Tragedi di hari raya

As you know or don't know, I work at this very high profile club restaurant in Singapore. Millionaire club members, $200,000 entrance fee, you get the drift. Predictably, it's extremely stressful - demanding la, this, that. I work weekends before I started schooling, every Sunday after that.

And tonight, I think the manager broke down. As compared to the staff, he's there barely a year when most of the full-time waiters have been working there 8-15 years. This is the SMS he sent to me at 10:03 pm:

Manager:

I need you to work on friday nights. . Why you always not working on fridays nights. ..If you cannot work next work friday. . . Then you can stop work. . . . I m need staffs on every friday. . . Please reply now. . .Thank you

That's the exact message sent, complete with spelling errors and deranged punctuation. Maybe I have school on Friday maybe only la and I wanna rest? I thought to myself, probably sommat happened at the club, he got fucked by patrons and higher management, not enough staff, dead-end job, quarreling with wife who doesn't love him, angry with children who hate him, whatever.

So I replied:

Sorry I can't. Anyways thanks. Goodbye

Manager:

Fantastic. . I expected it too. . Cant be trusted. . Anyway. . Goodbye forever

Whoa whoa hold on there romeo... Sounds like a low-budget love story. Is this a relationship or a job? Must've been a reaaaaaaalllly bad day at work. Probably Mr Tan accidentally ate a chilli and got mad. (Mr Tan doesn't eat chilli, and all the staffs are extremely careful to press the 'no chilli' button on the PDA when ordering his food) Or probably Mrs Kuek's food came 3 mins too late. (Inferring skills has led me to believe Mrs Kuek must be fucking noisy in bed. Fucking, noisy)

Whatever it is, it must've been a really bad day. Bad life la actually. Imagine working 6 days a week, 10 hours a day attending to the minor whims of old millionaire farts.

On my bad day, I stole a Toblerone from the Guan Yu offering altar and dared him to make me foam in the mouth and my tonsils swell. Nothing happened la obviously. What, you didn't think Guan Yu got angry and smote me with his plastic halberd did you? Isap bodoh.

Anyways, even though I didn't reply I got another SMS

Manager:

What a shame on you. . . Really regret trusting you. . . SHAME ON YOU. . . .

At this point my dad was watching Suria with the singers wailing and dancing selamat hari raya, and poor chap is in his office weeping, SMSing me. Quite funny. I wanted to say abeh nangis? Chill ah, raya dok.

Henceforth, I'm not working every Sunday anymore.

Sunday morning soccer ke pe.