the poseur speaks

we are now back in Singapore, Ravi has lost 2kg more and i have gained 1kg. congratulations to Ravi on both occasions.

our booking at the Rendezvous Hotel fell through 2 days before we were to arrive. how a confirmed hotel booking turns into a "Sorry, we are overbooked" is beyond me. not sure if the blame lies with the hotel or the 3rd party who was arranging everything for us. this 3rd party then rebooked us at the Elizabeth Hotel. it's an okay hotel, mediocre. the bed is nice and warm, the air-con control is out of whack, the newspaper went missing one morning - and the worst - the bathroom isn't exactly clean and i cannot live with this.

never thought we'd do this but seeing how every other hotel is fully booked and is unable to accommodate us for 24 more nights, i actually ventured into Hotel 81 Bugis. and you know what, it's clean, it's modern, it's new at 1 month old, the particular room i viewed is spacious.

i am a convert.

we will now stay at Hotel 81 and chuck all nasty associations aside. i am no longer a poseur.

a few observations on being back in Singapore
1. i knew i loved rain, but i never knew how much i could miss it
2. never realised how clean Singapore cars are
3. observed how green in Singapore is uber green and exquisitely beautiful
4. stray cats and dogs here have it good most of the time
5. i love Singaporeans, i don't care what people say about Singaporeans and queuing cos at least you queue here

when i was at our first shopping spree in Dubai, i naively queued outside the fitting room when everyone walked past me and stole all available rooms. lesson was learnt quickly. same story with toilet cubicles.

and then, i was at this particular mall and saw three ladies standing outside the fitting room. incredulous, i raised my eyebrows and asked "Are you ... queuing?" and lo and behold, they were! so again, naively, i queued.

maximum number of pieces allowed per fitting - 4
number of ladies waiting outside fitting room - 3
actual number of ladies to be fitted - 2 (one accompanied by her mama)
number of minutes Dali stood outside fitting room huffing for her 3 pieces - 15

see, the chick with her mama had 5 pieces of clothing in her hands, that's ONE whole garment more than the maximum allowed. chick's mama gets INGENIOUS idea of playing round the rule and told salesgirl, "i go in too" then promptly instructs chick to choose 3 more pieces for herself to try in the fitting room. now, why couldn't she just say "i go in too", going in and letting her precious daughter try ONE more garment?

no, she went the extra mile. THREE more pieces. that's removing one top, buttoning up the second, admiring self in mirror, mother scrutinizing top on self and wow, before you know it, you're into the next piece 3 minutes later, spending 25 minutes in the bloody fitting room.

Singaporeans are NOT kiasu, their reign is over.

AND THEN, and then, this lady pops her head out of the fitting room, reaches for bag beside salesgirl, FISHES OUT FOUR PIECES MORE and brings them into her cubicle.

now, does 4 + 4 not = 8?
4, 4 does not = 4
another 4 after 4 is 8
eight, OK? EIGHT. EE-EYE-GEE-ECH-TEE, EIGHT, you dyslexic shit.

this, is a Dubaiite's concept of queuing. i do not know if this has anything to do with the fact that every second lady in the fitting room is Indian and people queued in India only if you were ordering in McDonald's, and if the local Emiratis simply followed suit to survive in War of the Fittings.

or,

local Emiratis are just a rude bunch of thoughtless people who couldn't care less, or pretend to not care less. having been in India, and afflicted by the IQueueNauts 85% of the time, i believe the bad experiences i've had in Dubai can be credited to the same 85% of black sheeps roaming the malls.

Emiratis have been extremely polite and charming so far.

i distinctly remember a similarly painful experience in a KLCC toilet and do not want to revisit that moment.

i've confirmed my findings with a fellow Indian friend and he says, it's a dog-eat-dog world to which i replied, "only if you're a dog."

we have evolved, you know? we no longer pick fleas out of each other's hairy backs or lick our balls with our hind foot pointing to the sky as if saying, "look, God, balls!"

so next time you're in a Dubai mall and see a very cross lookin lady with one leg over the other, bent over and swearing in unfamiliar Hokkien swear words - that's me.