Misanthropy (Yes please look that up)

One of my reasons for working at a bar was simply for the experience and "lifeskills" which you'd never be able to obtain elsewhere. Talking to one of the Filipinos doing their job attachment there, I was quite sad (yes sad, not disheartened or distressed) to find out that she didn't like Singapore or Singaporeans very much, the latter because of their attitude. She found Caucasians friendlier and nicer in general. Being the patriotic bugger that I was, I tried to stick up for my fellow countrymen, pointing out that Western friendliness was a cultural characteristic and quite superficial and that Caucasians were generally friendly to females of all races. In my mind however, I had to admit that there were many instances of the ugly Singaporean, maid abuse inclusive. Averting a trip of mental national self-flagellation, I reminded myself that ugliness came in all nationalities. The ignorant, obnoxious American. The snobbish Frenchman. The loud and spitting Chinaman. And of course, the never satisfied Singaporean.

An example of which I will now relate:

I served this Chunky Chinese (alliteration) girl with an ang moh recently. She requested to change her plate of complimentary tapas to something else and so I told her I would check with the bar if that was possible. I could also have sworn that she asked for chorizo sausages. So I checked and found out that it was possible and then brought the plate of chorizos to her companion and her. She now said that she'd just asked if she could change the tapas and did not ask for the chorizos. Well fair enough, maybe I had an attack of ben. But before I left, she asked how these tasted, were they salty? Well yeah, duh, they are sausages. I've asked stupid questions in my life before so fine, I'll forget this one but all this time, she was using this bored, condescending voice, coming out of a baba face that only an ang moh would find attractive. So off i went back to the bar and I found out what else she could change it for - Olives, Queen Olives and Assorted Mushrooms and relayed the options back to her. She then gave me that bored, indifferent look "I dunno, what would you recommend?" "Hmmm... Maybe you'd like to try the mushrooms since you don't like salty stuff?" "But the mushrooms are oily" "Well... so are the olives, you know, olive oil comes from er... olives" and I give her that side-nod that indicates I"m waiting for a reply "Hmm... I'll have the olives" Wah lao, I'm not your boyfriend, I'm not here to provide a listening ear, if you ask for a recommendation at least pay some heed to it and not subject me to your fastidious and capricious taste, not to mention your tai-tai like stupidity. It was the look that made me despise her though. That haughty non-chalence which I expect to find on the face of a fat ugly pampered cat, not a fellow human being.

But then there are always people who leave a little fuzzy feeling in my heart, like that cashier I'm terrified of but who helped me iron my shirt when it was a little too crumpled for my supervisor's liking. I'd forgotten to switch on the power to the iron, leading to my futile attempts at ironing the shirt. Ben, I know.