So, I was leaving Kelana Jaya (in PJ, just outside of KL...for those who are not familiar with acronyms, PJ=Petaling Jaya; KL=Kuala Lumpur) in a taxi that I had just flagged down. I was leaving for the airport to take the next flight home after having been interviewed by a Malaysian company for a job position in Singapore. I had actually called for a cab but twice, the cab drivers did not see me and decided to run away with other customers who flagged them down first.
Mental note - in Malaysia, make sure you have a backup plan with cabbies that you have booked.
Finally settling myself in the cab, I thought that I would just lie back and relax. This morning saw me awake at 4.30am to check-in at 5.30am to catch the 6.30am flight to KL. It was now 5pm in the evening and I was trying hard to keep awake. The ride to the airport would take about 40 mins. The Malaysian goverment had the wonderful foresight of building a world class international airport in the middle of a palm tree plantation that is an hour's drive away from the city central (I am being sarcastic here, just in case you did not get it).
The cabbie turned out to be rather chatty. Looking not a day above 30 years old, we struck up a conversation with his 70% knowledge of English and my pathetic 10% of Malay.
As we were into our conversation, I discovered the following:
- He has 1 child and 1 more kid on the way come January
- He has a wife that is a teacher
- He asks me for permission before he answers his ringing handphone (terribly polite, I must say)
- He holds 4 jobs...
Whoa...say that again?
Yup! He holds 4 jobs.
"How does that work?" my interest piquing.
"I work as an IT technician from 9am to 5pm; then I start driving taxi between 5pm onwards, you are my first customer today; then I go home and trade in forex and at the same time am an agent for pre-paid phone card sales."
Well someone hit me with a baseball bat. I must be dreaming.
Why, you might ask.
The Malays, native to most parts of South East Asia, are easy going folks. They mostly get along well with everybody both within and outside of their community. The large majority of the community is not career driven. They are, by and large, easily contented with life and promote strong family ties...not to mention big families too. In this day and age where having 2 children is a rarity, most of my Malay friends come from a family of 4 kids. And while some detractors dismiss their attitude towards life as laissez faire, I feel that the other races (especially us Chinese) have much to learn from them.
"Brother," I replied, "you put me to shame!"
He graciously chuckled at my confession.
"But why? It's great to be driven but 4 jobs?" I inquired.
"For survival lah. We have no choice. The cost of living in KL is rising so fast that I have no choice. This is the only way to survive." He said matter-of-factly.
And this is certainly true. The cost of food, daily necessities and cars are ridiculously high. In relation to the salary of a fresh graduate, we in Singapore have it much better.
With my newfound respect for him, we chatted on everything ranging from our cross straits relations; to food; to religion; and Phua Chu Kang.
As I bade him goodbye, I wished him in words that I sincerely hope turn prophetic, " Someday I will probably see your picture in the newspapers when you are nominated as businessman of the year. All the best to you, Areeza."
With that, I turned and walked into the airport terminal.
Now, if I can catch the earlier flight out...
27 December 2006
23 December 2006
Xmas Musical
A big welcome to all who are interested in getting in on the Xmas mood and atmosphere. Do join us at the Musical to be held over the next few days.If you need further directions or information, feel free to email me at tumduck@yahoo.com
Merry Xmas all!
(This invitation is applicable to those living in Singapore. If you live overseas and want to attend the musical, I am sure that the cast and crew will be extremely flattered but no, they will not provide you with a free air ticket)
21 December 2006
Santa stinks!
Ok, so everyone likes to have the perfect wedding anniversary dinner with your love one, yes?
I booked this fantastic place (or at least, what I thought was fantastic) located on a hill in Singapore. The key draw, I heard, was the spewing of 'snow' at regular intervals during the night. Yes, we pathetic Singaporeans have to resort to spewing soap suds to simulate snow, but that is another story.
I had actually gone to check out the place a week before and thought it was smashing!
Anniversary day arrives. I pick up the wife. We are making good time.
We park the car and make our way to the restaurant. On the way, we meet a Singaporean tour guide with a flag in one hand whilst blowing a whistle in his mouth. Quite the odd sight I must say.
"Can you all please gather? We cannot leave until everyone come back here. Bus will not take us home."
Some people standing around him had puzzled look on their faces. They started spewing in Vietnamese and gesticulating at tour guide. Obviously, they were his 'lost sheep' who did not understand what he was saying and he likewise, did not speak a word of Vietnamese.
We left tooting tour guide and walked on to the reception area of the restaurant.
"Excuse me, can you tell me where the ****** restaurant is?"
"Please enter from the right hand side," replied the receptionist, motioning to another 2 greeters dressed in white, standing in the wings.
"Hi, we would like to go to the ****** restaurant. Is it this way?"
"Yes, but you would have to pay an entrance fee of S$3 per person, refundable for every S$15 spent."
Huh?
I shrugged my shoulders in resignation.
"Ok, here's S$6," as I handed her the money.
"Oh, you have to pay at the reception," white dressed greeter replies, pointing me back to the receptionist.
Double huh?
I walked back to the receptionist and gave her my why-didn't-you-just-tell-me-before look.
She did not get it.
"May I help you, sir?"
I started to mentally pluck my leg hairs to divert any wayward thoughts of strangling her.
"Two entry tickets to the ****** restaurant, please."
I couldn't believe I actually said 'please'.
Start plucking left leg hairs.
Receptionist nonchalantly hands me 2 tickets.
"Please enter from the right hand side."
"Is she a robot?" I whispered to my wife.
The 2 dressed in white greeters waiting in the wings let us enter. We take the escalator to the top.
Very nice view.
At the top, some more greeters took us to our seats. Signs which said 'reserved' could be found on all the tables.
Popular location eh?
The greeter pointed us to our seats. It was the table behind one of the tables with unobstructed view of the Keppel Harbour.
"Erm, I did request for a table with a good view during my telephone call reservation. Can we have that table?" I asked, pointing to the table next to ours.
"Sorry, sir. That table has been reserved."
Triple huh?
I pointed to the 'reserved' signs on 'Nice View' table and ours.
"They both are reserved......" I prompted our greeter as I made alternating rotating motion with both hands.
Hesitant awkward moment as she processed my clue that would lead her to the million dollars.
"It's our wedding anniversary and we.........,"
We got 'Nice View' table.
Food was ordered and the night went on quite nicely. We did observe that another couple at the other 'Nice View' table were sitting with their back facing the view.
Quadruple huh?
Main course is served! Dig in......NOT!
The Wife's seafood pasta tasted nasty. The mussels, prawns and scallops all tasted the same ---- bland. The linguine was overcooked by a mile and the tomato base tasted stale.
I ended up giving my wife my tenderloin and foie gras.
Such sacrifice.
As I struggled to finish the pasta, all lights went out and the soap suds snow starting spewing to the beat of Xmas music blasting in the background.
I buried my face deep into the pasta.
Then, Santa and his angels, yes, angels, made their rounds to each table. Couples eagerly hugged Santa while having their picture taken.
Santa walks past us.
OOoohhh! The pong!
Santa stinks!
For those of you do not know what Singapore is like, think Hawaii or Jamaica weather all year round. Then think of what happens if you wore a Santa suit in the tropical climate?
All wonderful memories of Santa using Old Spice as aftershave from an old TV commercial, dissipated.
Santa really stinks!
The Wife and I bury our heads even deeper into our pasta. How could anyone hug smelly santa?
The only highlight of the evening was a great Indian waiter who was so jolly and service oriented that I just had to compliment him on his great service.
As we walked out of the reception area, we met smelly Santa moonlighting by giving out flyers to the Xmas party. The 2 greeters standing in the wings bade us farewell. I noticed 2 pairs of angel wings in the corner.
Hey! The plastic wings belonged to the greeters dressed in white standing in the wings! Talk about cost cutting!
As we walked out of the building, the wife and I thought of what a job ad for the position might read,
Greeter/Angel
===========
+female working environment
+required to point customers back to robotic receptionist
+required to be dressed in angel white
+required to don angel wings and assist sweaty Santa to take pictures with customers who for a moment, do not question why Santa has fired the elves and resorted to hiring Angels
+great personality is a plus (but if you are cheap to hire, no need any personality at all)
But let's be fair now. Not all angels have to be greeters.
I wonder if Victoria Secrets are hiring any male assistants for their Angels.....
I booked this fantastic place (or at least, what I thought was fantastic) located on a hill in Singapore. The key draw, I heard, was the spewing of 'snow' at regular intervals during the night. Yes, we pathetic Singaporeans have to resort to spewing soap suds to simulate snow, but that is another story.
I had actually gone to check out the place a week before and thought it was smashing!
Anniversary day arrives. I pick up the wife. We are making good time.
We park the car and make our way to the restaurant. On the way, we meet a Singaporean tour guide with a flag in one hand whilst blowing a whistle in his mouth. Quite the odd sight I must say.
"Can you all please gather? We cannot leave until everyone come back here. Bus will not take us home."
Some people standing around him had puzzled look on their faces. They started spewing in Vietnamese and gesticulating at tour guide. Obviously, they were his 'lost sheep' who did not understand what he was saying and he likewise, did not speak a word of Vietnamese.
We left tooting tour guide and walked on to the reception area of the restaurant.
"Excuse me, can you tell me where the ****** restaurant is?"
"Please enter from the right hand side," replied the receptionist, motioning to another 2 greeters dressed in white, standing in the wings.
"Hi, we would like to go to the ****** restaurant. Is it this way?"
"Yes, but you would have to pay an entrance fee of S$3 per person, refundable for every S$15 spent."
Huh?
I shrugged my shoulders in resignation.
"Ok, here's S$6," as I handed her the money.
"Oh, you have to pay at the reception," white dressed greeter replies, pointing me back to the receptionist.
Double huh?
I walked back to the receptionist and gave her my why-didn't-you-just-tell-me-before look.
She did not get it.
"May I help you, sir?"
I started to mentally pluck my leg hairs to divert any wayward thoughts of strangling her.
"Two entry tickets to the ****** restaurant, please."
I couldn't believe I actually said 'please'.
Start plucking left leg hairs.
Receptionist nonchalantly hands me 2 tickets.
"Please enter from the right hand side."
"Is she a robot?" I whispered to my wife.
The 2 dressed in white greeters waiting in the wings let us enter. We take the escalator to the top.
Very nice view.
At the top, some more greeters took us to our seats. Signs which said 'reserved' could be found on all the tables.
Popular location eh?
The greeter pointed us to our seats. It was the table behind one of the tables with unobstructed view of the Keppel Harbour.
"Erm, I did request for a table with a good view during my telephone call reservation. Can we have that table?" I asked, pointing to the table next to ours.
"Sorry, sir. That table has been reserved."
Triple huh?
I pointed to the 'reserved' signs on 'Nice View' table and ours.
"They both are reserved......" I prompted our greeter as I made alternating rotating motion with both hands.
Hesitant awkward moment as she processed my clue that would lead her to the million dollars.
"It's our wedding anniversary and we.........,"
We got 'Nice View' table.
Food was ordered and the night went on quite nicely. We did observe that another couple at the other 'Nice View' table were sitting with their back facing the view.
Quadruple huh?
Main course is served! Dig in......NOT!
The Wife's seafood pasta tasted nasty. The mussels, prawns and scallops all tasted the same ---- bland. The linguine was overcooked by a mile and the tomato base tasted stale.
I ended up giving my wife my tenderloin and foie gras.
Such sacrifice.
As I struggled to finish the pasta, all lights went out and the soap suds snow starting spewing to the beat of Xmas music blasting in the background.
I buried my face deep into the pasta.
Then, Santa and his angels, yes, angels, made their rounds to each table. Couples eagerly hugged Santa while having their picture taken.
Santa walks past us.
OOoohhh! The pong!
Santa stinks!
For those of you do not know what Singapore is like, think Hawaii or Jamaica weather all year round. Then think of what happens if you wore a Santa suit in the tropical climate?
All wonderful memories of Santa using Old Spice as aftershave from an old TV commercial, dissipated.
Santa really stinks!
The Wife and I bury our heads even deeper into our pasta. How could anyone hug smelly santa?
The only highlight of the evening was a great Indian waiter who was so jolly and service oriented that I just had to compliment him on his great service.
As we walked out of the reception area, we met smelly Santa moonlighting by giving out flyers to the Xmas party. The 2 greeters standing in the wings bade us farewell. I noticed 2 pairs of angel wings in the corner.
Hey! The plastic wings belonged to the greeters dressed in white standing in the wings! Talk about cost cutting!
As we walked out of the building, the wife and I thought of what a job ad for the position might read,
Greeter/Angel
===========
+female working environment
+required to point customers back to robotic receptionist
+required to be dressed in angel white
+required to don angel wings and assist sweaty Santa to take pictures with customers who for a moment, do not question why Santa has fired the elves and resorted to hiring Angels
+great personality is a plus (but if you are cheap to hire, no need any personality at all)
But let's be fair now. Not all angels have to be greeters.
I wonder if Victoria Secrets are hiring any male assistants for their Angels.....
17 December 2006
SuperMum! Thank God for them!
2 days ago, I made a trip to the eastern part of Singapore to check out the latest mega store that opened.
This particular Swedish store claimed to be bigger than its sister branch by about 2 times (this needs to be verified). And since I needed to get a new chest of drawers for the in-laws flying into town, why not check it out?
Personally, I had a baaad experience at the store. Why?
The presumably newly hired staff were not interested in doing their job. One ran away after directing me to some trolleys that were not accessible behind an enclosure.
Strange.
At the check out counter, when I requested for assistance for a particular product, the cashier replied she did not know of this product. Eying the store's internal telephone behind her, I prodded her to try using it. Her reply?
"Oh, sorry sir, I am afraid I do not have the number to contact the person in charge of umbrella racks. I only have a list that states 'Kitchen'; 'Bedrooms'; 'Living Room'; 'Accessories'......
Patience....patience....
Suddenly, she remarks, " Oh sir, I think I see someone who can help you. You see that gentleman there? Yah, just walk over there and ask him. I will wait right here for you to come back. You see, I cannot leave my counter."
How odd. There were 2 of them at the counter. I hinted this glaring fact at them.
"Sorry sir, BOTH of us cannot leave the counter. You have to walk back there and ask him yourself."
Oh well, forget it, since they do not want my business.
What happened eventually was that she finally realised what she was suggesting was a little inappropriate (like making me her assistant!) and ran over to ask him about my request.
In addition to the bad service; poor car park and road signage; and horrible food (I ate from the halal muslim food queue as it was way shorter), I just thought that it was overall just an unpleasant experience.
I carried my tray of food to find a place to sit. The only available seating was a bartop style area that looked into a play pen full of kids and toys (kudos to the company on this nifty idea where parents can eat while they watch on their kids play). Well, I guess I could settle for that.
This was when I realised that the food just tasted horrible. But well, I was hungry and the money has already been paid. Just eat lah!
As I was into my third mouthful, I saw a little altercation take place in the play pen. 5 year old girl is playing with steering wheel. 5 year old boy wants to play. Girl does not give in. A little tug and pull results. Mother of girl notices commotion and walks over to settle the situation.
But the girl does not give up.
All of us sitting around the playpen were now spectators to a potentially volatile situation. Think Israel vs Palestinians......North vs South Korea.......China vs Taiwan.
Would the USA be able to talk China out of bullying Taiwan? Would USA physically remove Israel from the Palestinian territories? Would the USA impose sanctions on North Korea?
First attempt: Dialogue
"Girl, you know that you are in a public place. This steering wheel does not belong to you. It is to be shared. Can you please let the boy share?"
"No!"
Second attempt: Expose the error
"Girl, what you are doing is selfish behaviour. This is not yours. You have to take turns and share. You have had your turn. Now, please let boy play."
"NOOooooo!"
Third attempt: Threaten sanctions
"Girl, if you do not want to share, then I cannot have you play here. If you do not let boy play, I will take you home with me now and you will not be able to play at all."
Girl screams. Stands her ground.
Fourth attempt: Final warning
"Girl, you listen to me right now. Don't let me carry you out of the play pen. Leave the play pen NOW!"
Girl gets the hint and reluctantly takes Mum's hand and walks out of the pen.
Jubilant boy takes over the steering wheel and starts playing with it. Rotates the wheel less than 10 times, and then gets tired with it and moves on to other stuff. As with all forbidden fruit, it only tasted that good until you obtain it.
I truly applaud this Mum's approach. Throughout her approach, she was calm but firm, not hysterical. Much has been debated over the way to raise kids. Asian parents tend to beat their kids into submission at the first instance of rebellion or disobedience. May not be the wisest of ways. Some will just threaten to punish their children and not follow through with their threats. Then there are parents will beat and scream at their children in public at the malls; train stations; and such, to compensate for their inability to rein in their kids.
You do sometimes wonder ---- who is more in need of the punishment.....
I need to go to bed.
*Yawn*
This particular Swedish store claimed to be bigger than its sister branch by about 2 times (this needs to be verified). And since I needed to get a new chest of drawers for the in-laws flying into town, why not check it out?
Personally, I had a baaad experience at the store. Why?
The presumably newly hired staff were not interested in doing their job. One ran away after directing me to some trolleys that were not accessible behind an enclosure.
Strange.
At the check out counter, when I requested for assistance for a particular product, the cashier replied she did not know of this product. Eying the store's internal telephone behind her, I prodded her to try using it. Her reply?
"Oh, sorry sir, I am afraid I do not have the number to contact the person in charge of umbrella racks. I only have a list that states 'Kitchen'; 'Bedrooms'; 'Living Room'; 'Accessories'......
Patience....patience....
Suddenly, she remarks, " Oh sir, I think I see someone who can help you. You see that gentleman there? Yah, just walk over there and ask him. I will wait right here for you to come back. You see, I cannot leave my counter."
How odd. There were 2 of them at the counter. I hinted this glaring fact at them.
"Sorry sir, BOTH of us cannot leave the counter. You have to walk back there and ask him yourself."
Oh well, forget it, since they do not want my business.
What happened eventually was that she finally realised what she was suggesting was a little inappropriate (like making me her assistant!) and ran over to ask him about my request.
In addition to the bad service; poor car park and road signage; and horrible food (I ate from the halal muslim food queue as it was way shorter), I just thought that it was overall just an unpleasant experience.
I carried my tray of food to find a place to sit. The only available seating was a bartop style area that looked into a play pen full of kids and toys (kudos to the company on this nifty idea where parents can eat while they watch on their kids play). Well, I guess I could settle for that.
This was when I realised that the food just tasted horrible. But well, I was hungry and the money has already been paid. Just eat lah!
As I was into my third mouthful, I saw a little altercation take place in the play pen. 5 year old girl is playing with steering wheel. 5 year old boy wants to play. Girl does not give in. A little tug and pull results. Mother of girl notices commotion and walks over to settle the situation.
But the girl does not give up.
All of us sitting around the playpen were now spectators to a potentially volatile situation. Think Israel vs Palestinians......North vs South Korea.......China vs Taiwan.
Would the USA be able to talk China out of bullying Taiwan? Would USA physically remove Israel from the Palestinian territories? Would the USA impose sanctions on North Korea?
First attempt: Dialogue
"Girl, you know that you are in a public place. This steering wheel does not belong to you. It is to be shared. Can you please let the boy share?"
"No!"
Second attempt: Expose the error
"Girl, what you are doing is selfish behaviour. This is not yours. You have to take turns and share. You have had your turn. Now, please let boy play."
"NOOooooo!"
Third attempt: Threaten sanctions
"Girl, if you do not want to share, then I cannot have you play here. If you do not let boy play, I will take you home with me now and you will not be able to play at all."
Girl screams. Stands her ground.
Fourth attempt: Final warning
"Girl, you listen to me right now. Don't let me carry you out of the play pen. Leave the play pen NOW!"
Girl gets the hint and reluctantly takes Mum's hand and walks out of the pen.
Jubilant boy takes over the steering wheel and starts playing with it. Rotates the wheel less than 10 times, and then gets tired with it and moves on to other stuff. As with all forbidden fruit, it only tasted that good until you obtain it.
I truly applaud this Mum's approach. Throughout her approach, she was calm but firm, not hysterical. Much has been debated over the way to raise kids. Asian parents tend to beat their kids into submission at the first instance of rebellion or disobedience. May not be the wisest of ways. Some will just threaten to punish their children and not follow through with their threats. Then there are parents will beat and scream at their children in public at the malls; train stations; and such, to compensate for their inability to rein in their kids.
You do sometimes wonder ---- who is more in need of the punishment.....
I need to go to bed.
*Yawn*
13 December 2006
Nasty! Tales of stool samples II
So, after having had a great dinner (cooked by none other than yours truly), The Wife and I retired to bed, looking forward to the following day.
Morning breaks. The Wife is off to work. I get up.
Crap. (quite literally)
I do need to complete my unfinished task from yesterday's visit to the doctor.
Eyeing the sample bottle in the corner, I reluctantly grabbed it and went to sit on the bowl.
Sigh.
Sometimes a man has to do what a man has to do. Even if it is crap.
The Wife often says "Poo-ing is the most wonderful part of the day, when toxins are released and you feel at ease with yourself".
She is quite the comedienne.
All right, I have taken in sufficient amounts of veggies the night before. Let's do it!
OK, the dump is released. OK, I am unscrewing the sample bottle. OK, I will attempt Option A (read about Option A in the entry before this). OK, I will.......
We have a problem.
Now, it is to my understanding that there is a certain Law of Human Wastes that attributes each person's dump to be known as a 'Sinker' or a 'Floater'. Self explanatory, right?
Mine, today, happened to be a Sinker.
NOOooooooo............
Deep breaths......deep breaths......Why me????
Just on the verge of giving up in despair, I looked in once again and spotted a renegade 'Floater'!
Option A in progress!
In order to provide some visual decency whilst walking to the doctor's with my catch, I placed the container into an all white opaque bag, like the ones the doctors give you when medicine is dispensed.
Now, I am really fortunate to live right across the street from my doctor's. This is one asset that I am really interested in getting rid off real quick.
Walking pass the bus stop, a couple of people gave my bag a cursory glance.
Ma'am, you wouldn't want to know what's inside.
Crossing the zebra crossing, the driver had to jam on his brakes to let me cross.
Lucky thing you did that, otherwise I will fling.......
We are now walking through the coffee shop front. I gave the Mixed Rice seller a quick dirty look. He has a habit of chatting up girls buying rice from him and giving very few ingredients to male customers. Perhaps, today is his day of retribution if I would just......
Next shop was the pawn shop (no.....there is nothing wrong with my spelling). Some ladies were inside claiming or pawning off their valuables. I wonder if I could get money in exchange for my gold.....
The doctor happened to be in the waiting area as I entered the clinic.
"Coming to deposit something my friend?", he eyed me with a grin.
Most definitely.
12 December 2006
Nasty! Tales of stool samples I
OK, so you've always wanted to know what really happens when the doctor asks you for a sample of your urine.
Easy.
Go to the washroom, fill at least a quarter of the bottle with pee and you should be fine.
Leave the bottle in the toilet. The nurse will discretely traipse to the loo to bag the offending item and courier it to the labs.
(point to note: NEVER, EVER CRASH INTO A COURIER/DESPATCH RIDER! Crash into a tree if you have to but NEVER, a courier/despatch riderHow do you think these urine samples get to the lab? Walk there?)
That has been settled. The urine sample is safe.
OK, now for the stool sample.
Hey! Wait a sec! No one told me about the STOOL SAMPLE!
"It's written right there in the 3rd line, sir. Yes, the line which says '...stool sample will be needed in order to detect...'."
Crap.
Right, so how do we do this?
"Very simple, sir. Just proceed to the toilet and use the in-built scoop to obtain a sample of your stool."
Hmm....the mind is an amazing thing as it wanders while it wonders.
Option A
=======
Once the dump has been dumped, get off the bowl and literally reach in for a sample (did I mention I was going to cook for The Wife after writing this blog entry?).
Option B
=======
Heck! What's Option B?
"Very well, sir. After you have wiped yourself, use the in-built applicator to obtain a sample from the recently used toilet paper."
I was tempted to ask if I should get the sample from the 1st wipe or the 3rd wipe (you know, getting a urine sample requires you collect the pee in mid-stream, not the pee from right off the blocks you know!) but I figured that keeping quiet was best.
"And oh yes, please leave the sample on the shelf in the toilet. Have a pleasant time!"
Warped sense of humour these nurses possess.
OK, I can do this. Walk to the toilet, lock the door, sit on the......you know how it works!
Right, I have released the dump. I am now attempting the 1st wipe.
Visual check.
Crap! (as if you did not already know that)
No! But really.....crap!
Question: What happens if the dump you took was a smooth one and left minimal residual on your blessed assurance (or posterior, as known to some of you)?
Don't panic! Everything is under control.
Try a second wipe.
Doh! What makes you think that a 2nd wipe will be MORE successful than a 1st wipe?
The optimist in me went for the 3rd wipe. By now, hygiene was not really big on the 'To do' list. Success will be measured by how much crap I can produce.
No pun intended there.
As I flushed, I kept wondering what kind of excuse to give the nurse.
"I got constipated"
"It got away so fast, I didn't know what hit me"
"Ma'am, you have really good sanitation systems here that sucks everything in the way"
Gingerly, I walked out of the toilet. Like a shield bearer who let his Knight down in the heat of battle, I made the walk to the counter, clutching the sample bottle.
"Noooo! Can you please leave the sample in the toilet?", came the shriek from the nurse while she flailed her arms in defense of the offensive bottle.
After reassuring her that it was empty, she collected herself and then asked the damning question, " How come there is no sample?"
Erm.....
The Wife is home. Got to start cooking dinner.
Easy.
Go to the washroom, fill at least a quarter of the bottle with pee and you should be fine.
Leave the bottle in the toilet. The nurse will discretely traipse to the loo to bag the offending item and courier it to the labs.
(point to note: NEVER, EVER CRASH INTO A COURIER/DESPATCH RIDER! Crash into a tree if you have to but NEVER, a courier/despatch riderHow do you think these urine samples get to the lab? Walk there?)
That has been settled. The urine sample is safe.
OK, now for the stool sample.
Hey! Wait a sec! No one told me about the STOOL SAMPLE!
"It's written right there in the 3rd line, sir. Yes, the line which says '...stool sample will be needed in order to detect...'."
Crap.
Right, so how do we do this?
"Very simple, sir. Just proceed to the toilet and use the in-built scoop to obtain a sample of your stool."
Hmm....the mind is an amazing thing as it wanders while it wonders.
Option A
=======
Once the dump has been dumped, get off the bowl and literally reach in for a sample (did I mention I was going to cook for The Wife after writing this blog entry?).
Option B
=======
Heck! What's Option B?
"Very well, sir. After you have wiped yourself, use the in-built applicator to obtain a sample from the recently used toilet paper."
I was tempted to ask if I should get the sample from the 1st wipe or the 3rd wipe (you know, getting a urine sample requires you collect the pee in mid-stream, not the pee from right off the blocks you know!) but I figured that keeping quiet was best.
"And oh yes, please leave the sample on the shelf in the toilet. Have a pleasant time!"
Warped sense of humour these nurses possess.
OK, I can do this. Walk to the toilet, lock the door, sit on the......you know how it works!
Right, I have released the dump. I am now attempting the 1st wipe.
Visual check.
Crap! (as if you did not already know that)
No! But really.....crap!
Question: What happens if the dump you took was a smooth one and left minimal residual on your blessed assurance (or posterior, as known to some of you)?
Don't panic! Everything is under control.
Try a second wipe.
Doh! What makes you think that a 2nd wipe will be MORE successful than a 1st wipe?
The optimist in me went for the 3rd wipe. By now, hygiene was not really big on the 'To do' list. Success will be measured by how much crap I can produce.
No pun intended there.
As I flushed, I kept wondering what kind of excuse to give the nurse.
"I got constipated"
"It got away so fast, I didn't know what hit me"
"Ma'am, you have really good sanitation systems here that sucks everything in the way"
Gingerly, I walked out of the toilet. Like a shield bearer who let his Knight down in the heat of battle, I made the walk to the counter, clutching the sample bottle.
"Noooo! Can you please leave the sample in the toilet?", came the shriek from the nurse while she flailed her arms in defense of the offensive bottle.
After reassuring her that it was empty, she collected herself and then asked the damning question, " How come there is no sample?"
Erm.....
The Wife is home. Got to start cooking dinner.
Welcome to the 'Upgraded Blog' of Paul Lim
Yes! I believe that I have been longsuffering enough with blogging with Yahoo. Afraid that it has been giving me quite a few problems. Not to mention that it is not that user friendly after all. The only thing that I appreciated about Yahoo's blogging portal was that it tracked the number of visitors to my blog (wonder if this site has the same tracking function).
Anyway, if you are feeling all nostalgic about my past entries, feel free to check it out! The link is located on the right of this page.
cheers!
Anyway, if you are feeling all nostalgic about my past entries, feel free to check it out! The link is located on the right of this page.
cheers!
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