THE BUFFET CLUB
Have to blog this before I forget. One of my greatest regrets is not having mastered a Chinese dialect, or Mandarin. Not more than 3 minutes ago, I just had this painful conversation with an overenthusiastic telemarketeer, trying to sell me THE BUFFET CLUB card. I understood him perfectly; my regret stems from the fact that I have no ability to give a witty or snide retort. When I used to work up north, (in Alor Setar), where everyone speaks hokkien, I get really jittery in coffee shops, because I never know how much I'm supposed to pay, when they say it in hokkien, when it comes to payment, so I always give big notes, so I get change. Anyway, I wonder where these telemarketeers get their database of names from and what criteria do they impose. I suspect its by weight. I remember recently divulging my weight to the questionnaire in a newly opened gym, a glitzy looking one in the vicinity of sri hartamas. They must have sold my info to the buffet club, or WHY else would the ...