In Continuum.

Feeling Dirt Cheap

There are three reasons why my family decided to visit the restaurant over at Ang Mo Kio this evening for our family dinner. First of all, it's been a while since my dad has been home from overseas, and he was away when it was the Fathers' Day weekend last week. So today's dinner was supposed to be a celebration of sorts, though the term 'Fathers' Day' was never mentioned throughout the meal. Second reason being, that whenever we try to go to the same restaurant, there is always a ridiculously long queue in front of it, implying that the food must be drop dead good. Lastly, we miss eating crab. So there, enough reasons for my family to eat out today instead of my mother getting down and dirty in the kitchen, braving the heat from the stove and the heated pans. But what we did not expect, is to be treated like dirt at our tables - at least that is what I felt like throughout the evening, really.

We arrived at about ten minutes to six, and there was a disgustingly long queue in front of the restaurant itself. We were seated only at about 6.10pm, and it took a full hour for them to serve just four dishes. That is how inefficient those people were at the restaurant, and how slow everything worked around there despite the obvious popularity. My mother and I counted, and there were ten tables in our area, and only two of them were eating anything. The other tables were drinking their beverages, trying to ration their drinks so that they would still have something left when the dishes do come. But their dishes never came, and their cups were emptied by the time they did. The table next to me waited from 6.18pm to 6.47pm before their first dish came, talk about efficiency in a restaurant. It is as if they cared little if the customers got frustrated with the waiting or not, and disregarded the possibility that we could have just walked away from our tables.

Walking down the streets of Singapore, you are going to notice one thing. You are going to notice the dozen banners and posters hanging everywhere, promoting the night life of Singapore, or the places of attraction dotted all over Singapore, with people smiling and pointing to cable cars or a couple fine dining to a candle light by the Singapore River. They are not larger-than-life claims, because these tourist spots do exists in Singapore, and they do look more or less the same as portrayed. The thing about Singapore is that this is a country that puts a heavy emphasis on tourism as a source of income, and they have been doing quite a good job I must say, to attract tourists here to this puny country somewhere in the middle of Southeast Asia by promoting themselves as a food and shopping hub of the region. But there is a very serious problem in the service industry in Singapore that tourists are never going to notice because they do not see that side of the coin. And here's what.

To be honest, of all the countries that I have been to, Singapore has probably the worst service attitude ever. You walk into a random shop, and you are just going to find yourself feeling unimportant and dirt cheap. I understand that there are people out there who prefers to be left alone while shopping, who enjoys picking out necklaces or earrings in their own time, instead of having a shop attendant follow you around like a servant of sorts. However, I think everybody wants to feel appreciated somehow, to feel remotely important when they are visiting a certain shop in a mall. After all, there are a dozen substitutes out there, a bunch of other shops we can visit. If we choose to visit your shop, at least have the decency to greet us, or to be appreciative of us. That is the case if you are a Caucasian, or if you sound like you are from overseas. If you are local and they know that you are local, you will be grouped mentally into the 'Dirt' category and swept aside.

That is the kind of service you get in ordinary shops in Singapore, unless you are going to shop at other high-end shops like LV or Prada. If you are walking into a gift shop and expecting a good service attitude, you might as well go to the drain next to the road and look for gold. In Singapore, most attendant's attitude is as goes: We are paid minimum wage and we can't even get by comfortably with our lives. Entertaining to customers is thus, out of our work quota. To them, managing the shops and making sure that customers do not stuff clothes into their handbags is as far as their duties go. Of course, the basic courtesy like not beating up a customer when they are not the most friendly people in the world, still stands. However, there are countries whereby they really go the distance to serve the customers better, to make them feel important even if it is just extra work on their part.

I have been to a couple of other Asian countries, so it is going to be unfair to say that this is an Asian culture thing. In Taiwan, you walk into a shop and the first thing you notice is not going to be the music playing in the background but rather the greeting from the shop owner. I remember taking a stroll down DanShui in January of this year, just picking through the gift shops that lined the river when the shop owner yelled at me from the inside of the shop. Turning around, I saw her million watt smile and an imaginary sun beaming from behind her. Though I was just passing by the shop, I was so touched by her warmth that I bought a few random things there and left - the things being a harmonica which I have no use of, and a matchbox with Audrey Hepburn printed on the cover. The point is, even as a random customer who was just looking around, at least I felt appreciated for that period of time I was in the shop. That's the big different between Taiwan and Singapore. At least there, you really feel welcomed, even if you are having the worst day of your life. Just visit a random shop on the streets, and you are going to feel so much better.

In Japan, the same story. But instead of having just one shop owner greeting you at the door, everybody bows to your arrival when you enter. I remember the time when I was visiting Japan in the summer of 2003, when the family which mine stayed with brought us to a restaurant nearby. It was a normal restaurant, probably in the price-vicinity of Jack's Place in Singapore, and the furnishes inside the restaurant wasn't the best in the world, but comfortable. However, the way we were received made me feel as if we just stepped into a five-star hotel of sorts. The waiters and waitresses would all greet you with their smiles, bowing while they stand perfectly still from wherever they are. Even when you are leaving the restaurant, all of them would line themselves up at the front door to see you off. That is the kind of service the Japanese service industry provides, because they see every customer as a 'blessing' of sorts. If you are feeling down with self-esteem and wants to feel like a divine being for a moment, go to Japan.

Imagine walking into a shop with the shop owner painting her fingernails at the counter because there aren't a lot of customers around. In Taiwan, she is going to stop whatever she is doing and attend to you, even if her nails are still wet from the polish. In Singapore, if you see her at the back of the counter painting her nails as you walk in, you are probably going to expect her to continue on to her toe nails unless you make a sound of some kind to catch her attention. In Singapore, people would rather have an empty shop to attend to than a busy one, because you get less work and more free time to yourself. In other countries, it is the exact opposite of the situation, because people really do appreciate you more, and conjures up every trick up their sleeves to make you stay in their shop. Here, it is up to you if you want to leave or stay, and they care little about that, whatsoever.

Just two weeks ago, I was in Bugis area on a Saturday to have a poster printed. However, I was a few minutes late at that time, and the shop I usually go to was closed already. So I had to find other shops in the area to get my poster printed for the birthday celebration happening a few hours later. Finding my way through the rundown mall just next to the usual shop along Bencoolen Road, I found another shop that offers the same kind of service. However, by 'service', I am referring to the printing service, and not the attitude the shop owners have towards you. In the other shop, my sister knows the owner and thus, he was nice enough to have a small chat with me as the posters were printed. This time, I walked in without even knowing who the hell owned the shop.

The shop was in an utter disarray, with printed materials lying everywhere and nobody behind the cashier to direct me around. There were giant printers, a row of computers, and a few customers standing around like statues just waiting for their turn to be served. But looking around, I hardly recognized the shop owner at all until somebody pointed her out for me. She was a plump lady in her mid twenties, dressed in her denim sling pants and a simple top. She was sitting at the computer unit, clicking away on her mouse and editing pictures. So I went up to her and asked her which computer unit I could use to get my poster printed. She ignored me throughout the whole time of the following conversation - if it was a conversation at all:

Me," Hey, excuse me?"
[Fat Bitch turns around and gives me a look of a dead fish]
Me," Hi, I need to print..."
[Fat Bitch turns back to the computer screen]
Me," I need to print an A3 sized poster, which computer unit can I use?"
[Fat Bitch points to the unit next to hers, without looking at me]
Me," Ok, thanks. Where do I plug this?"
Fat Bitch," The way you'd normally plug an USB cable."
Me," Right, OK. What do I do now?"
Fat Bitch," Open the file."
Me," OK. Done. I need to print on an..."
Fat Bitch," Wait."

That 'Wait' lasted for a lifetime. Her father, or uncle, was a laconic man twice the size of her, and he roamed the shop like a shadow and spoke little most of the time. He was busy in the corner slicing papers, and cared little if his assistant was doing any assisting at all. So I stood there like an idiot, waiting for her to finish her 'waiting'. When it was finally done, she came to me and asked which paper I'd like my poster to be printed on, and the following conversation ensued. Once again, that is if you consider it a conversation at all.

Fat Bitch," What kind of paper do you want it on?"
Me," Art card, please. Thanks."
[Fat Bitch squeezes pass me to get to the printer]
Me," How much would that be?"
Fat Bitch," You pay later."
Me," Alright then."
[I stood around like an idiot once more to wait for the poster to be printed. That took another life time, and I felt old by the end of it.]

I'm sure it might just be one of those days, that everything was working against you. Perhaps you woke up on the wrong side of bed, or maybe the mattress collapsed under your sheer weight. But please, there are a dozen different printing shops in the area that I could have gone to, but I chose your bloody shop to get my work done. So if you are going to bring that fucked up attitude to your workplace and treat every customer like dirt, I could have very well left and not pay for the poster that you printed. It is not about me getting my poster, but rather how you treated me like I did not exist at all. There were money I was willing to pay in my wallet, and judging from how appreciative you treated everybody in the shop, it just seemed like you didn't want those money at all. If you are not going to entertain to my needs with the most basic courtesy, I really didn't see the need of me giving you any courtesy at all in return. Oh yeah, the next time when I do meet you, don't call me 'Boy'. And don't fucking shout at me when I didn't notice your call. I might have been drawing up a master plan to blow up your bloody shop. So don't, under any circumstances, disturb me.

There are a lot of other different cases of customer-abused I have experienced, but that is merely the most recent one(Not counting the rude Indian at the Prata House the other day with Ahmad, the one who spilled Milo over my pants and left without saying a word). But that is not to say that everybody of the service industry in Singapore treats their customers dirt cheap. I do enjoy small talks with cab drivers, especially those who work in the night shift. There are also the nicer ones who are willing to pay you minimal attention, or offer their help even when you obviously don't need it. It is not about whether a customer really needs your aid or not, but about the afford to make them feel that you are there to assist them when needed. We are customers, and though we may not always be right, we do have the right - however - to step out of the shop and spend our money elsewhere. Singapore is doing a great job by putting up a front to the Caucasian tourists, but they failed miserably when they are dealing with their OWN people.

Until they decide to change their attitudes, I guess we are always going to feel dirty cheap whenever we are ordering our food or shopping for clothes. But I guess this is a sort of contrast, just to make us more appreciative when we do meet up with nicer people of the population. At least these vile pigs are worth something, I guess, however worthless they may be.