Ammunitions of Anger

I called a good friend to vent out my frustrations that were destructively built up during my tutorial. This patient guy listened intently.

I was walking pass an Indian sundry shop when I noticed calendars on the floor. I chirpily asked if they were for sale or I can take them for free. (it's mid Feb, afterall). He shook his head and mumbled.

I was wondering,

• 'No, it's not for sale, I can take them.' OR
• 'No, I can't take them'?

I repeated my question. He mumbled and gestured the same.

I repeated. He roared.

"Tak Boleh lah!"

I was shocked by his rudeness and that the irony that he would refuse to part with loads of calendars which he obviously doesn't value. I wasn't going to let him get away with it.

"TANYA SAJA LA, MARAH MARAH BUAT APA?"

Both he and I were surprised at my outburst. He looked down at his account book and pretended to resume his calculations and cursed silently in Tamil.

I walked away to join my oblivious sis who was far ahead of me.

I felt guilty. Why such anger?

Just yesterday I was clearing the medical bills for my mom in a government hospital. It's Sunday and all payment transactions were redirected to the emergency department.

The queue was long and only ONE counter was open. The rest of the staff on the other side of the counter appears to be busy with other formal tasks.

During the entire time, my vision was pierced at selected few, trying to make sense what on earth they were doing. Finally, the volcano erupted.

"Pelik kan? Ini Jabatan KECEMASAN. Tak nampak pun orang yang CEMAS!" - Loud enough to entertain the crowd.

One counter quickly opened. Again, I teased.

"ALHAM-DULLILAH". Many in queue smiled.

A similar scenario just happened the day BEFORE. I had to reapply my ATM card because I hurriedly canceled my previous one when I had lost my wallet (before the student affairs department called me to inform me that they have it).

The process was damn long. I was irritated to notice that the customer service officer seem to segment his customers according to their appearance. I was in my way-too-comfortable-not-to-be-seen-in-public-home-clothes. But I was patient. I opened my papers and read.

Half an hour has passed. I'm done with my papers. The big-shot-officer-seated-behind-tellers was talking. My sane nerve snapped.

"Excuse me, ma'am. Can you so kindly authorize my ATM card? I'm in great hurry. I've even finished my paper." -In clear intonation and British accented -which suprised myself. I didn't plan that accent thingy. =P

I was able to happily leave the bank in 20 seconds with my brand new ATM card.

Am I a BA-aa-ad person? Let's check the scoreboard.

• I printed out small posters to paste in Uni to thank the anonymous girl who returned my wallet.
• I greet my neighbours everyday.
• I always smile at children.
• I always give way to vehicles when I'm driving.
• I always give my seat to elders/physically-challenged passengers.

No. I'm not bad.

I'm just not NICE. Hiss!!