Towers of Frustration

All I wanted was a nice little outing with my mom & sister. And what did I get? A migraine, stomach ulcer and probably a stress-induced brain tumour. And I also got a peep at what psycho killers must've felt like before they snapped. Trust me, if I weren't a sane woman (yes, that's debatable) I'd have bought myself a gallon of C-4 and blown up the place. Would've done the world a favour - the place was filled with dimwits.

First of all, we couldn't watch the movie we were planning to watch. As the phone-booking thingy was 'under maintenance', we had to queue up for the tickets - and that's perfectly fine. I'm not a complete brat. I can stand in line. But the line was horrendously long and filled with self-conscious, multiple-pierced, American-slanged 10 year olds. So, rather than exposing my mother to the shock of how 'grown-up' our school-kids are these days, I decided to forego the whole movie idea and suggested that we head towards the bookstore.

So off we went up to the huge bookstore only to be greeted with a whole new level of extreme frustration. The books were all wrapped in plastic. Every single one of them was wrapped in plastic [except for a couple of 'em labelled "For Browsing"]. And to unwrap the books, you have to get the 'assistance of the staff'. Who were all busy wrapping books with plastic. Every single one of them was busy wrapping books with plastic.

I was interested in purchasing a book which, by the cover, looked like a fascinating read. But my mom always taught me, never judge a book by its cover :P so I approached a smartly dressed young man who was (yes, of course) busy wrapping a book with plastic.

Without looking up from his tedious and oh-so-important task, he asked me "You nak beli ka?" (Are you going to buy the book?) So I say, "Uhm... Tak tau lagi (I don't know yet). It looks interesting but I want to browse through it before I decide"

So the gallant young man, still not looking up (for all he cared I could be a sweet, little ol'lady or a knife-wielding psychopath) mumbled to me "Kalau taknak beli, tak boleh la bukak" (If you're not buying, we cannot unwrap)

So, instead of wasting our time any longer at the environmental friendly bookstore, we made a hasty exit, waving goodbye to all the lovely plastic-wrapped books. But not before I heard an Australian couple complain to another smartly-dressed young man that "My goodness, this is a bookstore, not a museum. And do you know that all this plastic is non-biodegradable?"

Good luck, mate. I doubt the fella knows the meaning of the word.. and he can't look it up, the dictionaries are all wrapped up in plastic.


Could things get worse? Read on...

So we left the bookstore, grumbling under our breaths but trying valiantly not to let it ruin our day... Instead of braving the swarm of people (it was a school holiday and office hours just ended) we decided to just go back to the safe haven we call home.

On the way to the lifts, we were overpowered with the heavenly scent of freshly-baked bread from the nearby bakery. Our spirits lifted as we piled our trays with delectable buns and pastries. We couldn't wait to get home and share our feast with the rest of the family. Our day restored to its original cheeriness, we headed down to the carpark.

Lucky for us (or so we thought at the time) the automatic ticket paying machine thingy was close to where we parked our car. But after several attempts, it appeared that the machine just found our money repulsive and kept on spitting it out. That's okay.. we'll just get in our car and find a more cooperative machine.

We stopped at every machine on that floor and every single one of the machines refused to accept our ticket. So we asked the guard whether or not we could pay at the toll-booths instead. He merrily said "No. There'll be no one there." Fine.

So we drove up to the 2nd floor, hoping against hope that the machines up there will magically work. Of course, they were just as useless. By that time, there were several other groups of people wandering around looking for a way to PAY THE DAMN TICKET AND GET OUT OF THERE. So we joined them.
Then,having established that truly NONE of the machines worked, we all decided to drive up to the toll-booths and PAY THE DAMN TICKET AND GET OUT OF THERE.

We weren't really surprised that there was no one in the toll-booths. I mean, the guard already told us that ... What we were surprised about was the sight of sooo many cars parked haphazardly near the toll-booths - with no drivers at the wheel. Then we spotted a LOoOoonnnggg line at the Customer Service Centre, situated 10 feet away from the toll-booths.
Ooo-kay then..
I parked my car haphazardly and joined the queue.

The queue was long and filled with really grumpy people. One old man grumbled that there was no way he was paying for the extra minutes spent queuing up. A lady and her friends whined about how they've spent half an hour trying to find a workable machine only to waste more time in line. The man behind me loudly suggested that someone arrange for staff to be in the toll-booths. My bad mood was not alleviated. I only gritted my teeth and prayed for patience.

Once the queue moved and I finally got to enter the room, I was horrified to see that the reason for the delay was the fact that only ONE person was on the job. I could see a whole group of them in the back of the room, eating and drinking, seemingly oblivious to the line of people waiting outside.

I couldn't keep my big mouth shut any longer.. So I said, "I can't believe there's only ONE PERSON MANNING THE COUNTER!" Several people grunted their agreement and then a Very Official Looking Dude approached us...

He looked at me with a massive scowl on his face and growled, "Adik, mulut tu cakap baik sikit yer. Kita tak benarkan benda lucah2 di sini." (Lady, watch what you say. We don't allow filthy/pornographic things here)

Needless to say, I was baffled at his response. What the heck was filthy/pornographic in my statement? Unless he understood "manning the counter" as some allusion to a sexual act or something akin to that.
Whatever he meant, the Very Official Looking Dude succeeded in shutting me up. I was too tired, too annoyed and too confused to bother any longer.
I paid my ticket, marched to my car (where my worried mother & sister were waiting) and stepped on the accelerator, eager to leave the Towers of Frustration, vowing to myself that next time, I'd rather endure traffic jams and go to Midvalley, One Utama or the Golden Triangle than go through THAT again.

If anyone has any inkling why "manning the counter" is a filthy/pornographic thing to say, please feel free to tell me.