Archive for February, 2017

February 20, 2017

GRAB/Uber drivers

I’ve met some of the fuckest GRAB/Uber fucks in my ride hailing experience…

1) Malay fuck who refused to use a phone holder or a map.
It was Uber. I wanted to go to the airport. The fucktard showed up on my map tracker near my pick-up point making no less than 5 u-turns around the area. I had to message the guy the street name twice (which was already stated as the pick up location), and in the end, I had to call the guy up and issued him turn-by-turn direction. He told me he was confused with the roads (that was because he wasn’t using a map). When he finally showed up, it was an Alza that was modified like it was to be burnt as an offering to some Ah Beng undeads. The trunk was full of junk, and I could only fit in 1 luggage bag (I had 2 of them). Through the entire journey to the airport, the fucker would text and hold his phone with his bare hands, and NO MAPS. I gave him a 1 star rating. I prayed to the devil for his car to explode after we left.

2) Indian fart whose car stinks to high heaven.
It was GRAB. I hailed it from Company T on a Friday noon to go to lunch. I nearly lost my appetite for lunch because the car smelled like it was filled with urinal cakes. It had festoons of flowers hanging on the rear view mirror, partially blocking the driver’s view. He drove like he was gonna get a head from his flat’s janitor if he wears his brake pads faster than he could wear off his transmission gears. He’d do short bursts of accelerations and fuckloads of brakings. Coupled with the urinal cake stench, and 350 bps loud ass Indian fighting songs, I was at the verge of regurgitating my breakfast in his car on my lunch break. I didn’t give the Indian fucker a star, he deserved none. (But he’d get that head soon from his janitor)

3) Housewife who made up her sleep time on the wheels.
It was GRAB. Hailed from a hotel lobby, but she went to the wrong hotel (illiterate?). After a few phone calls, housewife showed up with a tiny car. She whipped out a book and asked me the details of my destination like I was being interviewed. Where is it? What is the district called? How do we go there from here? I told her to use the map on her goddamn phone. She wrote something in her journal, set map and griped about the journey (it was about an hour’s ride away). Halfway through the expressway, housewife fucking nodded off and was in between her consciousness, drifting across lanes and back. I only realized she was nodding off when I noticed the drifting (I was trying to avoid eye contact lest she’d engage in an awkward conversation). I feigned a lot of throat irritation noises to keep her awake (I didn’t want to talk to her). She dropped me off on the wrong street. I fucking gave her no stars. I hope she gets constipated.

4) Fat girl whose phone gave up on her
It was GRAB. Wanted to go from Klang to Lot 10. Hailed and immediately got a message that she needed to refuel before picking me at my location. I agreed because I’m a reasonably considerate motherfucker. Her location didn’t change on the map for 15 mins, and suddenly showed up (her GPS was not working – bad omen). She was talking to herself when she drove, had sequins decorated over her windows and her phone had – from what I noticed at first – topographic patterns on the screen, but I eventually realized those were crack marks all over the screen. Her phone kept giving this weird tone, which indicated charge/discharge connection issue from the 12v phone charger. She fumbled around and reinserted the cable for a few times. Then wham! phone went offline. She fumbled for a bag, whipped out another 12v charger, didn’t work (she was doing about 70kph on the freeway with half her attention focused on fixing the goddamn phone). She then used a power bank, didn’t work either. Her phone’s dead, and she’s offline permanently. She then turned to me and asked – “do you have a preferred route? or do you want to just follow wherever I go?”. I gave her a ‘what the fuck’s that supposed to mean’ look, fired up my Waze on my phone and offered her a handheld map service for 40 mins.

5) Mat Rempit who skimps on his air con
It was GRAB again. Wanted to go to the airport with colleagues. This Mat Rempit lookalike with gay mustache and Village People shades showed up with a warm car in the hot afternoon. When colleagues complained, I cranked up the air conditioner myself, only to be stinky eyed by the driver for touching his car – probably reminded him of the days he got uncomfortably felt up by the newspaper man when his dad was away. He turned the air con back down after about 5 mins, and it was sauna in his tiny, shaky car. It was so hot in there, that my ass sweated and my sweat permeated into his fabric seat. I hope his car smells like my ass for eternity. Fucking cibai. I didn’t give him any star.

6) Creepy tomboy who was too fake.
It was UBER. From the driver profile, the name was Jimmy. When the car showed up, it was a girl with crew cut and boyish garbs (a tomboy). Tomboy looked serious and angsty, but her car audio was playing chicken ass Chinese love songs. Halfway through the drive, tomboy started convulsing violently and she took out a dildo and started flailing it at me and her head turned 360 degrees with white pupils looking totally like Evil Dead trying to eat Bruce Campbell’s ass. Alright I made that up… it’s a fucking tomboy, I fucking hate tomboys. There’s nothing to say about tomboys except that they’re posers and they don’t have dicks and they drive like shit and they have hot dyke girlfriends.

michaelooi  | experiences  | Comments Off
February 12, 2017

goal in life

Every Saturday morning, I would follow my wife to the market to buy some stuff for the week after dropping off my daughter for her extra class.

We’d frequent this vegetable stall, run by a couple in their 60s. Not only their produce are fresh, but they charge very reasonably. But the most important thing of all that makes us always go back to the stall – is the vibe.

You see, the old man, is a different kind of vegetable seller. He’s a guy who enjoys what he is doing – selling vegetables. It’s his fucking mojo. Every time I see him, he’s always jovial. He speaks loudly and clearly. He loves to crack jokes. He dispenses advice about the goodness of his merchandise like he made them himself. But then he also dispenses bullshit nonsense just to keep everyone entertained. He teases his wife, his fellow market colleagues and he teases his customers as well. Everyone seems to be happier when he’s around. He’s like a beacon in the sad dark place.

He also can speak better English than some of the managers I’ve met at Company T, and good BeeEm too. Communication is his strong trait. That’s why he gets all kinds of customers, Indians, Malays, Chinese, because everyone feels confident buying vegetables from him. There was once, we got a bag of vegetables with some pests in it, we got refunded with no questions asked. We also get freebies all the time, and the couple always welcome everyone with a laugh/smile. If there were to be an employee of the month contest going in the market, he’d win 12 times a year hands down.

So, after watching this guy for years, I begin to wonder myself – how many people actually get to enjoy their jobs like this old vegetable seller does? Not many, I reckon. Not even myself. I have not enjoyed a single shit I do since a long time ago. The best time I had, was when I worked at an advertisement workshop in Georgetown. That was the only time that made me look forward to the next working day, every day. I’d fool around with my equally foolish colleagues, and I’d crack jokes to cheer everyone up. I was poor as fuck, but I was a much happier person.

Seeing the vegetable seller living his life like this, I couldn’t help but feel envious of him and his wife – for not many people get that kind of privilege to be able to both enjoy and making a living at the same time. I am now re-evaluating everything I do, and my new goal in life is to be like this vegetable seller. I want to be able to enjoy every shit I do, and savor the remnants of what left in my time on this planet as a happier person.

michaelooi  | thoughts  | Comments Off