On Gettin' Piggy Wid It.

So there I was apologizing away to Singaporean drivers, and the next day (after cussing at them all under my breath on the way to work again) there is the headline on the front page of The Island Tribune: “McDonald's says sorry to Singapore”.

What the … ?

McDonald’s doesn’t say sorry to anyone.

Heck, this is a company that has been known to shut down a store when its staff threatened to join a union – and then open up a new store across the road under a new franchisee. Why they’ve even pulled the stores right out of a whole country when the locals didn’t play Right.

It turns out that while most of western folk just celebrated New Year, the Chinese are about to celebrate theirs next month. So a clever marketer at McD’s comes up with the idea to make a few extra coins by flogging little plastic toys that depict the animals of the Chinese zodiac calendar. It turns out there are 12 of the little critters.

Seems like a good plan.

Then someone from HR must have come late into the meeting. Because I can only gather the meeting then went something like this:

Marketing: “So here are the pre-run samples for the 12 miniature cartoon figurines of the Chinese Zodiac calendar. Market analysis suggests we can sell each of these at $2 - $3 with each Happy Meal.”

HR: “Is that a little pig?”

Marketing: “Well, I think they prefer to call it a wild boar. But sure, if you were born in 2007, or back in ’71, well then you were born in the year of the Pig.”

HR: “Won’t the Muslim population on The Island be offended?”

[Finance, Customer Service, and Production managers avert eyes, and begin neatly arranging their pens.]

Marketing: “What the …? There are 12 signs in their zodiac! Exactly how culturally sensitive is it to reduce it to 11?”

HR: “Well, what does the Boar Pig represent?”

[Marketing makes quick phone call to assistant.]

Marketing: “Gallantry. Virility. Or something like that.”

So now Mickey Dee’s is apologizing to us for replacing the Wild Boar with a Cupid figurine. Happy Valentine’s Day.

Now there are so many places to go with this, and … Whoah. Hang on. What does that say … ?

“Sat on boyfriend; killed him”

You.

Are.

Kidding Me.

I’m afraid you’ll have to put the ironies of the McD’s story together yourself.

Because The Island Tribune has been kind enough to provide some more fine journalistic work from those folks over at Fair and Unbalanced News, and I’ve just skimmed the essential details: 136kg vs 54kg, sat, face. And read the next line “... apologized for squashing the father of her children.”

I don’t know why I bother writing these blobs of tripe when that sort of stuff is being reported daily from back at my old trailer park.

On Gettin' Jiggly Wid It

Well this is awkward.

I now need to send out a deep apology to the men, the women, expats, and any pimply-faced, probation-licensed teens that I may have singled out or offended in my diatribes on driving the Singaporean roads and expressways.

Sure that whole swerve-into-a-lane-without-indicating thing is a little irritating.

And yeah, that thing you do with the turn-a-corner-from-any-lane-you-choose-into-any-lane-you’d-like, sure does get stuck in my craw.

And sure, it seemed like driving a moped with the cubic capacity of a thermometer, at 80km per hour faster than it was designed to go (in my blind spot) appeared to be a dangerous maneuver.

I’m sorry.

Or as my new friends (the crafty Koreans) would say: “Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Shawty. Shawty. Shawty. I’m going crazy, crazy baby”. Oops. Got a bit carried away there, Super Junior. (Perhaps those cheeky Poms, The Vapors, were more prophetic than I’d realized back in 1980.)

I’m very sorry.

Because I’ve now been to Malaysia.

It was a short trip. Technically I was in a vehicle on four occasions. It felt like forty-four occasions. (It's hard to tell with your eyes squeezed shut while gripping the seat in white-knuckled fear.)

To be fair, two of the occasions I was passenger to a work colleague who drove remarkably carefully … particularly given the sheer random chaos that was taking place on the “road” around him. I use the word road carefully, as it would appear that if you are in a vehicle in that country, then a driver need not limit himself to the “road”. He is entitled to use bits of sidewalk, median strips, ramps or people as part of the general carriageway.

So the other two occasions on the Malay bitumen were in “taxis”.

And I use the word taxi carefully, as I wouldn’t want to create the impression that a taxi is some type of licensed, street-worthy vehicle that is carefully regulated by a transport authority.

Apparently I could have used some liquid paper to scrawl the word “meter” (correct spelling optional) to a digital watch, sticky-taped it to the dashboard of my first car (a $50 Torana), and placed a cardboard sign with the word “taxi” (spelling optional) in the rear window … and I could have earned a few Ringgits.

So I learned a few things on my journeys to and from the airport in a “taxi”:
1. Having a seatbelt is mandatory.
2. Having something the seatbelt actually plugs into is optional.
3. Despite what your 8th grade Physics teacher will try to tell you, it is in fact possible to experience G-Forces in a 1.6 litre 1986 Nissan Sentra (that’s a Nissan Sunny to you Singaporeans, and an ’86 Pulsar to you Aussies … and I ain’t even gonna try to describe this vee-hic-le to you, Jethro).
4. It turns out there is a Shock Sensor in my laptop. And, although it is somewhat validating that technology is confirming your concerns about whether land-based vehicles should be moving so swiftly in lateral direction, you know you are in trouble when your PC starts shutting things down.

So I say Sorry. Shawty.

On Black Beans

So while I’m wandering The Island solo (the wife and tatertots are dodging bushfires in a sun burnt land), I see the sign:

“No. 1 Premium Coffee in Korea”

OK. You’ve caught my eye.

Why you cheeky promotional sign, you.

Clearly, you know I love enormous pitchers of strong, black, Arabica coffee beans in steaming hot water. And you obviously know that I’m a slut when it comes to gimmicks and quirky displays. (Even when you slip the word “premium” into the phrase to make it a tautology.) Tell me more, you cheeky Asian marketing hook…

The sign read Tom Toms.

Oops, no - - on closer inspection it is “Tom N Toms”.

Now you’ve got my attention.

Those cunning Koreans have slipped a GPS into a Coffee cup. (Speed camera in 100 meters. Place coffee in left hand. Please Slow Down. Long medium drink ahead. Burn lips here.)

So I’ve pretty much got this blog written as I amble across the pavement to TNT. (Did the Marketing department think through that acronym?). And then when the décor appears to be a Korean version of Starbucks, I’m thinking this must be a franchise from the southern Koreans, not from the northern land run by the little feller with the tiny willy. No, at this point, I’m thinking I don’t need to change a line of my pre-written prose.

I order a large long black (which after some to- and fro- with the nervous, young, uniformed lady behind the counter I concede to be a “Grande” black coffee). I get served a shot of Expresso in a “Grande” cup … now I know I don’t need to change a single word of the blob I’d written in my tiny mind as I’d crossed the street.

Then I wheel around to find a table under an air-conditioner, and there it was …

A promotional banner.

Now, to set the scene … I am quite experimental when it comes to mixing beverages with exotic foods. For example: Cheese Pizza and Red Wine. Or Chilli Dogs and Bourbon + Coke (no ice). Heck, this one time (at Band Camp) I even dazzled my colleagues with my culinary conjecture by drinking a Coopers Sparkling with my Cocoa Pops.

So the TNT banner has Pretzels.

Many Pretzels.

Many flavors of Pretzels.

Mmmm. Salty pretzels.

Sure there wasn’t a GPS in my Expresso. But to combine tasty Pretzels with steaming hot Coffee? That’s like Wow. Like Wipeout.

We have so much to learn from you crafty Koreans.