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Clothes maketh the man

I was on a plane home and was making small talk with the lady who sat in the same row as me. I'm not one for chit-chatting but you know it's one of those things when you are on a plane: it would be rude and perak not to say a few words to your immediate neighbour. Especially since I had just climbed over the her lap to get the window seat.

Neighbour: So, where do you live in KL?

Moi: I live in Subang actually. I'm on leave from work, so I'm going home to see my parents.

Neighbour: Oh, so you work in a factory here?

Moi: (trying to keep a straight face) Uh, no.

At this point, some would say that I should have puffed out my chest, turn up my nose and say in my haughtiest voice, "Hey, saya doktor tau!"

Truthfully, it would be more embarrassing for me than her if I did say that. Not that there's anything wrong in being a factory worker, and I'm not so full of myself that I'd get offended if people don't lick my arse and say, "Ya Tuan Doktor" every time they see me.

I was rather bemused though, because it just drove home the point that my mother used to make - that I don't always make an effort to look nice when I go out.

But dear God, doesn't looking groomed 24/7 consume such a lot of energy and brain power? At least I'm always clean. I may have been wearing a baggy purple t-shirt and frayed jeans a size too big for me cinched in with a belt and selipar Jepun, but by God those clothes were ironed!

Comments

Anonymous said…
Join the club sista. I've lost the number of times i've been mistaken for an maid. Sometimes i wouldnt mind being one though!
jat said…
but putih people don't work in factories!!!
Kere said…
How come no one ever mistakes us for models? :) :)

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