Bad Service

I always hate buying food from middle-age stall owners.

They are usually grumpy-looking, snort at your unusual order and they never fail to forget your order 3 seconds after you've placed it.

Seriously, a law should be imposed to ban people within 40 to 50 years of age. Okay, perhaps an age limit would be too restricting and not all people within this range are kao bei people as it is usually those who are undergoing menopause who will give me attitude problem. And I thought "attitude" is a characteristic exclusive to the yougner generation.

I have two bad experiences already with two fucking grumpy middle-age women and one fucking grumpy man who instead of working out her flabs on her arms, thighs and abdominal regions, choose to work on their facial muscles by frowning since it takes 43 muscles to frown and 17 to smile.

And surprisingly, all the stall owners are from the same franchise store, albeit at different locations.

Their bak chor mee is probably the best in Singapore, and the stall owners all know that, judging from the queue and the number of people gobbling thier bak chor mee at surrounding tables in the kopitiam, and that they would have no problem of not having any business.

But seriously, what's so difficult to smile? Okay, if you hate smiling for the fear of deepning your crow's feet, could you at least give us an adequate service? Look, I don't even ask for an outstanding service, all I want is "adequate service".

Ask for your order in a not-so-aggressive tone, remember it (if you have bad memory, at least jot it down legibly somewhere) and pass the correct message to the one preparing the food.

It's not rocket science to remember this sequence, right? I mean, even my 8 year-old cousin can do a better job at serving guests with drinks during Chinese New Year than you serving customers for a living.

My first experience with the grumpy uncle, obviously, was not pleasant. He certainly didn't annoy me as much as the other two women (whom I will talk about later) but nevertheless his unfriendliness is probably one of the three factors that contributed to the 30th placing in the recent Reader's Digest World's Biggest Real-Life Courtesy test, which assessed 35 cities on the citizen's courtesy.

I asked for bee tai mak, to which he coldly replied, "没有"

Emotionless and expressionless, and he certainly did not look at me with his eye.

I doubt that my features are so hideous that he can't bear to look at me for one more second to reply that "No, we don't have bee tai mak."

And for the subsequent visits, he is forever wearing a frown.

A year later, his stall flopped while other neighbouring stalls are still thriving.

My second encounter with this short, plump and grouchy auntie took place this Labour Day. There was a queue forming in front of the stall and this auntie was standing in front of the stall packing the cooked noodles and hand them to the customers. She's the one whom we should give our orders to.

But guess what, when I attempted to place my order with her, she put out that big, fat, sticky and filthy palm of hers filled with grease and bits of spring onions right infront of my face, thinking that she's some Anita Sarawak and that people are suppose to speak to her hand. In condescending uppity she promptly dismissed my order with her filthy hand and roared, "Wait! Not your turn yet!"

I was like, what the fuck?

(My apologies for the frequent use of "fuck", but unfortunately this is essential to vividly describe the stall owners' appearances, attitudes and my innermost annoyance)

Next, I told her my order:

"Bak Chor bee tai mak, da bao (takeaway), soup, don't want liver, $4"

I instructed TWICE NOT to give me liver in my noodles and TWICE that I want it TAKEAWAY. But I see the my noodles being infested with pig livers and ended up in a porcelain bowl.

I decided not to pursue over the issue of not having pig liver in my noodles, but I certainly wasn't prepared to have my noodles at that kopitiam. So, I corrected the stall owner and said, "Auntie, wo yao da pao leh!" ("Auntie, I want it take-away)

To which I was presented with a look of annoyance and glares and stares and a loud "TSK!"

"Just now why you never say?"

My second "What The Fuck?!?!"

But the good thing is i ordered a $4 portion, and she prepared a $4 portion for me but I was charged only at $3.

After I got my takeaway noodle, I overheard the man queueing up behind me exclaiming, "Auntie, da pao leh! Not dine-in leh!"

"Just now why you never say?"

My third "What The Fuck?!?!" with a tinge of "ROFLMAO".

My third encounter with another stall owner took place recently.

Again, I told her my usual order:

"Bak Chor bee tai mak, da bao (takeaway), soup, don't want liver, $4"

And I repeat my order TWICE

I always buy a larger portion of noodles so instead of the usual $3, I always buy the $4 portion of noodles, but apparently she never seem to understand the meaning of "$4" because in the end she still prepared the $3 portion for me.

I wouldn't have mind the mistake if her service is up-to-mark and her face is always beaming, but alas! I have to bear the mistake in my order and her sulky face.

Seriously, I don't understand how hard can my order be. It's just bak chor bee tai mak, soup, no liver, and give me that damn $4 portion! You don't even need a PSLE certificate to remember my order.

Looks like Singapore has a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG way to go before our service sector can meet international standards. I mean, it has to comefrom within. If services in our heartland can be so poor, if our very own uncles and aunties cannot even serve local citizens properly, how do you expect that young salegirl in that Orchard Road departmental store to give you a star-quality service? What she's giving you probably is what she's getting back at home.