my sweaty palms.

Saturday, November 24, 2007

i have a lot of issues to bring up in today's entry,
but trust me,
once i get engrossed with updating about a certain issue,
i'll start to forgo the rest of the intended issues.

before i start, i'd like to warn you guys out there that these few issues are proved to be controversial.
to the indians who are currently reading this, i strongly urge you people to maybe bloghop to dawnyang(dot)com if you feel like looking at plastic faces,
or fingersdontfing(dot)com for enriching and english-inspiring entries.

i've left delifrance for good (again, for the second time).
at 6.30pm sharp, i sat down with manager eric and had a brief talk with him.
tears were welling up in his eyes as i signed the resignation letter,
while i was sobbing down there like a lost child.
i never realised how much i've respected eric as a manager all these years, until just now.

i had no choice. sooner or later, i'll have to quit anyway.

but what had triggered this was a particular indian manager who decided that he was going to sit the throne of ngee ann city's outlet manager once eric leaves for changi airport T3.
however,
in the process of becoming an outlet manager, he made a plan to overthrow whoever he felt like.

when my aunt got abused by her indian husband back then in 2005,
my mum never stopped telling me about how indians are a bunch of greedy humans,
who never stops living off other people's ricebowls,
and would do ludicrous things just to get what they want.
in terms of work, indians always suck up to their bosses, maybe giving a connotation that they're even willing to lick their arses to be the next boss or whatever shit.

i kept telling my mum that i've never met such an indian,
and i'd never probably will, because all the indians i knew were very nice people.

but oh my, my mum was so superbly correct - after seeing how this indian manager transformed into a two-headed beast just now in the storeroom.
talking about it makes me peeved at the moment.
that beast, alone, is making me hate indians like himself.

those indians who get drunk at little india, and then will board the train like it was the mumbai subtran,
or even those indians who make use of underhand methods to prove that they're the best.

you know something, stupid manager?
the only thing i regretted just now was not having the means to give you a tight slap on the face.
now that im gone, go ahead and start picking on other workers at delifrance.

you're good at that, arent you?
bloody nincompoop.

the boy rushed down from his workplace, even though we never planned to meet today.
with a distraught face, he started prying on what exactly happened,
but i wasnt in any mood to even think about anything.
what's important is that im no longer working - which is better than having to work with a two-faced manager like that aforementioned indian.

but i couldnt stop crying when he hugged me, because all i could think of was how happy all of us were many many months ago at ngee ann city's delifrance.

so who now thinks that there are no politics in the f&b sector?
raise up your hand and maybe go shoot yourself in the head.
political issues revolving arounfd the f&b industry is even much worse than those gossips you can find on xiaxue's or even trent's blog.

for now, my job is done.

and today too, made me realise how much the boy has changed.
he actually brought me around to find good food to eat, albeit knowing that im disgustingly clad in my awful-looking uniform.
and even forego hanging out with his friends at esplanade, because i couldnt stand the crowd and overpowering heat at esplanade.

"i wanna cheer you up ok?" he kept repeating this the whole time.

i might have lost my job, kudos to the stupid indian,
but i did gain something (:

and mintues ago, i was looking at my digital camera which i've loaned to my sister for the past month or so.
my 1 gb memory card was full of my family's pictures.
at changi beach, at vivo, everywhere.

then i came to realise that i wasnt in any of the shots.

mum looked extremely jovial in those photos,
but it dawned upon me that whenever i come home from school or work,
all she does is flash this i-dont-care-what-you-did-and-i-dont-bother-what-you-do-out-there look.

no one talks to me at home, even though im home on those few rare occasions.
nobody asks how im doing in school, or whether i've eaten outside.
none bothers to walk into my room and smile at me.

it hit me hard, and it just hit me - that im a cast-out in this family of mine.
why? oh because mira always creates trouble - mum's exact words when i was 16.

even just now,
she walks past my room, looks at me, and looks away as she enters her bedroom.
am i that prone to criticism, even in my own family?
and my dad, i've got no comments.

all he wants is for me to graduate from poly and go to university.
thats all he can think about.
none about my welfare or well-being, zero about how im coping in school.

wanna bet with me, even if i gulp down twenty panadols at one go,
and maybe with foam coming out from the side of my mouth,

they'll still wont know. why, again, some might ask?

"oh, because mira creates trouble to the family."

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