I was at this food court ordering yong tou foo. You know what is yong tou foo, right? You should. Anyway, after I have picked my choice of stuffed goodies, I got to the part when I was suppose to tell the guy my selection of soup – which was either the conventional one, or tomyam flavored. I wanted tomyam so, I told the guy –
“I would like the soup to be tomyam please.”
The young Malay chap who was manning the stall gave me this emotionless stare when I told him about my tomyam preference. He did not acknowledge, nor did he show any sign that he heard me so, I repeated my request –
“Errrmm hello? I want my soup to be tomyam flavored.”
Again, no response. I wasn’t very impressed but, I decided to cut him some slack you know, maybe he is a guy of few words or something. So, I thought I’d just wait and see what happens. And indeed, the guy prepared my soup without adding the tomyam stock in it, and my order came out wrong, just as I expected it would. I was pissed of course, because I never liked my yong tou foo plain. It’s either tomyam for me, or never. To compromise is totally out of the question. That was why I had to bitch to him –
“Haven’t I already told you a couple of times just now that I want the soup to be tomyam flavored??”
He looked at me like I was stupid or something, again, with no reaction or whatsoever. It was as if… he could not understand a word I said…
“Hey! Can you hear me?? I – WANT – TOMYAM [point point]. This is not tomyam.”
Then suddenly, an old Malay biddy materializes out of nowhere and started yelling at me –
“Mister, please calm down! We only add the tomyam stock into your soup later on!”
The fucking bitch was obviously trying to lie out of the mistake the young chap did. She then scooped a spoonful of raw tomyam stock (paste) into my soup and gave me a ‘See?’ expression. I wasn’t happy about that of course…
“Are you for real?? I thought you’re suppose to boil the soup with the stock! I’ve never seen anyone prepare tomyam like this!”
The bitch rudely replied, while the retard stood there still with that dead look on him –
“Well, that’s our way of preparing it.”
“What a bunch of bullshit. And then this guy, is he deaf or something??”
Then came the shocking truth –
“Yes, he is indeed a hearing impaired person. Please show some respect to people like him. If you want something, talk to me.”
She had me in the balls. I felt guilty as shit. I didn’t expect that guy to be a hearing impaired person. How would I know? He looked just like the many dickheads in the food court manning a counter. And there wasn’t any sign on him saying that he is a hearing impaired person and I should fucking forgive him even if he deliberately kills my dog. Fuck. I hate it when people exploit for advantage with someone else’s disabilities.
And who in their right mind would put a hearing impaired person to man a counter, and taking orders from customers? This is as ridiculous as putting a mute person to be a phone technical support, or a Down syndrome tard to drive a Formula 1 safety car. It just doesn’t make any fucking sense. That fucking bitch, she ought to be put to sleep for all these.
But I decided put the matter to rest, for I am always at the losing end simply because one of them is a disabled person. No matter what the argument is, the outcome will always be the same – that I will be seen as a scoundrel who fucking screamed at a disabled person because I do not like my tomyam, so what’s the point really? I apologized to the unscrupulous duo and left the stall to eat my odd tasting yong tou foo in raw tomyam stock, and swore to never patronize that stall ever again. Ptuiii!