George and I have officially declared ourselves as anti-social. The highlight for us are weekend grocery shopping, movies, coffee in Central Market and the weekend trips. Ok, so we do go out to meet friends but honestly, our real social life activities can be counted with both hands.
We can count on the number of reasons why we just dont feel like going out. Shopping malls are pack with gadzillion people especially over the weekend. Drinks are expensive. Virgin Pina Colada can cost more than a non-virgin. Now, why is that? Try buying a bottle of mineral water in a dancing place if that doesnt give you a heart attack. Screaming kids at shopping isle. Family conference at escalators. Let’s not talk about the KL’s infamous traffic jam especially when you try hitting down town in mid day over the weekend.
Oh. Now. Talking about grocery shopping. We love grocery shopping. George gets to hunt down for his favourite cheese, chips and whatever his Canadian taste bud calls for. I like to drool over spice and oil racks and ponder on meat at the butchery. The finale would be coffee somewhere to reflect the day’s shopping experience.
That comes to our, or to be specific my recent experience in Bangsar Village recently.
Did our grocery shopping. Happy as a lark as I managed to get some good brisket and planned to do some serious experiment to make salt beef in brine. Decided to pop in to Caring Pharmacy to get some stuff. As I was trying to get to the cashier, I saw there were a already few people lining up and this rendered part of the isle towards the cashier to be blocked. I requested for the Indian gentleman in front of me to shift a little bit so that I can go out from the isle and stand behind him.
George came by to pass me some personal items and as that happened, the line moved and I shifted as well. I saw to my right a lady with a walker. She looked and sounded like an Italian. Maybe I was wrong but she certainly was not a Malaysian. Could not help to overhear her talking on her mobile.
Then the line shifted again and this time she inched her walker and tried to wedge between me and the Indian gentleman. The line shifted again and so did I. She wedged her walker again and pretended not to see me.
I finally said to her that I was there first, behind the gentleman.
She said loudly, “OHHHHHH no, no, no, no…you didnt. I was here first!” And gave me a look. I insisted that I was there first, right behind the guy.
And she raised her voice higher, accused me of being rude and wedged her walker closer.
There I was, with a splitting headache, a high BP that was 161/100 a day before, PMS-ing, and someone gave me a no, no, no complete with a look? Did she has a death wish or something?
I was not happy. I mean, I could have given her the line and pay for her items but I was not happy.
I called out for the Indian gentleman to verify and he said, “Yes, she was behind me.” I thought that was the end of this silliness. Apparently I was wrong.
Instead, this lady decided to challenge it, and her choice of path was not something that I could tolerate….She decided to say, “Oh, great. Go ahead. You people, backing up each other. See if I care!”
I turned to her. “You people?” “YOU PEOPLE??! Who are you referring to?” She was taken aback I suppose, because here is a woman, oh, excuse me, a local woman who talks back. “I just think that you are rude”, that was all she could say.
I decided not to say anything else than telling her that I did not give a rat-ass at what she thinks. I was wondering why she was here in Malaysia in the first place. If she thinks so lowly of “the people”, then she should just pack her bag and go.