I am getting food at a traditional local food court that some people call a hawker centre. You grab food from one of a bunch of affordable food stalls and grab a table after to quickly eat your meal and move on with your day.

I have collected my bowl of noodles and look for a spare seat where I can eat. I spot an empty corner seat next to two women and sit down.

Woman #1: *In an American accent* “Excuse me. We’re sitting here!”

Me: “Oh, sorry! Are you saving this seat for someone?”

Woman #2: *Also in an American accent* “Uh… no! But we’re sitting here!”

Me: “But you’re not sitting in this seat, because I am sitting in it. If you’re not saving it for someone else, I’ll eat here, thanks.”

Woman #1: “Don’t you understand English? We’re sitting here!”

Two American women shouting about my English comprehension in an Asian country rubs me the wrong way.

Me: “No, you’re sitting in the seats you’re currently occupying. I am sitting in the seat I am currently occupying. It sounds like it’s you who doesn’t understand English.”

Woman #2: “This is our table!”

Me: “Wrong again; tables are shared. There are six seats at this table. You can’t claim it all just for you two. Now, be quiet and let me eat my food in peace.”

The two women glare at me, and one of them suddenly pushes my noodles off the table! The plate is plastic so doesn’t break, but it makes a loud noise as it hits the floor.

Me: “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!”

The raised voices have attracted the attention of a security guard, as well as many onlookers. The security guard can’t speak English too well, so he barks at the women in Cantonese.

Security Guard: *In Cantonese* “I saw that! You stay right there!”

Woman #2: “What are you shouting at us for?! He’s the one that took our table!”

Another guard is standing at the far end of the seating area, and I see him speaking into his radio. I know they’re calling the police.

Me: “Ladies, these guards are calling the police. Apologise to me and pay for the replacement for my meal, and I will tell them this was a simple misunderstanding. If not, I will be instructing them to arrest you.”

Woman #1: “We’re not scared of you or the police! You’re just a man who tried to attack two women!”

Me: “That might work where you come from, but you have about half of Mong Kok here as witnesses who saw what you did and understand how hawker centre etiquette works. This won’t go the way you think it will.”

They just stared at me smugly until the police arrived. Those smug smiles didn’t last very long when they realised that they were being “escorted” to the nearest police station and their passports were being collected for identification purposes.

I was asked to provide a statement, and I left no detail out. The vendor didn’t charge me for my replacement noodles and even gave me extra beef for giving him a good show!

Brother: “Hey, have you ever had maple syrup straight from the bottle?”

Me: “No. Why?”

Brother: “It’s liquid heaven. I sneak a gulp from the fridge every single night.”

Me: “Does that mean we’ll all be eating your spit the next time we have maple syrup for breakfast?”

Brother: “Erm, no.”

Me: “How come?”

Brother: “You see, it’s a year past the expiry date. I’m seeing how long it takes Mom to remember it exists and chuck it out.”

(I’m in my office, taking a toilet break. I’m just sitting there, doing my business, when I hear the janitor come in. It’s a small washroom with only two stalls, so it’s not long before she reaches mine. She pushes on the door and sees it’s in use, so I assume that’s it. Less than twenty seconds later, she shakes the door, muttering something angrily.)

Me: “Sorry, I’m in here!”

Janitor: *shakes the door again*

Me: “Just a moment, I’m still going.”

(I hear more angry muttering. I get about five seconds of respite… and then she sticks her hand under the door with a rag, trying to clean the floor despite the stall still being in use.)

Me: *quickly pulling my legs back* “Yeesh, okay!”

(I was not done, but I quickly finished up anyway and left. The janitor pushed in the moment I was out. She kept glaring as me as I washed and dried my hands. I get that she was probably on a schedule to get the washrooms cleaned, but can’t you give someone a minute? Or at least ask nicely?)

(We are in music class. We have a band program that is mandatory. I am in the clarinet section, and there are more girls than boys. Our teacher is commenting on our seating arrangements when he lets out this gem:)

Teacher: “All right, maybe next time you boys sit in front and you girls wrap around them.”

(We never let him live that down, but what he had meant to say was that the girls sat AROUND us.)

(We have a new girl join our dragon boat team. She’s very sweet and seems kind of sheltered. One day after practice, some of the girls from the team go for a Bloody Mary and she joins us, which is unusual. We are discussing what we did for Valentine’s Day.)

Me: “We stayed in, I made us a special dinner, we split a bottle of wine, and he washed up. Nothing too special.”

New Starter: “Aw, it’s nice that your husband washed up.”

Me: “Oh, well, actually, he always does. I always cook, so it’s only fair really.”

New Starter: *kind of wide-eyed* “Really?”

Me: “Well, of course! We both earn and we both split the chores.”

(There are murmurs of agreement from the rest of the group.)

New Starter: “Um, I thought it was like, a woman’s thing to do housework?”

(I think we all look a little bit shocked at her, which, in retrospect, I feel bad about because she seems to really believe what she’s saying. It’s also worth noting that she works full time.)

New Starter: “That’s what my mum said, and my husband, too. She showed me, like in the movies?”

Teammate: *known for being super blunt* “Were these movies from the fifties?”

(A couple of girls laugh and I shoot them a look. Clearly, this poor girl has been brainwashed or something. I lean over to her.)

Me: “[New Starter], it definitely used to be like that, but it really isn’t anymore. In a healthy relationship, it’s fair to share the workload.”

(She looked at me like I’d just told her where babies come from. Then, she turned bright pink, and jumped up and ran out of the cafe. I hope she’s enlightened her husband, or dumped him!)

This story is part of our Housework roundup!

Read the next Housework roundup story!

Read the Housework roundup!