Boss, Kira!

May 23rd, 2007

there is this mamak stall near my place that i frequent. though to call it a mamak stall is a misnomer, because it is most definitely not the usual roadside or tepi longkang (translation : next to a drain. free waste disposal channels are always a plus for mamak stall proprietors on a budget) mamak stall usually lit with nothing but starlight and one flourescent light tube. but at the same time, it falls short of being called a restaurant or a cafe, for a reason i cant quite pin down.

long-time patrons of this place would remember a time where customers could opt to sit outside the little corner lot that this mamak stall operated from, in the open air and at plastic tables and chairs set up in a roadside area that served as parking spaces by day. back then, the most outrageous thing on the menu was bubble tea, and their decision to serve crushed ice in their drinks instead of the usual ice cubes was the talk of the town. a handful of shy Indian men ran the place, and you really didnt want to know where they kept their ice.

these shy Indian men have since bought over the mechanic’s workshop next door, and while the refurbished ex-workshop saw a brief glory period of being a shady snooker hall, it’s now been renovated into an extension of the mamak stall. from a dingy little lot bought when real estate prices were low, this place has graduated to become a people’s favourite, a hangout for young and old alike, an aggrandized foodstall with an extensive array of victuals that go way beyond the usual mamak fare of teh tarik and roti kosong with curry. heck, they even have wifi to entice the growing percentage of Web-savvy population. now you can check your blog comments over your maggi goreng! but you still dont want to know where they keep their ice.

random memories i have of this place :

celebrating my high school history teacher’s birthday. yes in a mamak, because he is so indian that way. we bought him a cake even though he cowers like a baby at the sight of sugar

all the times in Form 3 that waimin and i would stay here talking nonsense till 5 in the morning

Kevlar teaching me how to play pool. i was getting damn good at it too, but then we broke up

SPM month when i came here at 4am every morning for coffee and last-minute cramming

discovering poori

discovering thai coconuts

the time someone tried to pick me up by sending a plate of fries over to our table. wtf?

watching in horror as the cashier girl got slapped and hit by the owner of the place. he later took a tray of forks and spoons and threw it in her face. she had the biggest bump on her forehead for weeks after that

mee rebus and maggi kon lou with Martian after one of our Mont Kiara nights

being stalked

testing the owner’s Cantonese

a guy named Michael

buying DVDs with Timtam that i never watched

lynn-nee falling down even though i didnt see it

shishaing boredom away while watching footie with the boys

never coming here with azlan

discovering kaya cheese naan!!!!!!!

giving a beggar money and then having a guy from the next table come over to tell me that i shouldnt support the soliciting of money

talking about sex with jinhang and sieutheng

kok wai puking all over our shoes after clubbing one night

accidentally walking into their Mr Potato stand and knocking over all the Mr Potato tubes and then laughing like a hyena and stacking them all back according to colour

racing here with my brothers and then racing back

the time my brother gave my phone number to a DVD peddler in return for free dvds

i’m actually sitting here in this mamak nursing a coffee and trying to study for my SATs which is in about 10 days. panic panic panic! and the reason i felt so compelled to blog my love for this mamak stall is because they recently started serving diet coke. how can i not love this place even more now?

Entry Filed under: General, Musings

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