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I'll Stun You, You Cinapek...with English

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!!!
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