(A young mother pushes her baby over in a pram and tells me that her baby took some “warm” water and splashed his face with it the day before. I look at the baby and he seems bubbly and happy. There is barely any sign of redness of his skin and there are no blisters, either.)
Me: “There’s isn’t any redness at all. He seems fine.”
Mother: “There’s a mark here.” *points under his eye*
Me: “Well, it’s not that obvious. You shouldn’t need to do anything about it. It’ll go away on its own.”
Mother: “The water got in his eyes.”
(I look at the baby’s eyes. There is also no redness.)
Me: “He looks fine. He’s not crying, either.”
Mother: “He cried for ten minutes yesterday. Will it leave a scar?”
Me: “No… his skin did not even get damaged. You really don’t have to do anything.”
(The mother looked a bit relieved yet doubtful at the same time but she thanked me anyway. Later she came back and asked if sun protection was needed to prevent scarring. Just to satisfy my curiosity, I asked if she really meant “warm” water or if she meant “hot” water. She told me that it was freshly boiled water with a triumphant expression. Well, either this baby has skin made of steel… or she left the boiled water out longer than she thought and it had cooled down already!)
(I am a housekeeping supervisor at a hotel, and I am manning the phones during the afternoon shift. The phone rings. It is my colleague from the front desk.)
Me: “Thank you for calling housekeeping. This is [My Name]; how may I assist you?”
Colleague: “[My Name]! I have a guest who just complained that his room wasn’t cleaned when he came back! Could you send someone up quickly?”
(I quickly check the records; the morning shift indicated that he had put the “Do Not Disturb” sign up, and left his room for the afternoon shift. I pick up another phone and dial the phone of the room attendant assigned.)
Me: “His room was on ‘Do Not Disturb,’ but it’s okay; I will send someone up now.”
(I get the room attendant and conveyed the message, as my colleague was speaking.)
Colleague: *sounding very shrill* “Why do you still sound so calm?! The man was furious! Shouldn’t you have some sense of urgency?”
Me: “I’m not the one running up to clean the room. But, if it makes you feel better, I can pant and speak in a breathy voice to you?”
Colleague: “…”
Me: “All right, I’ve gotten through to the room attendant. They are on that floor and are moving to said guest’s room now. I’ll update you once they are done. Goodbye.”
(I still don’t understand how moving quickly to get things done should translate to sounding like you’re running a race.)
(I’m an Indonesian-Chinese, and already the fourth or fifth generation in Indonesia. I cannot speak mandarin because I’ve never had the need of it. It was not taught in my schools, plus none of my families speak mandarin. I’m in Singapore and riding a taxi. The taxi driver is Chinese, and talks to me in mandarin.)
Taxi Driver: *speaking mandarin*
Me: “Ah, sorry. I don’t understand.”
Taxi Driver: “Indonesian?”
Me: “Yes.”
Taxi Driver: “I knew it. You Indonesian Chinese are shameful. You forgot where you came from. You must learn to speak Chinese! Otherwise your country will never become like Singapore!”
(He continue to speak about how mandarin is going to be the no one language in the future and how China will take over the world and so on. I just decided to keep silent through the trip, and when I paid the fare I did not give him any tip.)
(Our local [Fast Food Chicken Places] have stopped providing plastic caps and straws for drinks in an effort to reduce plastic use, but I’ve never needed them, anyway. I am in a different fast food restaurant, and am about to take two plates’ worth of chilli sauce from the self-serving dispenser, when one employee is in the way, presumably moving around cleaning tables.)
Me: “Excuse me.”
(The employee decides to go the extra mile and help me take two plates of chilli sauce and bring it to my table nearby.)
Me: “Thanks.”
Employee: “If you need more, just take new plates. Don’t reuse.”
Me: “Is there a reason for that?”
Employee: “They’re very cheap. No need to bother!”
Me: “…”
(I ignored him and reused them, anyway, when I ran out of sauce.)
(I was waitressing at a maid café when this couple came in. They were in cosplay, the male dressed as Naruto and the girl was dressed in a sailor uniform. The male orders curry rice while the girl orders omurice. As a “service”, the maids usually draw cute pictures on the omurice in ketchup. I walk over to their table to ask them what they would like me to draw on the omurice.)
Male : Hey, ummm is it okay if my girlfriend draws on the omurice? She’s always wanted to try that.
(I hand the girl the bottle of ketchup and head to the front counter to seat some customers. Suddenly, the girl starts screaming. I walk over and I see that the girl has drawn a weird cat thing on her omurice.)
Girl : Yeahhhh…I kinda messed up my drawing on my omurice. Can I get a new one?
Me : Excuse me? You want a new omurice?
Girl : Like a new blank canvas.
Me : That would mean making you a completely new omurice. We’d have to charge you twice.
Girl : LOL! You don’t understand. Just make me a new one because the one you made me is fucked up.
Me : Sorry, I can’t replace it.
Girl : What the fuck kind of service is this? Do you have no pride as a maid? You should be kneeling down on the ground apologizing for angering your master.
(She starts ranting about how our service is bad, yelling all kinds of vulgarities. Her boyfriend’s just silently staring at her. Suddenly, he grabs her by the arm and pulls her out of the café. Later the boyfriend comes back in and hands my co-worker $50 for the cost of their meal and a tip. The next day, the girl comes back in and asks if we’re hiring.)
