masterwordsmith-unplugged

Jet lag had taken its uncompromising toll and I awoke from my slumber around noon. Hunger and thirst are just as uncompromising and it was not without haste that the room service menu was scanned and an item or four were selected and the call to place my order, taken by a young man whose command of Ingrish seemed adequate though a little confused ,completed.

I looked around my room,a very well appointed room I may add,for something to take my mind off the pangs of hunger that wracked my shrivelled stomach.There was a bowl of delicious fruits sitting on the occasional table of my room that emitted signals of allure but no -I would wait the few moments, before my room service feast arrived,with determination and detachment. I would read of the delights of KL from the huge selection of material that was contained in an elegantly bound folder on the just as elegant,writing desk. Twenty minutes passed…thirty minutes passed - still no food.A quick call to room service was answered by a colleague of the young man who had originally taken my order.They were obviously more than just colleagues - they must have been school pals for they both spoke the same heavily accented Ingrish.

“Yes,Yes”, I was assured “foot is finish..on way now”. Within moments a knock at the door heralded the arrival of my “foot”. A splendidly dressed gentleman entered at my beckoning and deposited a very large,domed covered,tray onto the dining table dwelling only long enough to take the proffered 20 ringgit note with a slight bow of the head and a whispered”thank you sir”. It was with the speed of a thousand gazelles that the dome was dispensed with and the contents of the tray surveyed ..there sitting lonely and forlorn was burger and French fries and coffee.

I had ordered the butterfly tiger prawn in tomato, basil,and chili sauce starter,the selection of sea food salad with a light Italian dressing, a banana, orange,and tropical fruit tartlet garnished with fresh cream and to complete the gastronomic transport of delight a pot of Earl Grey tea.

I pondered long and hard. Should a call to room service be made or should I politely point out that my order had got mixed up with that of some other guest or should I make representation in the strongest of terms - no.I would do just like any English man would do and eat the bloody burger. Well, we no longer have the resources,as my forebears did, to send gunboats up rivers to deal with a rebellious populace diplomacy would be the watchword for today, even if it meant my palate would have to bear the assault from a dish that I don’t call food - it is a food for those devoid of taste buds…it,s a food for those who have no time for food. It is well described as junk food.

Showered and suitably dressed in tropical weight trousers and a crisp cotton shirt, I entered the lounge bar with an air of lighthearted abandon. I seated myself at the bar and awaited the attention of the lone barman who,in time honoured tradition,was depositing the moisture from his breath onto the inner and outer surfaces of glasses to be subsequently polished,with the same towel that he wiped down the bar, and stacked awaiting the unlucky customer who would return home with God knows what infections. As I was,within an hour or so,to start the next leg of my journey,the drive from KL to Kuantan, I thought it prudent to take a non-alcoholic drink but I wanted,also,to avoid a beverage that would be contained within a glass so recently inflicted with the barman's spittle.Something hot I thought…no…no… an ice cold beer wouldn't hurt …just one beer …drunk from the bottle.That will fit the bill.

A bottle of Carlsberg was ordered and,without asking,poured into a glass and delivered to my place at the bar.Again, without the arrogance that gunboat diplomacy offers, I hesitantly sipped the golden nectar and nodded,in thanks, to the barman in total surrender.

It was around this time I felt a sensation that I believed I would not experience in these climes.I was cold - in fact I was suffering from the onset of hypothermia. I was sat in a chair that was under attack from a chill wind that would not disgrace a January night on Bodmin moor. As I looked around to see if other customers were suffering as I was I noticed that all my companions at the bar were positioned on the opposite side of the room,not an overcoat or pair of gloves to be seen,happily chatting and laughing. My brief few strides across the room was akin to descending from an Alpine mountain into the lush,green,valley below…a temperature difference of roughly 20 degrees must be easily recorded within the confines of that bar. A knowing smile was directed at me from a seasoned regular attendee. I imagined that a similar smile was exchanged between Stanley and Livingstone when they met on the banks of Lake Tanganika,in 1871,each acknowledging the rigours and hardship that they had both endured to be at their destination.

With suitcase in attendance, I left the lift and made my way towards the concierge's desk.The hotel concourse was extremely busy with arrive,s registering their arrival and awaiting allocation of rooms.I patiently waited my turn and was eventually attended to by one of the ever so efficient looking clerks. I signed the account sheets that were put before me- three of them-offered my company credit card which was taken to an office situated behind the desk and waited for its return. Soon the ever so efficient clerk returned the card,and a map I had requested previously,and made for the exit into the car park hoping that the company that made the map was not the same company that made airport route cards.

It was to be only two hours before I realised just how efficient that young counter clerk had been when,after filling my hire car with fuel,it was noticed that the credit card I offered in payment was in fact not mine but the card belonging to a Mr. Choy May and, as my western features did not exactly fit the requirements needed to be the owner of a Chinese name,the authorities were called.

Oh the nasty things I wished on that ever so efficient young man as I explained to a non English speaking police officer who,thanks to the intervention of a fellow motorist who interpreted for me and a frantic call to the hotel,finally accepted that a mistake had been made and payment would be made in cash.

So - Lessons learnt today.

Lesson seven Always order a burger from room service - it saves on disappointment.

Lesson eight Without the presence of a gunboat all Englishmen are cowards.

Lesson nine Without doubt Malaysian air conditioning is the world's most efficient capable of bringing a Siberian winter to the Golden Triangle of downtown KL.

Lesson ten A westerner has a snowball in hell's chance of impersonating an Oriental.

Lesson Eleven All mothers must teach their children to check their credit cards before leaving the store/hotel/restaurant.

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You can read Journey of Enlightenment Part 1 at THIS LINK.

This post was written by a very dear blog reader who is now a very good friend. We have been corresponding via e-mail for almost a year now and I always look forward to his mails, each of which is deeply treaured. He comes from Scotland and has a beautiful wife and the most adorable daughter. Tony has written a few posts for me in this blog HERE, HERE, HERE and also AT THIS LINK. Thanks, Tony, for this wonderful write-up. We are waiting with bated breath for the next part of your story.

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