Therein lie amongst us, people who drive big, swanky cars, swagger around in their power suits at 11.45pm in 7-11 and accessorizing themselves with beautiful, leggy women who possess manners deserving of a kangaroo. Oh, and buying two cartons of milk amidst three bottles of coke and half a dozen cans of beer.
Anyway, I went out to get emergency (I am prone to this, believe you me) breakfast for my kids in 7-11. I was dressed in the most deplorable combination of clothes possible which could pass me off as a student who stole out of the house without her parents’ permission. Fake Crocs, large black-rimmed glasses, messy hair, creased t-shirt from twenty years ago and a pair of shorts that wasn’t at all flattering. Hey, did I mention it was 11.45pm?
You see, the combination of clothes could have contributed to the fact that a cinapek thought nothing of me….like I was thin air or a lingering midst of ghost hanging around the counter. I could have been screaming at the cashier, he would have neither seen nor heard me.
While I was making a choice between the banana cake, orange cake and the chocolate vanilla bun vs. the corn bun, the silence of the night shattered when a couple entered the outlet.
The following conversation ensued and it transpired in Cantonese.
Man: Aiya, you should have asked him to *toot* off when he said he couldn’t come. It shows that he is not interested. Don’t bother with him next time.
Woman: Yeah, but he did us a favor the last time so, I don’t think we should be calculative this time.
Man: F**K him lah. He’s a minion, anyway. Grab that milk, honey.
I didn’t know that I’ve involuntarily entered a race to the counter because by the time I reached there and placed my selection on the counter, a tall woman walked up behind me. I almost smiled at her….then something sort of BUMPED me to the side.
The man literally (I am not kidding here….I know I like to exaggerate but this is not the time) placed his selection on the counter next to mine, counted my items and announced that he had less items. I stood grounded.
Shove me again, you marderfarderer!!, I dared him mentally.
And he did. And I faltered. That SHITFACE shoved me again!!
I swear it felt a lot like having a stun gun shoved up my ass! I just couldn’t believe it and turned to the woman. She was also mildly shocked….both of us sort of stared at each other for a while. The man instructed the cashier, ‘Count this one first,’ he boomed pointing to his stuff.
OK, I’ve heard a lot about how bad the world is turning out to be and he was maybe a head taller than me, and double my width. Counting my chances of battling him to the ground, I kept silent and blinked, blinked, blinked.
I decided that what the heck, if I can’t win him in the game of push and shove, I’ll stun the fucker back.
I turned around and looked straight at him, put on my best African-American accent and said very loudly, ‘Yo, brother! You’re fucking welcome, man!’ Actually, I was being sarcastic but what do ah-bengs know about sarcasm anyway, right? I surprised myself with how good I sounded. All that movie-watching had paid off, man! Here’s the advantage of looking neither Chinese, Indian nor Malay. I look sorta anything in between and BEYOND.
I wanted to flail my arms around ala Notorious B.I.G. but I didn’t have the time to mentally rehearse that routine and was afraid that I would look like a flailing duck, so I meekly decided against it.
I might as well have spoken to him in Swahili or Korean or…..English! He looked at me with an expression that I can only describe as……mystified. The questions floating in his head…..gosh, must have been along the lines of…..
• Was she talking to me?
• Was she talking in Cantonese? It sounded English.
• Was she talking in Mandarin? It sounded Swahili.
• Was she talking in Korean? It sounded Japanese.
• Was she talking in Japanese? It sounded British.
• Was she talking me in AUS-fooking-TRALIAN? It sounded AME-fooking-RICAN.
I think that stupid Cinapek fella is still wondering if I am welcoming him to Malaysia or welcoming him to America/Australia/Britain/Europe or was simply dissing him. I kept quiet while paying for my stuff but issued a warning to the cashier, ‘See the man again, punch the farking alarm system!’
Hee hee hee….nah, I didn’t say that. But I did tell him, “Next time, when someone comes to the counter first, serve that person first”. This is a cashier that I meet often (did I mention that I need emergency breakfast very often?) and he’s never seen this side of me. But I think it’s about time he does because he’s got to know that……
SHOVE ME AGAIN, YOU SHIT-ASS-FACE AND I’LL STUN YOU AGAIN WITH GOOD OLE BLOODY…..ENG-MOTHERFARDERING-LISH!!!
I have been doing this pose, part of Cosmic Dance (a type of yoga, I am assuming), called Stargazer pose without knowing it is called Stargazer's pose a lot in the past. You see, sometimes, I don't follow the rules and come up with my own stretches and poses. It is fun. I have on some music, nice, soothing music or just anything I can click on. Then I go with the flow, letting my hair down. Just moving to the music...and that is when I come up with the above Stargazer's pose. This pose really stretches your sides. Keep your eyes on the outstretched hand if you are keeping it pointed to the top, as if you are waving or connecting to a higher energy from the Universe. Your arms will ache a little but hey, toned arms, here you come! :-) For those who want a bigger stretch, it is safe to slowly and gently move the lifted hand towards your back...don't overdo it, listen to your body's complaints and respect it. You don't have to prove anything to anyone, reme...
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after my initial 3 minutes of non-stop laughing-till-tears-squirt-and-almost-peed-in-my-pants, i actually wanted to stand up and reslute-tabik-spring you.