in the past 7 months i've been a warehouse stocktaker, shenton way girl, telemarketer, events crew member, teacher, and waitress.. brings to mind cherry stones, some random poem by A.A.Milne. been quite an eventful seven months...and i guess some post mortem of my waitressing job would be in order. being a regular maid at cha cha cha. there i've said it, now all you nosey buggers can go check out the goddamn fugly uniform we had to wear, complete with the black apron and khaki coloured shirt with some clip art cactus printed on the front. started out absolutely abhorring my boss, but at the end of it actually being rather fond of her. talking to her during morning shifts, lucky me sampling her cooking, listening to her insipid jokes and her ah soh observations and her bitching about lousy spaghetti at nydc (i found out what the D in nydc stands for yday!) miss the other staff, remember marcus teaching me the menu on the first day, jeff showing me the dos and don'ts of lighting up the tealights, darren bitching in hokkien, helping hanwei grate the cheese, going with royston to bank in my first pay. jimmy calling me sister, actually calling me at 9.45 to wake me up for work, running with him down the slope to the backdoor cuz we were late, him pushing me out of the kitchen when he thought joyce was on the warpath and to stop me from getting into trouble. fred the patient accomodating manager, james the gruff but endearing fat manager. remember especially the day jas aroro came to cha with his bollywood girlfriend, me going crazy just standing at the door trying to take photos much to mel's disbelief and total disgust, presenting him with the bill and snapping pics of his gold visa card, later lighting up the candles on lim yu beng's mother's birthday cake with joyce, me and mel trying desperately to shield the flames from the air con draft, then lim yu beng himself presenting us with one generous slice of that to-die-for secret recipe choc cake. quite surreal really, haa groupie is my middle name wouldn't you know it.
and i'll miss sprinting down lorong mambong in the morning, the infamous latecomer that i am. miss seeing george's (from the now defunct george's steaks and ribs) cat sleeping on the nydc air con radiator on lazy hot afternoons, sitting at my favourite seat at the bar just counting the minutes to 3 'o clock. wouldn't trade it any of it for the world.

ooh and here's the rather quaint and whimsical poem
cherry stones by A.A. Milne

tinker, tailor,
soldier, sailor,
rich man, poor man,
ploughboy, thief-
and what about a cowboy,
policeman, jailer,
engine-driver,
or pirate chief?
what about a Postman- or a Keeper at the Zoo?
what about the Circus Man who lets the people through?
and the man who takes the pennies for the roundabouts and swings?
or the man who plays the organ, and the other man who sings?
what about a conjuror with rabbits in his pockets?
what about a rocket man who's always making rockets?
oh, there's such a lot of things to do and such a lot to be
that there's always lots of cherries on my little cherry tree!