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| Sunday, February 12, 2006 |
| Of chicken ball rice and durian cendol |
"We were jamming all the way"
She was talking about being stuck in a traffic jam.
"Yaler, all for those stupid bicyclists"
Bicyclists?
Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to my sister. It's difficult to believe that she graduated with a degree in English Literature. Obviously ye ol' english don't be caring much for modern day english. Bicyclists? Indeed.
We were in Malacca. Bandar bersejarah itself. Curse the sejarah-ness of Malacca, for it became one of the stops for the Tour de Langkawi. So all the roads into town were blocked, as were all the highways leading to it. At one point, we sat in the car for a full hour and a half not moving an inch because the main road was blocked. Idiotic m'sian police didn't bother blocking the road that led up to the main road, causing everyone to turn into the small road and jamming it up tighter than a singaporean's pockets when offered free stuff.
There were easily tens of thousands of cars just idling on the roads of Malacca that day. I don't believe that not one of them had something urgent to do. But apparently none of them did.
My sister wanted to check out a campsite for the church's youth camp. She had bribed me with a free lunch if I went with her. Me being the pig that I am couldn't resist. I mean, free chicken ball rice and durian cendol? Who in his right mind will give up such gastronomical pleasures? And free, no less!
Alas, I was to be denied those most famous of all Malaccan foods. After aimlessly driving around the outskirts of Malacca town trying to get into it, we gave up, turned around and headed back to KL. My sister never got to check out the camp site. I never got my food. It was, putting it lightly, a complete, total and utter *enter appropriate synonym and curse here* waste of a perfectly good saturday morning.
I grabbed my sister's head and proceeded to shake it violently. Like a rattle. Hoping that some passerby would notice my borderline psychosis and placate me with chicken ball rice and durian cendol. Or that somehow, chicken ball rice and durian cendol would miraculously drop out of her ears. Or from the sky. Or pop up from the road. Or somewhere, anywhere!!
No such luck. Sigh.
We reached KL a very irritated brother and sister. What proceeded to happen next is too violent to be reported. I escaped with minor bruising. She, with 50 bucks less in her wallet. The joys of being a little brother. |
posted by theycallmecruel @ 11:19 PM  |
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wheeeeeeeeeee
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