A very freaky morning – that’s what I had today. I was at the station to refuel my car, when a super ugly fat lady came ambling over to where I was, and asked me this

“Is it working?”

She was looking at the credit card machine at the pump when she was saying that. No she was not looking at my cock.

“Oh, the machine? I don’t know. I haven’t tried yet. I’m going to try now.”

“Well, the machine’s down. I had to pay at the counter inside.”

There wasn’t any sign or indication that the credit card machines were offline, which they usually would when that happens.

“You mean, all the machines are down? Or just the one at the pump you’re using?”

“All of them. You need to pay inside.”

“Ok, thanks for telling. But I’m going try it anyway. If it really doesn’t work, I’ll pay inside”

“No, just go pay inside. The machines are down.”

She started to get very pressing and I started to feel really annoyed.

“Ok, like I said, let me try the machine first.”

“No no no… pay inside. Just go in there and pay.”

That was when I snapped.

“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE YOU FUCKING BITCH!” and I threatened to punch her. She then dashed to her car, and took out a wooden baseball bat. I responded by prancing around with the praying mantis styled kungfu (popularly known in the elite sparring circle as ‘The Puchong Alarm Installertion’ maneuver), and that was when she foolishly charged forward with the bat. I took hold of her hand with my monkey grip and wrestled the evil bat away from her hand, and flung the damn thing away while punching her with the other free hand of mine. Then I sealed the deal with a round house kick to her skull, which knocked her out cold.

Alright, that was just some wild imagination. I obviously had someone in mind when I was writing that. But the whole thing was true up until when I got annoyed with her persistent badgering, to which, I had to reply her like SIX FUCKING TIMES, that I would like to try out the credit fucking card machine first, before she would finally leave me alone. I swear man, I was very close to yelling at her and show her what ‘The Puchong Alarm Installertion’ maneuver could do to her…

Freakiest morning I ever had. (for the record, there wasn’t anything wrong with the machine).

It was late at night. My friend and I was at this grocery store to buy some beer. The grocer was not around, so the daughter attended to us.

“4 large beer please”

The grocer’s daughter was doing her school homework when we placed the order. She had to stop whatever she was doing, and ambled towards the back of the store to fetch the 4 bottles of beer for us.

Curious on what she was doing, I took a peek at her work, and saw that she was doing some integral calculus. I checked her workings out, and it seemed to me that she was quite good at it. Her solution was elaborate, and her work was very neat. I then remarked to my friend,

“This girl totally got it. She’s going to score well.”

My friend nodded in approval. That was when the girl comes out with the 4 bottles of beer, oblivious to what we said about her.

“That will be RM48 please.”

My friend dug out a RM50 note and paid the beer with it. Girl took the RM50 note, stuffed it into a drawer and whipped out…

JENG JENG JENGGG!!

Two RM10 notes.

My friend and I froze. Girl looked at us, unable to decipher what went wrong. I hinted her about her obvious ‘fail’ in basic arithmetic by merely pointing at the wrong change, but she didn’t get it. My friend then decided to get a bit blunt,

“Eh, your mind is still filled with the X’s and Y’s is it?”

Girl finally realized the mistake, went blush, gave out a hearty laugh (she was wearing this serious look when she went to fetch our beer) and gave us the correct change. I guess if it were to be Banglas buying beer that night, the grocer will have to register a negative 18 discrepancy in the account – no thanks to her math genius daughter.

I was at Pizza Hut with my wife the other day to spend off a gift voucher we had. Halfway through our meal, a lanky Indian waiter startled us by invading our table space with his heavily pockmarked face. He was kind of half stooping in towards us wearing this faked smile and his face was just a few inches off ours (imagine my horror). I had to lean back to make myself less uncomfortable to look at him… and then he said,

Waiter: “Just want to check with you sir, did you get all your orders right? Is everything fine?”

Though annoyed with the sudden invasion, I decided to take the opportunity to feedback about the over diluted and tasteless soup.

Me: “Yes, our orders are ok. But the soup is terrible. It is too watery.”

The guy the gave us this dumbfucked look. Probably an information overload for his unprepared state of mind, because he was not programmed to handle such situation. He was only asked to check the order goddamnit! (missing pizza, missing drinks, you know… the common stuff). This is as impossible as asking him to do something about Rosmah’s bad hair style with a Kingston USB flash drive!

Anyway, he managed to stammer a shitty one liner reply (commendable effort)…

Waiter: “Errmm errrr but this is a pre-mixed soup sir and… err…”

That dumbass could have figured that by mixing in less water, the soup would be less diluted. But it was not in my best interest to educate him about the law of physics or how to mix better soup so, I couldn’t be bothered. I just said,

Me: “Whatever. Pre-mix or not pre-mix, doesn’t matter. This is just a feedback, that your soup sucks.”

That’s the whole idea of asking for feedback, isn’t it? To know what your customers feel about your food and service? So that you can make improve? Isn’t that the main objective? Apparently, the guy had no idea. After my remarks, he just froze for another short moment to process the whole thing, rotated my pizza dish about 10 degrees clockwise (yeah, fucking bizarre, I know) and went off to wipe some plates.

He could have at least go to check on the goddamn soup or something. He doesn’t even have to do anything about it, just pretend to check on it – just not to blatantly being so ignorant about it. But instead, he went to wipe some plates. Jovially. Nabeh.

I brought my 3 year old daughter to an indoor playground inside a hypermarket complex the other day. It was a pay per entry indoor playground, operated by 3 Malay ladies (escapes me why would the hypermarket need 3 headcounts for this simple work… to wrestle big mean kids when they get out of line?). The one manning the counter was with a big motherfucking nose. (Seriously, she looked like one of the Muppets with that nose. It was colossal)

Anyway, apart from that mutated giant nose, the next thing I noticed about that lady at the counter was her condescending behavior. Somehow, she must have felt really important for having that job, because when my wife queried about how much do we have to pay to enter the playground, she responded with 1 worded reply while looking at the ceiling. Most of the time, my wife and I would have chosen to walk away. But seeing that our daughter’s getting excited already, we decided to pay for the entry anyway.

After the payment, the lady with the overgrown nose whipped out a wrist tag and wanted my daughter to wear it. Because it wasn’t colorful or look cool enough, my daughter refused to wear the damn thing. But she insisted and my daughter was beginning to feel upset… That was when I decided to jump in to save my little damsel in distress… [conversation translated to English]

Me : “Does my daughter really have to wear this? It’s not like we’re going to fleece the entrance fee, right?”

Lady with big nose : “She needs to wear this wrist tag.”

Me : “What’s the rationale behind wearing the tag? So that she won’t get lost inside the playground? I can see the whole area from here.”

It was just a flimsy paper wrist tag, you can’t do jack shit with that thing. Besides, the size of the playground was only half of a badminton court.

Lady with big nose : “No, the tag’s important. She needs to wear it.”

She had this panicked look on her, because I was asking too much questions and they were overloading her micro brain, which I reckon must be located inside that big nose of hers (her head’s just full of kacip fatimah or whatever booster shit they take these days). She was unable to explain why the tag was so important, but only insisted my daughter to wear it.

Me : “Again, what’s the rationale behind this??”

She just stared back at me. She fucking BSOD’ed. I was about to ask for a refund from her nose, and but then one of her fat colleagues came to her rescue

Fat colleague : “Mister, the tag’s important because it has a time stamp on it!”

It didn’t even make any sense to me. So, if my daughter does not wear the paper tag on her wrist, the time stamp would magically disappear from the tag? I had to yell back at them,

Me : “So what difference is it going to make if I were to keep this tag in my wife’s bag, and return it when we leave the area later?? The time stamp is still there, right??”

The fat lady froze for a short moment and when everything started to make sense to her, she let my daughter in, without requiring her to wear the tag on her wrist. The big nosed lady was still looking puzzled when the fat one opened the gate (probably still couldn’t figure it out now)

You see, it is understandable that we do not need very skilled people to do the simplest of jobs. But sometimes even the simplest of jobs requires one to be reasonably sensible. Maybe just a tiny bit of common sense. But some people seem to even lack of that.

Today, I lost my shit and yelled at my daughter’s nursery principal through the phone.

It all started with the decision to stop my daughter from attending that nursery. I was trying to get back the extra 1 month deposit which I had with them, but was denied the payment on the ground that I did not give them an ‘ample ONE MONTH NOTICE’ (yeah, as if they’re running a Fortune 500 company).

But that was not in the agreement when I first enrolled Regine into that nursery a few years ago. The principal then added further that this has all along been their practice, and she needed the ‘ample ONE MONTH NOTICE’ to pay her staffs – which I thought was the most retarded excuse ever. I thought – I fucking paid an extra month as a collateral, and what has that got to do with her not being able to pay her staff? And why the fuck is that my problem now?? So I protested and gave her a piece of my mind (done in a diplomatic way of course). She eventually folded and agreed to pay me back HALF of the deposit – which I was content enough to accept (don’t ask).

That was 1 week ago. I was supposed to pick up the check today, but the principal called Emily in the afternoon and asked for the original receipt to be able to redeem our deposit. When Emily told her we lost the receipt, the principal bluntly said that our deposit will be forfeited because she needed it as a proof that we indeed paid a deposit. When Emily relaid the news to me, I lost my shit. One, because that cocksucking bitch hadn’t got the cheek to call me about this. Two, she was not sporting enough to fulfill the agreement. She acknowledged before that I had indeed paid for the deposit (it was compulsory anyway). She even admitted that she had a copy of the receipt. But she’s not giving my money back because I lost my receipt. She was obviously trying to fleece me off.

That was why I had to call the principal to straighten things up. I ditched all the formality and started to bark at her non-stop as the bitch picked up the phone. I forgot what I actually said because I was half zoned out when I was lashing at her… but from the way she stammered and countered with incomplete senseless remarks? I reckon it must be something close enough to be regarded as the darkest day of her post menopausal life. She should have seen that coming before she messes up with the biological father of the Little Samseng…

I finally got my check alright. That’s why I said ‘it is nice and rewarding to be nasty sometimes’. The principal was conveniently missing when I was there to collect the check (she got one of her staffs to pass it to me). Probably was afraid that I’m gonna jam the nursery plastic slide up her ass so high that she sees her own shit sliding out from her mouth. And oh, the amount was short of 15 bucks. Fucking cheap skate cunt.