All this waiting makes one crave coffee

Date: 29 May 2007
Time: 1010 hrs
Place: Bus stop outside Hotel Rendezvous

I am reading the bus services guide to figure out which bus I could take when this short man wearing a batik shirt and grey pants, and a briefcase, sitting on the bench with a young man (his son?) decked out in hip-hop gear (sports jersey and backwards cap), spins around and asks me whether he could pay for the bus using cash because he didn't have an Ez-Link card. I told him that yes, the busses still took cash, and pointed to the box on one of the busses that just stopped where he is supposed to put in the cash, instead of handing it to the driver which he thought was the procedure. I then helped him figure out that it cost $1.70 for him to get to the airport. After a while, bus 36 came, I pointed to it but he had gotten up to walk off with his son, saying that they were going to a cafe to get coffee first.

Ten years

Date: 18 May 2007
Time: 1554 hrs
Place: Tanjong Pagar MRT Station Platform

There I was standing with my head pointed up, neck craned, watching the video they keep playing on a loop, teaching people how to look out for terrorists. I call it the "excuse me sir you've forgotten your bag" video. Without prior warning, this petite auntie, wearing a black sweater and and jeans, just came up to me and asked how to get to Toa Payoh MRT. Well, actually, she already knew, she was just confirming that she needed to transfer trains at Raffles Place to take the train up north. Then she proceeded to confess to me that she had not lived in Singapore for about ten years and that she found it very confusing now. I told her that she was right, and told her it was seven stops to Toa Payoh, then she went back to who I suppose is her daughter, wearing a pink tank top and pink Crocs, maybe 8 or 9, and probably her older sister, an auntie with big hair and a green dress (inappropriately short for her age) and heels, looking about fifty something years old, with a smirk of arrogance on her face.

Most of our Murtabak must have the mosque at the Mustafa

Date: 5 May 2007
Time: 1823 hrs
Place: Just outside TCC at NAFA

(both) We were rushing over to Bras Basah Complex to the Vintage Framemakers shop to collect the freshly framed Japanese lady cross-stitch (which, by the way, turned out really nice). They were closing at 6.30 so we were walking with much purpose. That did not stop an Indian man, wearing a strange combination of a small white hat that looked like a songkok, a blue Catholic Junior College t-shirt and pants and slippers, rapidly approached us and starting saying "moustaba moustaba, planet moustaba". At first I thought he wanted to get to a mosque, so I pointed him down Bencoolen Street towards the mosque, but it didn't seem right to him. I then realised he might be saying Mustafa Plaza, asked him "Mustafa?" and he said "yes, moustaba", so then I pointed him somewhat diagonally towards Selegie Road, though now on hindsight that's a long distance to walk.

At least this time he approached us from the front.

Locally rude

Date: 3 May 2007
Time: 0945 hrs
Place: Sunshine Plaza

(sorf) Just got asked directions in the mall. Indian dude in jeans and red t-shirt looking very harassed just abruptly said to me "Where's the lift ah?" I asked him where he wanted to go and he said "6th floor", then I asked, "office or condo?" Directed him to office lobby and he stalked off with younger Indian man in tow. Didn't even thank me... Think the foreigners are right. Singaporeans are quite rude.