us who were seated almost directly behind it, our views of the stage were almost completely blocked.

These seats should not be sold at all!!! When we highlighted this to the organiser's staff, we were quickly moved to another row. Kudos for the prompt action, but it just made an extremely bad situation to a bad one. We were moved to Row E, which was 5 rows from the stage. Sounds good right?

Well, it would've been good if the rows in front were not on the same floor level i.e. the rows were not elevated. Hence, there was a sea of heads in front of us. Imagine watching a cinema-copy of a pirated DVD. So when The Beast knelt down, all I could see was from his head up. If the cast remained upright, all I could see was from the waist-up, which is almost like catching a hand puppet show.

As for the musical itself, the magic was sorely missing. You don't feel for The Beast as you would for, let's say, the Phantom. The co-ordination/transition between the props peeps (whatever they are called) and the cast, was done clumsily i.e. the cast would've started singing and the curtains and backdrop are still on its way down. The sound was flat and wasn't timed to perfection with what was going on on the stage i.e. the music will soar SUDDENLY. No camaraderie or surge of emotion was felt in "Be Our Guest" or "Gaston".

There was lack of facial expression (maybe except for Lumiere). When The Beast was expressing his sadness, I was more occupied by how much smoke there is or how the props are twitching or how the backdrop is moving or being distracted by the shadows of the cast who are waiting at the side, for their turn to go on stage.

There was a part where The Beast kept reminding himself to be a gentleman to Belle. Well he was a gentle man all right; especially when he was fighting off the wolves in the jungle - gently tossing the wolves aside. You don't feel any ferocity or intensity in the fight scenes (including the one with Gaston at the end). They seem very "careful" of their movements on stage i.e. falling down slowly, or clutching tightly to the pillar when they are a few feet above the ground. It's ironic that the fight scenes look and felt extremely lame, to say the least.

Gaston's movements were overly exaggerated, which is fine, except that certain movements or actions seemed gayish such as skipping uncessarily in certain scenes. Gaston is supposed to be a brute, but certain body language seemed so wrong and sometimes looking like Grease. Nothing against gayness, but as Gaston the character, some actions were bordering on irritating.

The whole show was lacking in emotion. There was very little believability in their actions/acting or singing, and hence to me, the show did not have the very basic that's expected from a musical i.e. emotion.

The costumes were OK, Mrs Potts sang "Beauty & The Beast" well enough and the only thing close to magic was Chip (or how he appeared, anyway). He was on a trolley that was pushed by Mrs Potts. Only his head was visible through an oval cut-out shape in the cup. At the bottom of the trolley was the trolley's frame but you do not see Chip's body or legs or how it could've been hidden. Hmmm... interesting. Oh and there was no shaggy dog/chair, which was understandable.

So overall... it wasn't extremely bad but it wasn't good either. It barely made it to an OK level. And to top it all off, this uncle who sat beside me, LOVES to shake his legs. So when it's a happy scene (lucky thing it was towards the end), my seat would begin to shake as well and when I wanted to tell him to cut it out, he would stop. And then another happy scene comes, the same thing again. Bloody annoying!!!

Thinking back, here's a quick ranking based on the musicals that I've managed to catch - in descending order.

Excellent:
1: Chang & Eng, Les Mis, Chicago
4: Phantom of the Opera
5. Miss Saigon

OK but not worth the highest priced tickets:
6. Beauty and The Beast, Cats

Abysmal:
8. Fame
9. Grease (given the way I felt about B&TB, imagine how bad Grease must've been to be at the bottom of the rung. Grease lightning it was not.)

Beyond Stupid...

Yesterday, after a weak hour of workout, I just wanted to shower and get home to fix a quick dinner as it was getting late. So as I approached my locker, to my amazement, shock, irritation and disgust, there was another padlock on top of mine!

I thought that MAYBE it was the wrong locker and inched closer, but there's no denying that it's my locker. I opened the unlocked locker above my double locked one and there were those cina-looking plastic bags inside. So it's got to be this owner who is just so kind enough that instead of padlocking her own locker above, wanted to make sure that my locker was securely locked with her own padlock too.

So, what can I do but fume and pace up and down the entire locker room, in a futile effort to figure out which idiot is it? So there I was... stewing in rapidly increasing level of impatience, thinking of whether to get one of the staff to smash it, I walked back to the locker just in time to see this bespectabled ching-chong girl in black and white checkered shorts and collared t-shirt sheepishly (well, she better be) unlocking it. Well, of course she was thinking that it was good that the double padlocked locker owner did not witness her ultra stupidness. And so because of this ignorance, she did not apologise because I "did not witness her idiocy", even though I was standing there when she was unloading her thrashly-looking bags. DAMNIT.

OK, even IF she was near blind, COME ON! How can you miss noticing a padlock that's just so there? arrgghhhhh!!!!!

If only gyms had detectors to screen stupidity and ban these people.

Engrish Spotterd!

A typical Engrish gone wrong. Or maybe a bored sales person with a twisted sense of humour had a creative streak at work? Well, my mother and father and teachers always say give people the benefit of the doubt. That's not happening here la.

Anyway, note to self: return to pharmacy and check on other tags for the heck of it. As they say, chiak par siu eng (direct translasi - makan already, too free)

And on that note, here's a little sms I received not too long ago.

"Kisah benar ni. Thurday I went to Sg Wang to return defective thumb drive. The sales person, obviously ponteng kelas english kat sekolah and has a habit of forgetting his apostrophe, wrote this on the warranty claim form: cunt detect. Can I send this to Reader's Digest and make some money ah?"

Ahhh... am so easily amused when "Simple English" becomes "English? Simply la..."

How fast they grow...

I was only away for a week. But my oh my, how fast they have grown. How fast they can now walk and run. And when they run amok, it's almost like they are on esctacy, zig zagging across the surface to some feng-tau beat.

And as I marvel at their speed and growth, I do what comes naturally - squish and kung-fu 'em with my mighty fingers. Them silly ants...

Eewww... sewage?

Wah! so big hor!






It was a strange sight. A lorry carrying a big fat round thing. So I quickly snapped with my camera phone.
(taken in oct 06)



Then... horror... horror... so near my place...
It reads Hi Kleen Sewage Treatment System.

banyaknya.... see the water, so good breeding ground for mozzies.


After months of breeding nyamuk, the sand appears.
(taken in feb 07 )




Tried looking for info online about this system, but to no avail. So, am waiting to see what becomes of this project.