Category: General Faux Pas

Carnage at Carnegieā€™s.

Went to Carnegieā€™s for ladiesā€™ night. Ladies were given 4 drink coupons at the entrance. Apparently it has a good list of house drinks but itā€™s not like I knew how to enjoy it. I had one Heineken and was basically high on it the whole night. The rest of the coupons went to waste because alcohol elitists like FA and Suan would rather pay for big pints of Hoegaarden instead.

The place was infested with SPGs. And I mean stereotypical, straight out of the textbook kind of SPGs. Long straight hair, slightly tanned, mini skirt/tightass jeans and a little skimpy top with the bitchiest expression (to other women anyway). Mostly hogging the bar area waiting for balding, pasty white men with beer bellies to buy them drinks. The bar was so crowded itā€™s so gawddamn difficult for me to get ice water to dilute my Heineken.

We were at a bar table located right next to an elevated platform where more tables were placed. There were two girls seated just in front of us. At first they were having dinner and talking to each other. Fine. Then two old white men with the most horrible set of teeth stopped by their table and chatted them up. Wah, started to giggle like hell already. Then two more SPGs joined them. I tell you, I think these girls work in a team.

Not long after, the four SPGs started dancing. Gyrating their hips from side to side, durrrrrrrrty dancing with each other to the delight of the two wrinkled pasty men. At one point, one of them even sort of flashed at the perverts by undoing her cardigan.

Ok fine. I was more than a bit tipsy after consuming one bloody glass of Heineken, my legs were numb and I was just chilling. Suddenly, a wave of coldness enveloped me. Stupid SPGs shook their hips so hard they managed to topple the table and spilt drinks over me.

Instant soberiety.

The SPGā€™s heads are deliberately painted smaller to indicate lack of grey matter

They were still giggling. I screamed at them, ā€œI THINK YOU OWE ME AN APOLOGY, Iā€™M DRENCHED!ā€. Then one of them offered me a half-baked apology which, to be honest, I wasnā€™t in a good state of mind to accept. I swear I was about to stomp up to the platform and punch them in the face one by one.

The culprit. I took this picture because itā€™s got Paulā€™s name. Notice the SPGs at the back.

Didnā€™t stay very long after that. Danced a bit to get my mind off my jeans which felt really heavy on my numb legs. It was a fun night nevertheless but Iā€™ve only worn my jeans for 2 days and now I have to wash it againā€¦tiu.

I had my first medical check-up.

On Saturday I went for a medical checkup. The company Iā€™m planning to work for is pretty anal about not paying for my impending cancer, regardless of body parts. My Dad dropped me off at the clinic, which was located in a dodgy area of downtown KL.

The clinic itself was a house of labyrinth, complete with winding stairs, long corridors and unlabelled rooms. It was more nerve-racking being at the clinic than at the job interviews; the place was seriously spooky. After asking a few members of the staff, I finally found the receptionist.

Anyway, I handed my documents to the surprisingly pleasant-faced lady and was asked to take a seat. But I went to the loo instead, courtesy of downing two big glasses of chinese tea at breakfast while watching my Dad devoured his delicious pork noodle. After that, I was called into a room and a girl handed me a small bottle reminiscent of Brandā€™s Chicken Essence. I told the girl I would try my best.

Trying to collect my pee after Iā€™ve peed, while squatting, would go down in history as one of the most unpleasant things Iā€™ve done. After shifting the weight on my feet for about 10 minutes, I finally got the tap going. It came in trickles, yes, trickles and even my hand wasnā€™t spared. Ah shut it, Kim, at least you got the bottle half filled I told myself. And the pee was clear so I was deriving some perverse pleasure fantasising about showing off my pee to the man with his bottle of sunshine yellow whom I saw earlier.

Handed my pee to the girl, had my blood taken and was told to wait again. Minutes later, I was asked to go to the x-ray room, where I was asked some questions that would make any virgin blushes. Confirmed that I wasnā€™t knocked up, I was told to undress and put on a hospital gown. After the innards of my chest and abdomen were scanned, I was told to enter another room.

There was a lady doctor, about 50 years old and owned one of the most advanced handphones in the market. She asked me a lot of questions regarding my familyā€™s medical history while examining my eyes, ears, throat and skin. After that, I was asked to undress and lie down. I grinned at her and she assured me that the door was locked. Then she started touching my boobs, for lumps I assume. It felt weird, being touched on the boobs in a non-sexual way.

After getting the boob massage, I had my blood pressure taken. The doctor frowned a bit. I got worried and asked her whatā€™s wrong. She said that my pressureā€™s a little high and that I ought to go out and relax a bit before having my blood pressure taken a second time. I told her she should have taken my blood pressure before checking my breasts.

After 15 minutes of imagining myself at the beach in the clinicā€™s lounge, I was asked to go into the room again and had my blood pressure checked. This time, it was normal. Phew. Then she told me that my left eye was not good and that I had to have it tested again with contact lense on. I cursed like a sailor in my mind, but told her in the nicest way that I donā€™t wear contacts. She said Iā€™d have to get a pair then.

So yeah, Iā€™m typing this with my contact lenses on. Trying to put them on the first time was an adventure of its own. Iā€™m glad itā€™s not as bad as I had expected. Itā€™s actually quite nice to see things in the distance clearly without glasses. Donā€™t think Iā€™ll wear them often though, still taking me about 1/2 hour just to put them on. Makes me want to crush the damn plastics sometimes.

Going back tomorrow with clear vision.