The SUCKLIST

Well, so it's December, and I don't feel much like blogging, despite all the pleas and death threats, especially from an albino assassin called Amelia. Okay, tell you what. I'm starting a SUCKLIST, and I will need your help to make it a resounding SUCK-CESS. The SUCKLIST will provide a catalogue of the things that suck in Ipoh or anywhere else. For those of you who are not familiar with the lingo of cooltalk, if something sucks, it means that it's bad, very bad. Horrible to the core. Deplorable.

For instance, if you've just tasted the most awful cup of coffee in a coffeeshop, you simply exclaim: This coffee really sucks! And when you've been wrongly accused of some shameful deed, you don't just complain and whine, but you lament instead and utter "This sucks!" with a sigh and a grave tone of resignation. Simply put, it's the cool version of "Aiyah!"

Okay, as I was saying, The SUCKLIST will be an ongoing compilation of all the things that suck in Ipoh and anywhere else. There will be different categories of course, but for now I would like to initiate the first category, which is under Food and Beverage Outlets That SUCK. The F & B outlet that gets the honour of being the first on the list is the PizzaHut outlet in Tesco.

On Saturday night, the wife and I had just finished shopping at Tesco, we thought we'd spend some of our hard-earned money on some imitation Mexican/Italian food. And when it comes to imitation Mexican/Italian fare, where else is a better place than PizzaHut? And so we headed to the outlet, which was, interestingly, located right next to the entrance of the ground floor washrooms. Seeing how there was this huge sign with the words "PLEASE WAIT TO BE SEATED" written on it, we hovered around the entrance of the restaurant while we pretended to be browsing through the menu. A minute later, a Cik Malay waitress led us to our seats, which was a table by the glass overlooking the corridor that led to the washrooms. Awesome view, but we couldn't really be bothered, since we were starving.

After we sat down, we noticed that around us were three other tables which were each occupied by a Malay family. The strange thing was, being Malay wasn't the only thing which these three families shared. It was also the look on their faces. And this particular look on their faces was unmistakably the look of HUNGER. So we sat there and waited. As we waited we looked around the restaurant and also at the people who were making their way to the Tesco washrooms. We waited a minute more. We looked at the pakciks and the makciks. The pakciks and the makciks looked back at us. It was absolutely comical. One of the Cik Malay waitresses brought a rather unappetising-looking plate of spaghetti to one of the tables and the pakcik started attacking it with a fork. After stuffing his mouth with two forkfuls of spaghetti, he pushed the plate to his wife. As his wife was eating, he eyed the plate of spaghetti like a starving Ethiopian child.

After close to ten minutes, the wife and I became increasingly restless, and angry. All the Cik Malay waitresses were walking around, but all of them buat tak tau, pretending that they couldn't even see us. The wife gently suggested that we try the double-storey outlet in Ipoh Garden South instead, and I was standing up, one of the uglier Cik Malay waitresses came over, presumably to get our orders. But it was a little too late. I picked up the menu, dangled it in front of her with my thumb and index finger before letting it drop with a soft smack on the floor.