Asphyxiation
As highlighted by many other Malaysian bloggers , the thick, heavy blanket of haze shrouding the country the past week has left me depressed and somewhat ill (watery eyes and a dull head, at best)...certainly did not help that this coincided with the final week to the 2004 tax submission deadline for the group of companies I work for!!! So even in the event whereby I could have honestly claimed a sickie....I unfortunately was desperately clawing my way to the office early every morning, in a determined bid to get the tax returns of the group of companies signed and submitted on time....no, am a far cry from the ideal model of a value-for-money-over-dedicated employee...rather, it is $$ which rules - am just not prepared to tempt fate by antognising my boss and risking my head on the chopping board in times when I need the dough.Ha! Admittedly, the past week has been living hell.
I literally felt cooped up in a small claustrophobic room, locked in with another 1,000 individuals below (standing room only) with no escape route available:
Was bracing myself for an equally grey and gloomy weekend, but lo and behold...come early Saturday morn, the acrid cloak of dust had lifted due to the kind change of winds! Nice blue skies and warm cheerful rays of sunshine streaming into my bedroom!!! Yippee yay...such rare commodities in the past week!!!
Unfortunately, not everyone was of the same view. Some bozos have inadvertently formed a fond attachment to the haze...deprived of smog...they have taken upon themselves to manufacture some instead, and with kind intentions, to distribute them among the masses.
Encountered one such inconsiderate fool during lunch at Imbi Palace - fairly posh restaurant with no-smoking signs conspicuously placed. No reading skills required...after all how hard is it to understand this:
Well, Mr Bozo confidently lit up in the packed restaurant while talking ostentatiously on the phone....the smoke quickly offending the senses of the diners around, most of whom had paused in the midst of riveting conversation to scout around for the source of the offensive fumes. His wife and two young daughters were evidently conditioned to such behaviour as they seem oblivious to the dirty looks shot at their table and the accusatory murmurs around. Mr Bozo, on the other hand, had developed skin as thick and unpenetrable as the armour of a tank - in all probability had obliterated the words "consideration and embarassment" from his already limited vocabulary - and continued to light up a couple more ciggies after the first. *puff puff*
Despite numerous complaints from neighbouring diners, waiters and waitresses did not dare broach the subject with Mr Bozo. Hmmm...perhaps a well-respected kingpin in the local underworld?!?!?
Sigh...in this case, even "bo thak chek" is too kind a compliment for the obviously visually and hearing impaired ass.
munsta ramblings @ 2:44 am
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