First dates gone awry

First dates are always memorable experiences. However, when a first date goes awry, it becomes carved in stone in one's memory. One evening, while talking shop with my buddies, Lee Ah Boo and Siva Dass, at the Hot Legs Pub & Bistro in Sri Petaling, I mentioned that Valentine's Day was approaching. "It is always near to Chinese New Year," I said. "It's money-making time for florists and restauranteurs."

"Ah... that reminds me of my Valentine's Day date when I was footlose and fancy free," said Lee. "I had wheedled a date from a girl I had been eyeing for a long time. The rest had been planned perfectly, so it seemed. I had booked a table in advance, had placed an advance order for roses, and had bought a glittery music box as a gift."

Except for one thing, according to him. The previous day he had attended a friend's wedding and had gorged himself on curries, sambal, laksa, petai and all kinds of spicy food. The next morning, he awoke with an upset stomach, coupled with flatulence. He self-medicated but by afternoon, his condition worsened, and he had to see a doctor. Upset stomach or not, he was determined to keep his date.

That evening, he was speaking in soft tones to his date when, suddenly, he broke wind. POOOT! Not only did it sound like a bomb. It smelled like a skunk that had emerged from a garbage bin. His date covered her face with a handkerchief. Then Lee did it again. PIAAAK! Diners at the other table stared at him. His date excused herself to go to the washroom.

When she came back, Lee was trying to explain his unintentional gaffe when he burped. EERRRGGG! He also felt the urge to purge and quickly disappeared to the loo.

When he came back, his date said she wanted to go home.

"It was the doctor's fault," Lee said. "He should have told me that the medicine was to get rid of wind in my stomach."

Siva had almost spluttered the lager he had just gulped. Flashing a toothy grin, he said: "Actually, I've also had my fair share of red-faced moments in courtship."

"I was with a woman hairstylist in a hotel restaurant where there was a violinist entertaining. The woman's hair was done high up like a beehive, with streaks of glittering silver dust.

"My date said it's the latest fashion in Bollywood. I had nodded in appreciation, and added that as KL's leading hair salon operator, she must set trends.

"She had replied, 'Of course, but it's easier to follow the leader than to lead the followers.' I was impressed with her reply."

According to Siva, he and his date were leaning across the table; their eyes playing games with each other.

Eager to raise the level of intimacy, Siva beckoned the violinist to come to their table. The violinist sashayed over; he could feel something special between the couple, and bent forward, fiddling in smooth strokes, his eyes closed in concentration.

Siva added: "To my amusement, I saw the bow of the violinist stabbing holes in my date's beehive hairdo, and she was oblivious of it! Just having gulped a mouthful of wine, I stifled my laugh, clamping my mouth shut to avoid spraying the contents.

"My date screamed upon realising what had happened. The violist fled, and I got chocked, trying to avoid laughing. My date was not amused and walked off."


/end

Conned by shrewd debtor and money-changer

Miss Indera Sukumaran once regaled me with the story of her stint with a legal firm in Jalan Alor, Kuala Lumpur.

On her first day at work, Indera was asked to prepare a letter of demand to be sent to a client's debtor, a Mr Tze Chow Kah, giving him seven days to settle his trading debts; otherwise, he would be sued.

After completing the letter, Indera showed it to the firm's principal partner.

He read through the letter. "I'm afraid this won't do," he said to Indera. "It's too harsh. Tone it down."

Indera amended several words and phrases on the letter and retyped another. When shown the letter, her boss nodded his approval. "This is okay except for two misspellings," he said. "There is only one 'l' in 'swindler' and two 'o's' in 'crook.'

Indera corrected the mistakes, and the letter was duly signed and posted. A week passed but no payment was received by either the client Mr H.H. Liao or the legal firm. Liao instructed his solicitors to sue the debtor.

Indera prepared copies of a summon for filing in court. A copy was posted by registered mail to the debtor. Upon receipt of the summons, Tza Chow Kah telephoned and proposed to pay by 12 instalments. If the plaintiff, Liao, did not agree, he would engage a lawyer to fight the case.

When Indera phoned Liao to inform him of the contents of the letter, he made an appointment to see her.

Liao was a harmless man who did not hold anything personal against his debtor. "Tell my debtor that I cannot acept his proposal because of my financial circumstances," he told Indera. "I have eight children of school-going age, a wife who suffers from epilepsy and cannot work, and a seventy-year old mother who needs attention twenty-hours a day. They are expensive to maintain."

From his pocket, he took out a photograph of his wife and child in drab clothes and his mother sitting a wheelchair. "Enclose this photo with your letter. It should make him understand my situation."

Days later, Indera received a reply from Tze Chow Kah. It came in the form of a photograph of a young woman with long hair, huge eyes, a waist like that of a wasp, and breasts as big as pomelos; she was wearing a two-piece bikini and reclining on the side of a swimming pool. There was a hand-written note attached: "This is my mistress. She is also expensive to maintain."

Before Indera could inform Liao of the photograph, however, Mrs Liao phoned to say that her husband had died of a heart attack. Indera was sent deliver a wreath to the mortuary in Jalan Pudu where a wake was held.

At the mortuary, Indera found that Liao's corpse had been placed in a unsealed coffin while the deceased's family member were bustling around to prepare for the funeral.

Just then a Malay man arrived and walked up to the coffin. "Mr. Liao, you have been my friend for 20 years," he said, looking down at the corpse. "I will not betray your trust in me. Here's the money you lent me last week." He placed a one hundred ringgit note in the coffin and went away.

Moments later, the deceased's debtor, Tze Chow Kah, appeared. He saw the money in the coffin. After praying to the corpse with lighted joss-sticks, he said: "Mr Liao, here's my first instalment of five hundred ringgit."

He pocketed the hundred ringgit note left earlier. Then he wrote out a cash cheque for six hundred ringgit and placed it on the chest of the deceased. "Mr Liao, when you are cremated, and this cheque is consumed in flames, my first instalment will be considered paid. More cash cheques will be sent to you by burning them."

Tze Chow Kah left. An indian man showed up. Noticing the cheque in the coffin, he shook his head. "Ai-yo-yo... this cheque is not legal tender in the
nether world," said the man. "But lucky for you, Mr Liao, I am no longer a money-lender but a licenced money-changer. I have currency notes from all over the world, including the Other World. With that, he took the cheque from the dead man's chest, replaced it with a bundle of Chinese Hell Bank notes and left.

His parting words were: "With the favourable exchange rates for Chinese Hell Bank notes against the ringgit, you have profited tremendously, Mr Liao."


/end

Bathrooms not for hanky panky

A newspaper recently highlighted the tale of an old man who married a young Thai girl. His happiness was short-lived as a few months after the marriage, the girl fled back to her hometown in Thailand with her husband's cash and jewellery.

Curious as to why Malaysian men go after Thai lasses, I asked around, and according to my sources, it's because Thai girls are more accommodating. They treat their husbands like kings and will even bathe them.

When I told this to Madam Sumiko Taro, the part-owner of a Japanese lounge in KL Plaza, and suggested that Japanese women may have been upstaged by their Thai sisters in giving tender, loving care to their respective husbands, she was not impressed.

"But the Thai wives copied Japanese women," said Sumiko.

"Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery."

"But there are other things they haven't copied yet."

"Like what?"

"During olden days in Japan, on cold mornings, a Japanese wife will prostate herself on the floor at her husband's side of the bed so he won't have to stop on a cold floor."

"Really?"

"Yes. My mother used to do that for my father during the early years of their marriage. Later, when they could afford mats in the bedroom, it was not necessary for her to be a mobile mat any more."

Sapphire, a GRO, chipped in: "My goodness, I wouldn't do that for my boyfriend. He weighs 90 kilograms."

Sumiko said: "The husband doesn't stand on the wife. He merely rests his feet on her back."

"I still wouldn't allow my boyfriend to use me as a leg rest."

"Why?"

"We consider the feet to be an inferior part of the body as they're the lowest. To touch a person with your feet is insulting to that person. What more if that person is your wife."

"If that is true, why do some Chinese men allow masseuses to trample on their backs?"

"That's giving massage, so it's different," said Sapphire.

"Okay, what about wives bathing their husbands? Is it insulting for a wife to bathe her husband?"

"Are you referring to Thai, Chinese or Japanese wives?"

I intervened to give a man's point of view. "Chinese wives seldom bathe their husbands not because it is an inferior thing to do. The Chinese have never placed much importance in the pleasures of the bath.

"In the old days, the bathroom was always sited far away from the house. Water was stored in clay urns or cement cisterns. As the bathroom seldom had light, the water was cold and algae could often be seen at the bottom of the cistern.

"Under such conditions, the bathroom was not a romantic place for hanky panky. Chang chooi in Hokkien means 'to be hit with water.' It's zhung sooi in Mandarin. So, basically, the bathroom was a place where one cleansed onself.

"Even though long baths are common nowadays, the function of the bathroom has remained the same. When in a bathroom, bathe. For hanky-panky, there're other rooms.

As Sumiko and Sapphire suspected that I was insinuating something, they realised they had other customers to attend to. And left me to gaze into my glass of shochu.

Mind your pronunciation

A friend said I did not speak like a writer. So I enrolled in a course on how to speak well at a language centre. I had attended a preview of the course and was satisfied with the credentials of the instructor, who was a TV newscaster. There were thirty students in my class of whom all were working adults.

In the first lesson, we were asked to introduce ourselves and explain why we had enrolled for the course. Next, we were each asked to read a passage from a book. It ran like this:

"My mother went to a hotel near the Kuala Lumpur International Airport to see a friend, Mrs B. Rampa, who had flown in from Singapore. After not having seen each other for three years, they went to the hotel's lounge to chat over a few drinks.

It was early afternoon, and there were no other customers except for them and a Japanese tourist. They were each warming a bar stool and chatting when the Japanese tried to flirt with them. His face was red and obvously had had one drink too many.

He approached the two women. "Hello, can I buy you both a sake?"

"Beat it," my mother said.

Embarrassed at being rejected, the Japanese suddenly bared his teeth and muttered something in his language. Then he used foul language on the two women.

At that moment, a security guard appeared and asked the Japanese to leave. As he was escorted out of the lounge, he threatened to complain to a local Press at the rude treatment.

There was peace in the lounge again and my mother and Mrs Rampa giggled like little girls."

When one of the students, a sales manager, read the passage, it sounded like this:

"My mudder went to a hot-tell near the Kuara Lumpur International Air-pot to see a friend, Mrs B. Lampa, who had flown in from Singkapore. After not having sin each other for tree years, they went to the hot-tell's launch to chat over a few drinks.

It was early afternoon, and there were no other customers except for them and a Japanese tourist. They were each warming a bar stool and chatting when the Japanese tried to flood with them. His face was red and obvously had had one drink too many.

He approached the two women. "Harlow, can I buy you both a sake?"

"Bit it," my mother said.

Embarrassed at being rejected, the Japanese suddenly bared his tit and muttered something in his language. Then he used fowl language on the two women.

At that moment, a security guard appeared and arsed the Japanese to leave. As he was escorted out of the launch, he threatened to complain to a local Breast at the rude treatment.

There was piss in the launch again and my mudder and Mrs Lampa giggled like litter girls."

The whole class burst out laughing. Our instructor then read the passage himself and pointed out how a mispronunciation can change an innocuous word into an obscene one.

Throughout course, our lessons consisted mostly of learnng the International Phonetic Alphabet and pronouncing the consonants and vowels. Thereafter, we were taught "intonation" and "stress". When the course ended, we were each given a certificate of attendance.

/end

Women can be tough one minute, soft the next

Mrs Lucy Ling phoned me to ask whether I would like to have a new calendar and a dairy.

I said yes.

So she told me to pop over to her office to collect them.

Mrs Ling is the CEO of a company in Cheras, KL that provides security services. The company was started by her husband and she had taken over after he had died in a car crash.

The next morning when I turned up at her office, I found her and her male Personal Assistant in the backyard.

A squad of 40 security guards were standing at attention.

The P.A. was making a roll call.

As each guard's name was called, he shouted: "Present!"

After the roll call, Mrs Ling inspected each of the guards.

When she came to a guard with a paunch, she sniffed a few times and said: "What's this I smell? Liquor? Turning up drunk for work is against company regulations."

The guard retorted: "But I wasn't drinking during working hours."

Beckoning to her P.A., Mrs Ling said: "Give him a written warning. This is the second time he's drunk this week."

The guard uttered a four-letter word.

Mrs Ling got enranged. She caught him in a hammerlock. "Go and sleep your hangover off, and report to me in the afternoon.," she said.

"Aiyak... Aiyak.. I am sorry, Madam," gasped the guard. I won't drink again."

Mrs Ling released him.

Then the P.A. shouted "Dismiss" and all the guards dispersed.

Mrs Ling led me to her office and gave me a diary and a calendar.

A week later, I dropped by her condo to give her a box of cookies.

"Make yourself at home," she said. "Let me make you a cup of tea."

She went to the kitchen.

I was looking at a framed photograph of her in a karate pose when I heard her scream: "Eeek! Help!"

I rushed to the kitchen.

Mrs Ling was standing on a chair and pointing to the bottom of a cupboard.

She said: "A mouse! I saw a mouse under there."

I looked. It was not a mouse but a cockroach.



/end