Sex? Yes please...

We were in a book store’s language section, French, when Wegra noted “French is a gender biased language. Well, most European languages are.”

“Yeah, I agree. Even objects are classified male or female. It makes language learning very complicated!” I said.

“But they are improving English to be less biased. And most Asian languages are the least sexist” she went on.

“Hmm, that’s right! Malay for example, has ‘dia’ or ‘that person’ instead of he or she as a pronoun. But sometimes it is necessary to identify the gender as a more detailed description for a comprehensive and descriptive story” I added.

“Is it really necessary?” she asked.

“I think so. Because in Malay, a story can go on and on using ‘dia’ without a hint of the person being male or female, it creates the need to question ‘is the story referring to a female or a male?” I elaborated.

“Well, that’s the way you look at it” she said, ending the discussion.

Ironically, asking if the person is male or female may be construed as sexist. And you’ll probably get ‘what difference does it make, male or female?’ hurled at you.

The discussion may have stopped there but it kept me thinking. And a few clicks on the net proved how ignorant I was.

How ignorant exactly was I? Google up ‘gender biased language’ and see for your self. Here, let me help; follow this link http://www.google.com.my/search?hl=en&q=gender+biased+language&btnG=Search&meta=

I totally understand now why eliminating gender biasing is necessary. It eliminates discrimination on every level. It’s the first step to creating a fair and civilized society.

Go gender free. Yeah, I can do that.

Even squirrels can go gender free without losing their nuts.

But don’t start calling your mom and dad female and male parent. That’s weird.

Misteragus

“Mr Agus, why are you so quiet?” asked a university intern as she parked in front of my cubicle.

“I guess I have nothing to say” I told her.

She’s now in her three weeks of her three months internship and gradually bonding with the rest of the crew at work. The fact that she’s attached to the second company (billboard advertising) owned by Boss gave us nothing much to exchange, apart from setting up her laptop’s networking and computer system optimization.

“But it makes you invisible…” she added.

That quickly pulled a smile on my face and I replied “That’s good. Really good!”

“That’s not good. You’re invisible. It’s like you’re not here.” She begged to differ.

“Oh it’s good” I assured her. And she went on to chat with the receptionist.

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Well how about that! Now there’s one person who’s not afraid to ask, and she’s only been here three weeks! Very thoughtful indeed.

As usual, I didn’t give it a rest. I continued to ponder the reason that justifies my silent behavior.

The office is a place where work dominates the conversation. When work scopes don’t collide, silence is golden. When my time is not occupied with work, the internet satisfies me with good education; whatever I need to learn, it’s bound to be there. From curing a lethally infected PC to the best nasi lemak recipe, everything is there if you know how and where to look. If I have loads of spare time, I blog.

Sometimes you’ll see me walk around the office rearranging stuff, improvising the way things work; be it the jammed toilet door, the cluttered store in the pantry or the choked toner vessel in the copy machine. When that doesn’t work, I’ll snake out to the nearest mall, mostly having lunch with a friend or two.

Unlike friends, workmates and their life stories are a daily encounter. All I need to do is ask, and if I don’t, it means I’m not interested. But if you really want to share, by all means, start the discussion thread. You’ll be surprised with what I have to share about the things I deem worthwhile. And it’s quite different when we have functions out of the office.

Yes, we do have our own in-house chatterboxes. Make that the one-and-only chatterbox. Throw anything at him and he will chat you silly. Have a napkin ready for your melted earwax. Even when you start to hint boredom and time out, he would go on and on, until you finally walk away. It’s a good thing he’s not always in the office. Working for sales in billboard advertising warrants him to go places and meet people. Come to think of it, he is in the right business. But don’t get me wrong, he does deliver.

And deliver I do as well. The only difference is I often do it quietly. It’s really not too much if I claim to be the unseen force quietly making things happen in the background, things that are expected of me. But that doesn’t make me a lonesome cowboy either. I fiercely believe in teamwork.

Seriously, nothing pisses people off like a huge empty can tumbling down fleets of bare concrete stairs. It’s noisy and achieves absolutely nothing, well, except for destructive relocation.

“So Mr. Agus, what do you do during weekends?” she continued asking, obviously trying to start a conversation, from one cubicle away no less.

“Oh, not much. If no one calls me to hang out and I’ve not planned anything with friends, I’ll be at home watching Astro”

“What channel? Vaan?” she chuckled.

Huh? What was that about? She’s Indian; was that meant to be a joke? Society and television taught me that racist jokes are only acceptable internally, or when it is told by a person of the race in reference, i.e. only blacks can tell black jokes. Or maybe I misunderstood.

I played it safe and said “Nah, now I fancy channel 78, Discovery Real Time. Loads of stuff about cars”

After a long pause and clicks on her pc, she was at it again.

“Guess what Mr. Agus. I saw your picture from our accounts exec’s wedding pictures.”

“Yeah, that was two years ago I think.”

“You look so cute, with that chubby face. You look so different now” she remarked.

“What do you mean cute? Chubby is not cute on me.”

“It is. You look so cute and chubby. Why so different now?” she asked.

“I lost a lot of weight, that’s why”

“But why?” she just had to ask.

“Because I thought I needed to” I said and she dropped it. We continued whatever we were doing till lunch. I seriously wanted to point her to my earlier blog entry, my detailed weight loss adventure but that would bring her here. Not that this entry trashes her up or anything. It’s just not the time yet, or ever. And I don’t think she blogs, yet.

Leaking

Is your roof waterproof?

Trust the minister to tell you it needs to be. He puts the roof in waterproof. He’ll also tell you it’s going to cost a lot.

This ain't a scene

Two Saturdays ago (yeah, it’s been a while), I walked into Nando’s Restaurant at Bangsar Village to have late lunch while my car underwent regular service at a workshop nearby.

I ordered my favorite extra hot whole leg with mediterranean rice and fresco salad. A complete meal.

“Your chicken will be ready in ten minutes” said the waiter.

“Thank you”

I sat facing the entrance, a vantage point for people watching. A few groups of people entered and their orders taken.

While I waited there was a commotion at the cashier counter behind me.

“Oh that’s just great. 58 bucks flying out of my pocket!” said a waiter.

“How come they just walked out without paying?” asked a waitress.

“Well, maybe they thought they’ve paid so they just took a damn hike!” the waiter guessed, obviously furious.

The discussion spilled into the kitchen and after a while I heard the waiter said “Ok, that would be 58 bucks divided by four. Damn! Fourteen fifty out of my pocket, just like that!”

Having done a fair share of waiting I know this kind of crap happens no matter how hard you try to avoid it. It sucks.

All that and I was still waiting.

When ten minutes became fifteen I started to take note of other diners waiting for their food.

“Yeah, they were already seated when I came in. Them too. Ah, that mother and teenage son came in after me. If and when their food comes before mine, I’ll speak.”

After twenty minutes, sure enough, they started eating.

“Oh this is not right. Where’s mine. What happened to ‘first come first served’? As if bad timing isn't already a problem” I thought.

I flagged a waitress and asked about my order which was supposed to arrive ten minutes ago.

She went to the computer and started to click through the order database, just to get back to me with “uhm, the waiter didn’t key in your order earlier”

“But he said my chicken will be ready in ten minutes” I told her.

“Let me check with the kitchen” her panic expression surfaced and she toddled like a chicken toward the kitchen.

Another discussion ensued at the counter behind me. Thinking like only a customer would, I got up, approached the counter and participated in the discussion for what it's worth.
“Is my chicken even on the stove yet? Do you see that mother and her teenage son? (I pointed) They came in five minutes after me and they’re now tucking in nicely” I firmly explained my situation.

“It’s ready now sir” said one of them as she pointed to the plate over the dispatch counter.

“Huh? That fast? Ok then”

“We’ll send it over right away” she confirmed as I turned to walk to my seat. I can’t help but wonder who’s plate they instantly shoved as mine.

A waitress placed the plate in front of me and said softly “Sir, my manager said you don’t have to pay for this one”. I sensed a ‘gulp’ in her speech.

“I don’t have to pay?” I repeated.

“No sir” she answered.

“Ok.” I couldn’t decide how to set my facial expression so it was left void. I mean, should I smile when just a nanosecond ago I seemed mildly agitated?

As I started to dig in, another woman approached me. Probably the manager.

“I’m very sorry for that mistake sir. You don’t have to pay for the meal. It’s on me.”

“Seriously? You don't have to take it that far” I suggested. It's rhetoric, I know.

“Yes, seriously. Your time is more important. Enjoy your meal”

“Thank you very much”

Needless to say, it wasn’t just a meal, for a whilrwind of thoughts rushed in as I was munching away.

“Oh that was too easy. It almost made me look like I was waiting for this to happen. Wait a minute, that don’t sound right. Neither does it look right.!” I thought.

Indeed it was an unsatisfactory service but that doesn’t mean I deserve a free lunch, not on someone else’s expense. It ain't a scene that I wanted; I just wanted someone to know they screwed up and learn from it. Strive to improve. People make mistakes and everyone deserves a second chance, provided they don’t take it for granted.

Besides, in less than an hour, this would make the second incident of forking out the staff’s cash after a group of diners simply walked out without paying. These guys have had a rough day. Plus the manager owned up and apologized. I would feel real awkward, not to mention guilty, just walking out of that joint. It's almost like saying 'thanks for lunch, suckers...'

“Alright, here’s what I’ll do; I’m gonna ask to pay for this meal, at least settle for a discount. Yeah, they could take my drink off the bill. If that doesn't work, I'll just leave a ten ringgit tip. That's a fair price. Yeah, I always enjoy Nando's chicken, so it's worth it. ”

That settled, I continued to finish my lunch.

Instead of calling for the bill, I went straight to the cash register and asked to speak to the manager again. While one of them went to call the manager out, I scanned the counter for a tip box; none.

“I want to pay for my meal” I told her.

“No sir, it’s on me” she said.

“No, I mean it, let me pay”

“The bill’s already taken care of” she said smiling.

“You have the courtesy of owning up and apologize. Now I need to feel better” I exposed my agenda.

She smiled more and said “No, it’s fine. Next time sir. Next time you bring your friends here”

“Alright then. Thank you very much”

Geez, some people just have to have the last word. But trying to be the better man didn’t fail, for I dealt with a good woman.