Archive for the ‘imaginations’ Category

December 6, 2017

BackAlley ChickenShack restaurant

So, Bill the restaurant owner of BackAlley ChickenShack hired someone from the corporate – a middle aged lady named CrookedNippleRing – to take over managing the day to day activities of his busy restaurant. One of the very first change that CrookedNippleRing introduced, was the kitchen helper’s duties.

You see, the job of a kitchen helper in BackAlley ChickenShack is not an easy one, being understaffed and all that. He had to support the chef and prepare the ingredients, procure the raw materials for planned menus and even to take out the trash (now that Arun the janitor had been fired). So CrookedNippleRing went to the chef, and the following ‘discussion’ took place:

CrookedNippleRing: “Chef, from now on, all assignments that you have for your kitchen helper, is going through me. If you need assign some chores for your helper, you’ve got to fill up this form and drop it into that box right there.”

Chef: “So what do I do with my helper then??”

CrookedNippleRing: “You no longer need the service of a helper. I’ve got a big team of people handling all your stuff from now on. *smiles* Bill will give those helpers a handsome severance package”

Chef: “WHat the fuck!? So if I want a chicken de-boned and have some carrots julienned, I gotta submit a fucking form to you now?? How’s this going to work out well for all of us??”

CrookedNippleRing: “My team will go full time processing job requests from that box. It will be a first in first out basis. The key idea is ‘streamlining’, chef. When things get streamlined, we’ll be able to quantify how much job are we wasting our resources on, and identify the critical path of the process. From there, we can drive for process improvements to increase our workplace efficiency and reduce idling.”

Chef: “Answer me bitch, if I need someone to take out the goddamn trash, I gotta fill in a form and drop it into the fucking box as well??”

CrookedNippleRing: “Yes you fill it up and drop into the box. My guys will take care of it.”

Chef: “So, how long do you reckon any shit’s going to get done around here??”

CrookedNippleRing: “Like I said, it’ll be first in first out basis. There’ll be a queue and data entry involved, but the guarantee is, every job request is going to get done within 2 days”

Chef: “2 days!! The trash is going to stink up the whole kitchen!”

CrookedNippleRing: “Well, get busy filling forms then, my dear friend.”

As a result of the ‘efficiency drive’ initiative, BackAlley ChickenShack’s staff then swelled up to 3 times the size (none of them consist of a kitchen helper), and also registered a sharp increase in office supplies expenditure. The kitchen became a big mess and there were even injuries recorded due to unregulated foot traffic around the kitchen area (revolving the form box). Frustrated with their work, all the chefs then conspired to rage-quit the restaurant, and until now, CrookedNippleRing is still setting up a task force to look into what went wrong, while the restaurant takes an indefinite hiatus from operation.

michaelooi  | imaginations  | Comments Off
January 24, 2017

Eddie the chef

Eddie has been pretty good at his new role as a chef. One day, a famous food critic made an appointment to pay the restaurant a visit for a review. Fueled by the prospects of free publicity, Bill the restaurant owner came up with an idea of serving an exotic dish as the main course… Eddie, is however, skeptical that it will work…

Eddie the Chef: “With all due respect, Bill… I don’t think it is a good idea to put something we’re not specialized in as the main course. We should stick to something realistic…”

Bill the Owner: “Like what? A cup of instant noodles? Bah! We need to take some risks in life, Eddie! This is the chance of a lifetime to make this place famous!”

Eddie: “If you have to put it that way, what can I say. But tell me, where the hell am I going to find a “bear’s paw”, let alone to cook up a good one?”

Bill: “Don’t worry, if there’s a will, there will be a way. Go check with those shady vendors at the market, they might have an idea where to look, if not supply one.”

Eddie: “Suit yourself, Bill. I’d suggest to plan out a contingency in case I can’t find a bear’s paw… Maybe one of our General Tso’s Chicken Rice…”

Bill: “There is no need for that, Eddie. Have some faith.”

Then come to a couple of days before the critic’s visit,
Eddie: “Bill, I can’t find a bear paw. We should do the chicken.”

Bill: “What do you mean? I have sent the menu to the critic that we’re going to make bear paws!”

Eddie: “What?? Why the hell did you do that?”

Bill: “That’s because I have faith in you, Eddie! Now go find me a fucking bear paw, and cook up a good one!”

Eddie: “I hope you have faith in the food critic too because he’s going to have nothing to eat that day. I quit”

And Eddie gave Bill the hardest kick to the groin, and jammed a fork into his shoulder blade…

michaelooi  | imaginations  | Comments Off
August 3, 2016

John the restaurant manager

Bill, the owner of a busy restaurant, was talking to the restaurant manager at his outlet one day to talk about a leaky pipe situation…

Bill: “So, John, how long does it take to settle this mess?”

John: “Takes time to find out where the underground leak is. Then once identified, the plumber need to hack up a part of the floor there, and install a new pipe. Could take the whole work day. And that is assuming that is the only leak. Then there’s the need to-” [Bill cuts him off]

Bill: “That’s too long. Can’t you just get more plumbers to speed it up? It’s just manhours.”

John: “Well, I can get more plumbers but the troubleshooting takes-” [Bill cuts him off again]

Bill: “No no no… if a plumber takes the whole day, then technically that job would just take a quarter of the day if we have 4 plumbers.”

John: “That’s not how-” [Bill cuts him off again]

Bill: “Just goddamn get 8 plumbers, and I expect this to be resolved in an hour from now. Now go get it done already.”

John: *picks up a ball point pen and stabs Bill in the face*

michaelooi  | imaginations  | Comments Off
May 4, 2016

Eddie the waiter

Bill, the owner of a busy restaurant, one day summoned one of his trusted waiters to his office…

Bill: “So, Eddie, how long have you been with Sticks and Bones?”

Eddie: “Close to 8 years, sir”

Bill: “8 years already? Wow! So tell me, how do you fancy for a career advancement?”

Eddie: “That’s good to hear that sir! My boys are growing up and I sure could use some of the extra cash…”

Bill: “Good… good. Before that, tell me, how do you rate yourself in terms of dishwashing?”

Eddie: “Dishwashing… sir? I… I guess it isn’t that hard to learn…”

Bill: “I like the spirit! What about cooking? You have any experience in cooking?”

Eddie: “Ermm… I don’t know about that sir… I’m not sure where this is going…”

Bill: “Ok ok, what about general cleaning and degreasing? Finance audit?”

Eddie: “W… W… What is going on, sir? Why are you asking me these questions?”

Bill: “Cost reduction initiatives, Eddie. We have to let go Arun the janitor, Lou the cook, Brad the accounts clerk and Jahangir the dishwasher. I’m retaining you because you’ve won the best employee award a year ago.”

Eddie: “But, how the hell am I able to cover all their jobs??”

Bill: “Look at the bright side, Eddie. You’ll be getting the opportunity to learn. Risk taking is our restaurant’s culture! You’ll be a veteran in no time!”

Eddie: “And you call this a career advancement??”

Bill: “If this isn’t, I don’t know what is! [megawatt smile] It comes with a raise! Seven percent! And a free movie ticket every quarter!”

And Eddie jammed a piece of paper weight into Bill’s skull, caving a big hole that spills out part of his high fat low mass brain, which in a way, making his head less aerodynamic in the airless room.

michaelooi  | imaginations  | Comments Off
November 4, 2015

story of sam

Sam is a laborer who works and lives in an old shop. Day time, he works his ass off for a meager pay and night time, he calls it a day at the upper floor of the shop, which he rented. He might not have good prospects as a laborer but, for what he lacks in wealth/achievement, he makes it up with his happy outlook in life.

Sharing his rented abode, is Sam’s wife called Hilda. While Sam is what a commoner would consider as a good looking person, the same can’t be said about Hilda. Hilda is fat, hideous and she looks like a bloated corpse fished out of a septic pond. But Sam likes Hilda for who she is (for some unfathomable reasons…), and they have led a loving life together. They’ve never had a fight before, and both of them seems to be made for each other.

One night, Sam has to wake up from his sleep to answer the big call of nature, and off he goes to the loo located at the back of the house, which is right next to the kitchen. While he is straining to ooze out the dry turd from his coarse laborer diet, up comes Hilda into the kitchen. She knocks on the toilet door,

“Honey, what’s wrong?”
“Bad food, I guess. Why are you still up so late?”
“Just checking if you’re alright… maybe I can keep you company…”

She then proceeds to get the kettle to boil some water to make Sam some hot tea. And while Hilda is waiting for the water to boil, Sam tells Hilda through the toilet door about his day and some crazy stories some of the guys told him at the shop. They share some laughs and deep inside, Sam is glad to have Hilda’s company there, and he feels homely with the smell of gas burner in the middle of the night, mixing with the hot pungent air inside the loo.

After Sam has done the last fart of the business, he wipes himself proper, pulls the flush and gets out from the loo – in high anticipation for his hot tea and perhaps, the embrace of Hilda. And then BAM! The smell of the burner disappears. The kitchen light is off. No sight of Hilda, no sight of burner, no sight of kettle. It is as if, everything has all along been a perception. Only thing that is still there, is the smell of Sam’s last fart. Confused, Sam quickly skedaddles into the bedroom to look for Hilda, and there she is – sleeping soundly with both arms up on her head, armpit hairs peeking out of her short pajamas sleeves.

“Hilda… Hilda… wake up…”
[wipes drools] “…what?… what’s going on?”
“Were you at the kitchen just now? Where’s the hot tea?”
[dazzled] “What hot tea? What are you talking about, honey?”
“I was at the loo, you were talking to me, and then you disappeared…”
“What? I’ve been sleeping here all these while honey…’

Sam quickly dashes to the kitchen to touch on the burner – it’s cold. The kettle’s cold too, and so is Sam. He suddenly realizes, that the person whom he talked to, couldn’t have been Hilda… Whoever/whatever she is, she sounded like Hilda, talked like Hilda and felt like Hilda. But it wasn’t Hilda. (Sam eventually finds out later in his life that the ‘person’ who talked to him that night, is something that came from a sad ending to a WWII incident in the very place he’s living in…)


Based on a true story happened to someone I know, at a place I am familiar with.

michaelooi  | imaginations  | Comments Off