About "Crap-menti" Central

Can someone please remind me (If I should ever decide to move out...) to shift to a place where there's a HUGE ASS mall in the vicinity. Freaking Clementi Central sucks shit!

Why??? Oooh boy...

1) NO MUSIC SHOPS.

I walked around the whole damn "town" and the closest things I could find to a CD shop were a Video Ezy store that sold MTV DVDs and a miserable 2-table stall under a dirty awning, right smack next to a fruit vendor.

Not even bothering with the 1st option, I edged my way around a crate of watermelons, got elbowed by 2 ladies haggling over the price of durians and waved like crazy to get the stall owner's attention. He was, however, too engrossed in the Chinese porn-ish tabloid magazine draped over his lap. Finally, I spoke up, raising my voice to several decibals above the techno Christmas carols blasting out of the speaker next to me.

Me: Uncle...
Stall owner: *continues to gawk at magazine page featuring Chinese woman with big breasts*
Me: *screeches* UNNNNNNNCLE!!!
Stall owner: *looks up and blinks* Har? Ya? (Translated: What? Yes?)
Me: Do you have Jay Chou's new album?
Stall owner: Har? What new burm? You say what Jay?
Me: *bites inside of cheek in attempt not to roll eyes* 请问有没有周杰伦的新专辑?
Stall owner: Orh. 那边! (Translated: Overe there!) *points to a random spot on the table in front of me*

I edge over, trying to avoid the water dripping off the awning as well as the big murky puddles around the table. After I spend a couple of minutes searching, the idiot reaches over and throws a CD in front of me...

Stall owner: Nor! Dis one lor! (Translated: There! This one!)
Me: 嗯... 这张是他旧的专辑, 我要找的是<11月的萧邦>. (Translated: This is an older album, the 1 I'm looking for is called "November Chopin".)
Stall owner: Har? What bang?
Me: 专辑叫<11月的萧邦>! (Translated: The album is called "November Chopin"!) *curses as some fucking wanker stomps by, splashing dirty puddle water all over*
Stall owner: 噢... 没有货了... 你明天回来啦! (Translated: Oh! No more stock already... Come back tomorrow lah!)
Me: ...
Stall owner: *goes back to drooling over scantily-clad women*

2) NO DAMN TOILETRIES.

I was flat out of tampons and a shitload of other toiletries, so I made my way over to Watsons intending to stock up for both home and the office. I walked in... And promptly tripped over a loose tile on the floor. After a rather indignified attempt at righting myself, I made my way over to the sanitary pad "section"... And found myself frowning at the "huuuuuuuuuuuge" selection of products they had, stacked haphazardly on 2 shelves.

Kotex. Sofy. Laurier. Whisper. Pads. Pads. Pads. Pads. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Where the fuck was the Tampax or O.B?

Grumbling under my breath, I walked (Very carefully!) over to the cashier to ask where their tampons were stocked, only to realize that "she" was actually an old Malay man with greasy long-ish hair. Ick. No fucking way.

I looked around... The only other "option" I had was a skinny, pimply-faced Chinese dude (Where the fuck were all the women salespeople?! And why do all the guys look like they're in desperate need of a shower?!), who was busy re-stocking the deodorant shelf. Deciding that he was the lesser of 2 evils, I tiptoed my way around the baskets surrounding him and waggled my fingers in front of his oily-looking specs.

Me: Excuse me... *waggles fingers*
Oily dude: Yesh? Canhelpchu? (Translated: Yes? Can I help you?)
Me: I was just wondering where the tampons are... *smiles politely*
Oily dude: Errr.
Me: Ahmmm... You do sell tampons, right?
Oily dude: Tammmm... Ponnnns... Errr... Ahhh... Tammm... Hmmm... Use for what ah?
Me: ...
Me: *takes deep breath and struggles not to gag* Nevermind. Thank you.
Oily dude: Errr. *goes back to arranging bottles of deodorant*

Unfortunately, after about 5 minutes, I had no choice but to interrupt him again.

Me: *waggles fingers in front of oily-looking specs* I'm sorry, but do you sell talcum powder?
Oily dude: Har? What powder ah?
Me: You know... Body powder? Like Johnsons Baby Powder?
Oily dude: Orrrrrrr. No. Dunhaf. (Translated: Oh. No. Don't have.)
Me: Ok... What about Biore Pore Packs?
Oily dude: Dunhaf.
Me: Ooooook... And do you carry any brand of toothpaste besides Colgate?
Oily dude: Dunhaf.
Me: ...

I vaguely remembered that there was a Guardian Pharmacy on the other end of Clementi Central and decided to try my luck there instead... Unfortunately, all I got was a horrid sense of deja vu.

Me: Hi... Do you sell talcum powder?
Oily chick: Dunhaf.
Me: Biore Pore Packs?
Oily chick: Also dunhaf.
Me: *a little tiredly* What about toothpaste? Do you sell any other brand besides Colgate?
Oily chick: *irritated at my continuous questions* Nor!!! Corrr-gayte lor!!! (Translated: There! Colgate!)
Me: ...

3) NO BLOODY AIR CON.

Despite the sweltering heat, most of the shops had turned the air conditioning off, evidently in an attempt to cut back on their electric bills.

I walked into Watsons, Guardian Pharmacy, Video Ezy, Big Bookshop, Giordano, a VCD/DVD shop and 2 bakeries... And with the exception of the 1st 2 locations, I couldn't make myself spend more than 2 minutes inside each shop. The reason? Stuffy interiors, profuse sweating, a variety of body odours, oily-looking customers and even oilier-looking salespeople. Fucking gross...

4) NO MORE FREAKING CHICKEN.

Deciding that enough was enough, I decided to buy my dinner and head home. I'd developed a craving for chicken rice before leaving the house and I knew exactly which part of Clementi Central I wanted to buy it from.

Me to my maid as I left the house at 7pm: Don't bother cooking dinner for me, ok? I'll get my own dinner on the way back.

FYI, I don't eat breast meat and I prefer roast chicken. :P So there I was, 90 minutes later...

Me: Auntie... 烧鸡腿饭, 包的, 谢谢... (Translated: Roast chicken rice, drumstick, take away... Thank you.)
CRA (for Chicken Rice Auntie): 噢! 没有烧鸡了... (Translated: Oh! There's no more roast chicken...)
Me: 不要紧... 给我白鸡腿啦! (Translated: That's ok... I'll take white chicken drumstick.)
CRA: 嗯... 白鸡只剩鸡胸肉. (Translated: We only have breast meat left for the white chicken.)
Me: ...

*sniffs* All in all? Not a good day. After a quick cigarette at the butt ugly fountain outside McDonalds (I spent the entire 5 minutes stewing and fuming over how crappy the entire place was), I couldn't get home quick enough.

Me to my maid as I trudge in at 9pm: Hallo... I'm back. Is there anything to eat?
My maid: *indignent tone* No! I thought you said you were going to settle your own dinner? I didn't cook enough for you lah!
Me: That's ok... *sighs and plods despondantly to kitchen to make instant noodles*

30 seconds later...

Me: Ahmmm... No more noodles ah?
My maid: Oh! I think your brother ate the last pack this afternoon. I'll go down and buy some more later, ok?
Me: Ok. *forages sadly in cupboards for crackers and instant soup instead*

Brilliant way to end my day, don't you think?

2 words. Fucking A.