Note: Unless you’re a butterfly, you have no qualms tasting your own puny foot. Since that is the only way for you to eat to stay alive.
Speaking of butterflies, that reminds me. Just the other morning, I was queuing at Singapore’s Woodlands Immigration to enter Singapore (I live in Johor). There was a long queue (as usual) and while waiting for my turn, there was a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and a Chinese Malaysian lady (I noticed she was holding the access card), told me that the lane I am in was closed for Singapore passports. So I replied her (politely), that I can’t budge since I am already near the scanning machine. She was either being polite by informing me or she just wanted to shorten the queue by getting rid of me.
Nevertheless, another man, who was standing waaay in front of me, heard the conversation, turned to us and shot, “Bla, bla, bla, bla, bla, (didn’t really quite heard what he was blasting) FOREIGNERS! Bla, bla, bla, IMMIGRANTS!” and went off stomping through the gate entry in a PMS mode. The lady and I looked at each other and just shrugged off.
What irony to say those things when he’s the foreigner himself living in Johor. He must have had iron nails for breakfast that morning and an additional one, ala foot at the checkpoint.
With people like the man, no wonder there’s global warming.
Labels: Sub-Rosa