Cursed

It’s a curse. The phone always rings, tourists always come each time we sit down to have a meal or coffee.

This evening, Unni and I go to the golf place to have our evening coffee instead of having it at home. Just as we were about to pay, some ang moh comes up to the counter asking where he can get a room for the night. I say out loud ‘Oh No’. Sian lah, just when we were about to have coffee, plus a piece of cake!

Unni asks him to go get a drink and wait. Shortly after he and I cycle back, where I show him his room at the Tuna.

American. He asks me where I’m from. I tell him Singapore and he blabbles some unknown language to me. Which I later deduce it’s either Japanese or Malay perhaps. Then he asks me if I’ve picked up any Norwegian and goes on to say lucky people speak English here, and how it must be a language I’m not that used to from where I come from. The final straw comes when he asks me which part of Singapore I’m from. ???? I was contemplating whether I should say I’m from Tua Kong Walk or whether I’m from the Eastside or Siglap. (I bet even if I said Siglap, he’d have gone ‘oh, ok…’

Confirm already. He has no idea where or what the hell Singapore is.

So I tell him, “Singapore Singpaore… It’s a city state.”

I guess it was a ‘A-ha’ moment for him, coz he thought I was from someplace in Malaysia. Well bonus points for getting it close enough, compared to other people who thought I was from someplace in China. He wasn’t sure coz he has never been to the FAR EAST or Asia. And he tells me he’s a pilot somemore…

Anyhow, the American’s staying one night. Hope he doesn’t leave the place in a mess like the last American family did.