Agent double o kahwin

“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”
-David Tennant
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For the moment:
Killing Them Softly-Dave Chappelle
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It’s either she has short term memory loss or she was being sarcastic with good intentions.
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On the way home after dinner in KL, I decided to drop by my relatives wedding (I reckon, 3rd cousin). I was still in my semi casual work clothes and sling bag. I assume half of the guests had left when I got there, circa 10.30pm. At this point, everyone was just chilling out and the men were dancing on the carpets outside the house underneath the tent where the band was playing. I did the necessary and courteous meet and greet and sat down.
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Shortly after I spot a gran aunt of mind approaching me. So I stood right up, went to her to pay my respects. 20 seconds after the mandatory opener, this is how the conversation went.
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bla bla bla

Dah kahwin?

bla bla bla

bla bla bla

Bila nak kahwin?

bla bla bla

bla bla bla

Dah kahwin?

bla bla bla

bla bla bla

Dah kahwin? Hah kat sini ada banyak. Tengok tu.

bla bla bla

bla bla bla

Bila nak kahwin?

bla bla bla

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The whole conversation was no longer than 2 minutes.

Do not comment on family pictures

“Je ne veux pas mak kau punya laki.”
-Ancient proverb

For the moment:
Night Over Manaus-Boozoo Baju

An ignorant incident. A funny story.

When I was an intern/apprentice at the Legal & HR dept of Eurocopter Malaysia (ECM), my supervisor kept on reminding me that my emails to her were always long and never understood what I said. A sentiment shared by most working adults I email. But now that I am no longer there and she has been posted to Eurocopter France, in her email she said:

… and you can write as long as you want as I would definitely enjoy your funny stories. Its okay we are not at ECM anymore.

Ever since, it has become a practice to end each email to her with a story. In her reply, she would rate the story. Below is a mass email I sent out earlier today.

“This is a story I emailed my former boss yesterday who found it extremely hilarious. This is bound to go up in the blog soon but I will share it with you now. A friend of mine told me about it 2 days ago. Here it goes…

Charmaine, here’s another story which is more on ignorance than it being funny. Its funny but I was just so shocked when I found out. In awe, my jaw drop for so long I can feel cold air on my tongue. A friend of mine has this friend studying in the States. Malaysian. Not socially skilled and some what reserved and nervous as a person. But in short, she travels and is exposed. Studying in Chicago for some time now. Has an American bf for over a year. After which he says he wants her to meet his family. So she follow him back home. I am not sure out of nervousness or bodoness or self imposed obligation to say something, she comments a picture in their home.

Who is that? Is that your dad or your uncle or someone in the family?He is so good looking.

There was silence.

It was a picture of Jesus Christ.

They broke up a month later.”

Sharp receptionist

“He who fights against a monster should take care lest he become a monster himself.”
-Nietzsche

For the moment:
Vatapa-Joao Bosco

I was at KGNS earlier for dinner and I came across the most brilliant receptionist in…KGNS.

Unsure of where the surau (musalla/muslim prayer room) was, I asked the receptionist.

She looked like a regular reasonable competent receptionist. Not the duuhhh-at-hotmail-dot-com kind. She was wearing an Ikea lime green bed sheet scarf. She had it tied in a slightly contemporary way. Black long sleeve top. Appearing somewhat fashionable.

I on the other hand, with a slightly happy psyche cause its finally the weekend. But a little drained after a long day and adjusting to the new office hour intern routine on top of staying away from home.

I was in a light lilac long sleeve shirt rolled up sleeves with my security pass still in my breast pocket attached to the neck tag and denim with converse. Three days unshaven. My colleague sold me a t shirt which I had to try on and that made the shower weaved locks of my hair go a little all over.

In short, looking all manly, sticky and scruffy.

Looking at how she was, coupled with the fact that I had already walked past her once, I skip the ‘excuse me’ and just pop her the question. “Where’s the surau?” To which she replied:

Surau, untuk lelaki?