Is my ruined dinner only worth S$2?
I just ticked off the manager of an Italian restaurant over dinner just now.
I refused to pay service charge and then I got so tired of his attitude, I demanded a discount on top of not paying the 10% service (which the restaurant has included in the bill).
So that fellow said, ok, I'll give you a discount and he promptly docked 15% off the total bill (before taxes) and left the $5.10 service charge there.
Well the waiters messed up our orders!
Could not even handle three items - ham and melon, linguine marinara, Hawaiian pizza.
Was it that difficult?
And we were seated in the smoking section because the manageress (some dumb woman) assured friend that we were in the upwind position and so won't be getting smoke.
So damned wrong - we were human air purifiers.
And then when we asked the waiter back to verify the orders, he came back with only 2 items.
After the orders were corrected, the dumb waiter left the order chit on the counter and it was not recorded.
We waited endlessly for the food.
When my pangs began, I asked one of the waiters "how much longer do I have to wait before my food arrives?" He said he'll check.
Then I saw him pick up the order chit, send it to the manager to get it keyed into the system.
And he went to scold the fellow who took our orders and never came back to tell us how much longer we had to wait.
Two eternities later, we asked another waiter and he said our ham and melon is coming. The dish was served and then the waiting game continues.
Finally we couldn't take it anymore; I made friend go up to the manager to tell him to cancel our orders.
But the manager said food is on the way up. And they did come up but by then the entire night was ruined.
When food was placed on the table, I had to ask for cheese and chili flakes as well as additional plates as we were sharing.
And all this while, food was being served to the others!
And most didn't have to wait for more than 10 min before the first dish arrived.
So when it came to paying, I told friend to get the manager.
We disputed the service charge and asked not to pay. He agreed and offered the discount. And when he came over with the 15% without removing the service charge, I refused to pay. I told the waiter to get the manager back.
So when he came, I asked him what discount I am looking at.
He said, 15% (of $51) discount. So I said, less 5.10 (or 10%) service charge.
So what is the real discount?
He said $2 lor.
And I said, is this an insult? Do you think I cannot afford $2?
I told him to jolly well put the $2 plus back if they so cannot absorb it.
And three eternities later, he returned without another bill showing 15% discount and $5.10 service charge removed.
I'd made it easier - I'd given the cheapest dish on the house and close the case.
Cheapest dish plus the offending service charge.
This would definitely assuage the anger of the customer.
Al Dente Trattoria - service F, food D
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Broken Ware
Broken Ware
Went to Mustafa's. As I walked around, I notice a large number of pieces of broken ware. It isn't a very pretty sight. It must be quite some losses each month.
Wonder why Mustafa's does not consider widening its aisle? What about employing its employees in a better manner? What about having retainers to prevent things from falling off so easily? Or not having fragile items on high shelves or too many items on any shelf?
A store that wants to be profitable must reduce unnecessary wastage. Some of the damaged items are not cheap.
I recall opening a bag of bathroom rugs ($19.90) and immediately a "security" guy rushed up to me. I checked the rugs and replaced them before he made any noise. But comparing the $19.90 rugs and the many pieces of chipped and broken crockery, pots, pans that cost much more than that, why are people deployed here?
Went to Mustafa's. As I walked around, I notice a large number of pieces of broken ware. It isn't a very pretty sight. It must be quite some losses each month.
Wonder why Mustafa's does not consider widening its aisle? What about employing its employees in a better manner? What about having retainers to prevent things from falling off so easily? Or not having fragile items on high shelves or too many items on any shelf?
A store that wants to be profitable must reduce unnecessary wastage. Some of the damaged items are not cheap.
I recall opening a bag of bathroom rugs ($19.90) and immediately a "security" guy rushed up to me. I checked the rugs and replaced them before he made any noise. But comparing the $19.90 rugs and the many pieces of chipped and broken crockery, pots, pans that cost much more than that, why are people deployed here?
Spoilt Music Player
Spoilt Music Player
Sat, 16 Sep
Ate at the Shanghainese restaurant where their music player was spoilt. It took an eternity to finish a song.
The waitress complained that the boss was such a cheapo that he had preferred to wait till the player is entirely damaged before replacing it.
I'm not going back there any time soon.
Sat, 16 Sep
Ate at the Shanghainese restaurant where their music player was spoilt. It took an eternity to finish a song.
The waitress complained that the boss was such a cheapo that he had preferred to wait till the player is entirely damaged before replacing it.
I'm not going back there any time soon.
50 Cents
50 Cents
Sat, 16 Sep
Went to Tiong Bahru Market for dinner and in the end, stopped at a roadside shop to eat Shanghainese food instead.
Shopped at an adjacent household store and found the floor wiper that I had really really wanted for the longest time.
My leg has been covered with nappy rash since I moved to the new place because the toilet floor never dried up fast enough. With this little rubber wiper, I could sweep away the bath water after my bath to aid the floor drying.
The entire contraption cost $6.50 and I didn't think it was worth that much. Perhaps $5.80 or so. So I asked the salesgirl if she could give me a little discount.
She said that she isn't the boss and she couldn't make decisions. She also said that it was very difficult to give a discount on such an item. So I asked her, what items can you give a discount then?
That was not altogether tongue-in-cheek because I do see things which I want to buy.
Then, in front of an earlier customer she was serving, she asked, "I can give you a 50-cent discount. You won't want it right?"
I went, "Huh? Of course I would take it. Who would argue with 50 cents?"
The other customer looked in disbelief. Who in the right frame of mind would not want a 50-cent discount? Never mind that it is not much but if you add up all the savings, you'd have some substantial amount!
So she said, "Ok loh. If it makes you happy..."
"Of course I am very happy. How much do you think I was asking for when I asked for a little discount?"
Sat, 16 Sep
Went to Tiong Bahru Market for dinner and in the end, stopped at a roadside shop to eat Shanghainese food instead.
Shopped at an adjacent household store and found the floor wiper that I had really really wanted for the longest time.
My leg has been covered with nappy rash since I moved to the new place because the toilet floor never dried up fast enough. With this little rubber wiper, I could sweep away the bath water after my bath to aid the floor drying.
The entire contraption cost $6.50 and I didn't think it was worth that much. Perhaps $5.80 or so. So I asked the salesgirl if she could give me a little discount.
She said that she isn't the boss and she couldn't make decisions. She also said that it was very difficult to give a discount on such an item. So I asked her, what items can you give a discount then?
That was not altogether tongue-in-cheek because I do see things which I want to buy.
Then, in front of an earlier customer she was serving, she asked, "I can give you a 50-cent discount. You won't want it right?"
I went, "Huh? Of course I would take it. Who would argue with 50 cents?"
The other customer looked in disbelief. Who in the right frame of mind would not want a 50-cent discount? Never mind that it is not much but if you add up all the savings, you'd have some substantial amount!
So she said, "Ok loh. If it makes you happy..."
"Of course I am very happy. How much do you think I was asking for when I asked for a little discount?"
Friday, September 15, 2006
Floored by a toenail
Floored by a toenail
Was tortured by an ingrown toenail since May this year. For months on end, I was trying to get the nail to grow outwards.
I changed nail cutting patterns, I trimmed the thick skin on the sides of the toe, I squeezed out enough pus to fill a couple cream eclairs, I tried everything, anything, something. Nothing worked.
Finally, three weeks ago, my doctor agreed to perform a wedge resection for me. Basically, I grinned and beared (I would have preferred to use bore, but it sounded weired) throughout those three weeks.
In fact, since May, I had travelled to China and twice to US with a swollen toe filled with pus and wrecked in pain.
I went for my little surgery yesterday - toenail wedge resection.
I couldn't describe in a better way the American Family Physician online journal could. And the pictures there are really accurate.
There were a few things that I could say though.
1. Four lignocaine injections were required for the standard digital block. I nearly died of pain at this stage. When I went out of the consultation room for the anaesthesia to take effect, I nearly fainted because the adrenalin rush subsided and I had a moment of "energy loss".
2. Despite being unable to feel the toe at all after the anaesthesia had set in, I actually felt PHANTOM pains. Incredible.
3. I was nervous the whole day for the procedure. I braced myself for the pain and the gore. But the pain far exceeded my expectations. If I had thought that the pain was going to an 8 out of 10, the injections must have felt like 20. So painful.
4. The post-operative pain was not as bad as I thought. It was quite bearable.
My doc showed me the nail that he had pulled out. All that was protruding was a little little bit of nail which I could have cut off if the nail was not stuck to the nail bed.
This has been a very painful and arduous process. I hope this will not recur.
Was tortured by an ingrown toenail since May this year. For months on end, I was trying to get the nail to grow outwards.
I changed nail cutting patterns, I trimmed the thick skin on the sides of the toe, I squeezed out enough pus to fill a couple cream eclairs, I tried everything, anything, something. Nothing worked.
Finally, three weeks ago, my doctor agreed to perform a wedge resection for me. Basically, I grinned and beared (I would have preferred to use bore, but it sounded weired) throughout those three weeks.
In fact, since May, I had travelled to China and twice to US with a swollen toe filled with pus and wrecked in pain.
I went for my little surgery yesterday - toenail wedge resection.
I couldn't describe in a better way the American Family Physician online journal could. And the pictures there are really accurate.
There were a few things that I could say though.
1. Four lignocaine injections were required for the standard digital block. I nearly died of pain at this stage. When I went out of the consultation room for the anaesthesia to take effect, I nearly fainted because the adrenalin rush subsided and I had a moment of "energy loss".
2. Despite being unable to feel the toe at all after the anaesthesia had set in, I actually felt PHANTOM pains. Incredible.
3. I was nervous the whole day for the procedure. I braced myself for the pain and the gore. But the pain far exceeded my expectations. If I had thought that the pain was going to an 8 out of 10, the injections must have felt like 20. So painful.
4. The post-operative pain was not as bad as I thought. It was quite bearable.
My doc showed me the nail that he had pulled out. All that was protruding was a little little bit of nail which I could have cut off if the nail was not stuck to the nail bed.
This has been a very painful and arduous process. I hope this will not recur.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
The Waiting Game
The Waiting Game
An hour after SQ 21 took off from Newark, the Airbus 340-500 plane's outer left engine caught fire. A decision was taken to turn back to Newark some half an hour later and the plane landed at 2 am on 20 Aug 06. Passengers who did not wish to go home or had no place to go were put up at the Marriott Newark International Airport Hotel.
I got my room at 3.30 am, and honestly, I didn't even know that the rooms ran out before the passengers could be fully accommodated. The remaining passengers were then driven to the Newark Hilton some 30 minutes away. I would believe that by the time they got their room, it was 4.30 am. Maybe 4.45 am. Poor fellows. Well, if I were in one of those never-moving queues, I'd probably be at the Hilton too.
I must say that Singapore Airlines had been gracious. Passengers had single rooms unless they choose otherwise. This is very kind of them. SQ also paid for our 3 meals while we were (I am) happily stranded at Newark.
This is honestly a HAPPY problem for me. I was dead tired, damned sick and dreading work. Being stranded now with food and accommodation simply meant that I get to rest, recuperate and avoid work without having to take any leave. I guess it's different when you are an employee and when you are self-employed. I hear the bitching by the self-employed on the next flight, how they "lost money". Hey, they got their lives back and they worry about monetary losses. So if I tell you that many people have bad karma, the bad karma must have arisen out of their GREED.
I digress. At 4.15 am, I missed a call. When I called the operator later, I was told that SQ 21 was NOT flying off as planned at 1100 hours that morning. The mechanics were waiting for replacement parts from Heathrow.
Without any black and white notices, I was not too sure. But still, this was GREAT news. I turned off the TV and went to bed. How wonderful. I'm going to sleep in and wake up in time and go down at 0930 hours. In case the call is a prank, I'd still be in time to fly off.
When I woke up to pee at 0700, I saw a note under my door. The message was right. Apparently, the next attempt to fly out will be at 2300 hours.
This is better than a wild wild dream come true. I went back to sleep and woke up at 0830h. I washed up and went for breakfast. I met my group members at the breakfast table and they broke the news to me.
When I told them I knew of it at 0415 hours, they were pretty surprised. Anyway, BREAKFAST was GREAT at Marriott. Never failed to impress me. I had a good breakfast, went back, got into my bed and decided to catch some TV. Again, AFGM was showing. Heck. What luck. And the other channels were showing absolute trash. How can that be? This is a prime Sunday morning! Aren't there kids' shows that I can dumb my brains with?
Anyway, without available entertainment, I called my NJ friend and told him this story. It was a long enough chat and it was great to coop up in a room and rot.
I went right back to a fitful sleep after the call, waking up almost hourly. Between 1130 and 1300, I decided on both occasions to skip lunch. And I slept the whole afternoon through, only disturbed by a freaking dumb chambermaid who wanted to change my sheets but every time she knocked, opened and got blocked by the security chain, she ran away. I know she ran away because the minute I ran to the door to ask who's that, she's nowhere to be seen.
Finally, I managed to catch her and I told her to leave the sheets outside my room. I'll pick them up.
Heck, is it so tough? Granted I'd chosen not to hang the Do Not Disturb sign because I do need fresh towels etc, I believe she should have been more responsive and responsible. I mean, early afternoon hauntings??
At 1600 hours, my phone rang. One of my companions told me that he has booked me on the next flight out the same night. The flight was at 2300 hours and he wanted me to come down to the lobby and confirm my seat.
This is pretty irritating, since I'm happily stranded. So, I had to come down and then after confirming my seats, went for dinner.
All this while, after the 4.30 am advisory no. 2, there was absolutely no news from SQ any more. While their staff hung out at the Marriott Lobby, they were not able to do much because they simply had no access to any computers.
People queued and made all sorts of proposals to get out of Newark to Singapore. If I had been alone, I'd gladly sell my seat away and earn a bit more insurance money and some compensation.
Some people were agitated about the poor communications but the SQ ground staff were really overworked. You can see that.
Anyway, the second attempt to return was uneventful. I met the stewardesses who served me on the SIN-LA leg in Jul. It was so interesting.
And I met the urologist I sat next to on the return journey. We began chatting from the lounge onwards.
-End-
An hour after SQ 21 took off from Newark, the Airbus 340-500 plane's outer left engine caught fire. A decision was taken to turn back to Newark some half an hour later and the plane landed at 2 am on 20 Aug 06. Passengers who did not wish to go home or had no place to go were put up at the Marriott Newark International Airport Hotel.
I got my room at 3.30 am, and honestly, I didn't even know that the rooms ran out before the passengers could be fully accommodated. The remaining passengers were then driven to the Newark Hilton some 30 minutes away. I would believe that by the time they got their room, it was 4.30 am. Maybe 4.45 am. Poor fellows. Well, if I were in one of those never-moving queues, I'd probably be at the Hilton too.
I must say that Singapore Airlines had been gracious. Passengers had single rooms unless they choose otherwise. This is very kind of them. SQ also paid for our 3 meals while we were (I am) happily stranded at Newark.
This is honestly a HAPPY problem for me. I was dead tired, damned sick and dreading work. Being stranded now with food and accommodation simply meant that I get to rest, recuperate and avoid work without having to take any leave. I guess it's different when you are an employee and when you are self-employed. I hear the bitching by the self-employed on the next flight, how they "lost money". Hey, they got their lives back and they worry about monetary losses. So if I tell you that many people have bad karma, the bad karma must have arisen out of their GREED.
I digress. At 4.15 am, I missed a call. When I called the operator later, I was told that SQ 21 was NOT flying off as planned at 1100 hours that morning. The mechanics were waiting for replacement parts from Heathrow.
Without any black and white notices, I was not too sure. But still, this was GREAT news. I turned off the TV and went to bed. How wonderful. I'm going to sleep in and wake up in time and go down at 0930 hours. In case the call is a prank, I'd still be in time to fly off.
When I woke up to pee at 0700, I saw a note under my door. The message was right. Apparently, the next attempt to fly out will be at 2300 hours.
This is better than a wild wild dream come true. I went back to sleep and woke up at 0830h. I washed up and went for breakfast. I met my group members at the breakfast table and they broke the news to me.
When I told them I knew of it at 0415 hours, they were pretty surprised. Anyway, BREAKFAST was GREAT at Marriott. Never failed to impress me. I had a good breakfast, went back, got into my bed and decided to catch some TV. Again, AFGM was showing. Heck. What luck. And the other channels were showing absolute trash. How can that be? This is a prime Sunday morning! Aren't there kids' shows that I can dumb my brains with?
Anyway, without available entertainment, I called my NJ friend and told him this story. It was a long enough chat and it was great to coop up in a room and rot.
I went right back to a fitful sleep after the call, waking up almost hourly. Between 1130 and 1300, I decided on both occasions to skip lunch. And I slept the whole afternoon through, only disturbed by a freaking dumb chambermaid who wanted to change my sheets but every time she knocked, opened and got blocked by the security chain, she ran away. I know she ran away because the minute I ran to the door to ask who's that, she's nowhere to be seen.
Finally, I managed to catch her and I told her to leave the sheets outside my room. I'll pick them up.
Heck, is it so tough? Granted I'd chosen not to hang the Do Not Disturb sign because I do need fresh towels etc, I believe she should have been more responsive and responsible. I mean, early afternoon hauntings??
At 1600 hours, my phone rang. One of my companions told me that he has booked me on the next flight out the same night. The flight was at 2300 hours and he wanted me to come down to the lobby and confirm my seat.
This is pretty irritating, since I'm happily stranded. So, I had to come down and then after confirming my seats, went for dinner.
All this while, after the 4.30 am advisory no. 2, there was absolutely no news from SQ any more. While their staff hung out at the Marriott Lobby, they were not able to do much because they simply had no access to any computers.
People queued and made all sorts of proposals to get out of Newark to Singapore. If I had been alone, I'd gladly sell my seat away and earn a bit more insurance money and some compensation.
Some people were agitated about the poor communications but the SQ ground staff were really overworked. You can see that.
Anyway, the second attempt to return was uneventful. I met the stewardesses who served me on the SIN-LA leg in Jul. It was so interesting.
And I met the urologist I sat next to on the return journey. We began chatting from the lounge onwards.
-End-
Monday, September 11, 2006
Enneagram type is EIGHT
| the Asserter Thanks for taking the test ! | ||
you chose AY - your Enneagram type is EIGHT. "I must be strong"Asserters are direct, self-reliant, self-confident, and protective. How to Get Along with Me
What I Like About Being a Eight
What's Hard About Being a Eight
Eights as Children Often
Eights as Parents
Renee Baron & Elizabeth Wagele The Enneagram Made Easy
you wanna know MORE?
You are not completely happy with the result?! You chose AY Would you rather have chosen: | ||
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My test tracked 2 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
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| Link: The Quick & Painless ENNEAGRAM Test written by felk on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the 32-Type Dating Test |
What I don't have...
What I don't have...
Queues formed quickly at the counter as people courteously waited for a room to be alloted to them. I must say that for being a people who have been accused, among other things, of being loud, brash, rude, insensitive, dumb, arrogant, overbearing, egocentric, and -expletive starting with f deleted- -expletive starting with b deleted-, the Americans are far, far, far, far, far, far more courteous, ruly, and well-behaved than many peoples. And as a result of "peer pressure", other people were forced to comply in behaviour. Ok, not all of them are Americans, but I don't see any of those outbursts that they are famed for. I don't see anyone asking to sue Singapore Airlines at the slightest problem. (Maybe not yet. They were too shell-shocked, if you ask me. But still, a people that can behave at 3 am in the morning is cultured.)
I took the longest queue and staked out. It was the correct decision because I got my key before the last guys in the other queues. For once, my instinct was spot-on.
That is really beside the point. I wanted to see if Miss Hungry Ghost was floating around somewhere in the lobby or is she devouring SQ's offerings. Wonder if they had to burn the food into ashes first. Heh heh heh... (For readers who are unaware, the Chinese believe that when papers with gold or silver or special prints are burnt, they go to hell and the ghosts and wandering spirits can "receive" them and use them for the necessary actions and transactions.)
I didn't have a good view of her so I probably couldn't recognise her if she floated in front of my face.
3.30 am. I got my keys and went to my room. I didn't bother about the toothbrush and toothpaste offered. A couple of days' worth of tartar will not kill you. And since I had taken my bath before I left for the airport, I took off my shirt, put some water down to heat and climbed into my bed.
This Marriott had a musty, smoky smell. Like some old run down cigarette smoke infused inn where the tarry oils have seeped into the upholstery and wallpapers. The smell won't dissipate.
I turned on the television so that I won't go to bed. I wanted jetlag to start before I hit Singapore, so hopefully I can save a day of misery.
A Few Good Men was on telly. Tom Cruise looked so young then and that bad guy, I forgot his name, was so bloody irritating. "You cannot handle the truth, son!" Yeah, right. The truth is, I'm watching this crappy show because my plane engine caught fire.
The show ended soon because when I started, it was already the courtroom scene. And I understood why I would watch JAG but not AFGM. JAG is compact and fast. I like that. It's akin to watching a medical drama vs a full blow by blow surgery. C'mon, don't tell me you really like to waft through the entire surgery? "This is the spleen." *Splat into kidney dish*. And then, maybe some actress can come on and say, "In my country, they fry this with ginger, spring onions, dark soya sauce, and shaoxing wine. It's delicious." (Readers who love this are invited to join me for kuay chap when we meet. Top on the list are pig anuses, tongue, intestines, and snout. Yum yum!
Ok, I digress again. So I went to the toilet and the phone rang. You know, drama is always like this. When you are alone on a trip and when you take a leak, the phone *must* ring. Don't ask me why. Call this the Single Traveller's Theorem No. n.
So I missed the call. And they actually recorded that there was a message for me. A message at 4.15 am? I returned call and was connected to an answering machine that said there was a message for me and I should call the Operator. Duh. Why can't they have an option, "To speak with a human, press 1128934128953718975891274589107905719827395" or something to the effect of the first 20 decimals of pi. So I called the operator and when I was told the message, I blissfully went to sleep.
To be continued...
Queues formed quickly at the counter as people courteously waited for a room to be alloted to them. I must say that for being a people who have been accused, among other things, of being loud, brash, rude, insensitive, dumb, arrogant, overbearing, egocentric, and -expletive starting with f deleted- -expletive starting with b deleted-, the Americans are far, far, far, far, far, far more courteous, ruly, and well-behaved than many peoples. And as a result of "peer pressure", other people were forced to comply in behaviour. Ok, not all of them are Americans, but I don't see any of those outbursts that they are famed for. I don't see anyone asking to sue Singapore Airlines at the slightest problem. (Maybe not yet. They were too shell-shocked, if you ask me. But still, a people that can behave at 3 am in the morning is cultured.)
I took the longest queue and staked out. It was the correct decision because I got my key before the last guys in the other queues. For once, my instinct was spot-on.
That is really beside the point. I wanted to see if Miss Hungry Ghost was floating around somewhere in the lobby or is she devouring SQ's offerings. Wonder if they had to burn the food into ashes first. Heh heh heh... (For readers who are unaware, the Chinese believe that when papers with gold or silver or special prints are burnt, they go to hell and the ghosts and wandering spirits can "receive" them and use them for the necessary actions and transactions.)
I didn't have a good view of her so I probably couldn't recognise her if she floated in front of my face.
3.30 am. I got my keys and went to my room. I didn't bother about the toothbrush and toothpaste offered. A couple of days' worth of tartar will not kill you. And since I had taken my bath before I left for the airport, I took off my shirt, put some water down to heat and climbed into my bed.
This Marriott had a musty, smoky smell. Like some old run down cigarette smoke infused inn where the tarry oils have seeped into the upholstery and wallpapers. The smell won't dissipate.
I turned on the television so that I won't go to bed. I wanted jetlag to start before I hit Singapore, so hopefully I can save a day of misery.
A Few Good Men was on telly. Tom Cruise looked so young then and that bad guy, I forgot his name, was so bloody irritating. "You cannot handle the truth, son!" Yeah, right. The truth is, I'm watching this crappy show because my plane engine caught fire.
The show ended soon because when I started, it was already the courtroom scene. And I understood why I would watch JAG but not AFGM. JAG is compact and fast. I like that. It's akin to watching a medical drama vs a full blow by blow surgery. C'mon, don't tell me you really like to waft through the entire surgery? "This is the spleen." *Splat into kidney dish*. And then, maybe some actress can come on and say, "In my country, they fry this with ginger, spring onions, dark soya sauce, and shaoxing wine. It's delicious." (Readers who love this are invited to join me for kuay chap when we meet. Top on the list are pig anuses, tongue, intestines, and snout. Yum yum!
Ok, I digress again. So I went to the toilet and the phone rang. You know, drama is always like this. When you are alone on a trip and when you take a leak, the phone *must* ring. Don't ask me why. Call this the Single Traveller's Theorem No. n.
So I missed the call. And they actually recorded that there was a message for me. A message at 4.15 am? I returned call and was connected to an answering machine that said there was a message for me and I should call the Operator. Duh. Why can't they have an option, "To speak with a human, press 1128934128953718975891274589107905719827395" or something to the effect of the first 20 decimals of pi. So I called the operator and when I was told the message, I blissfully went to sleep.
To be continued...
Sunday, September 10, 2006
I left my heart in New...
I left my heart in New...
Well, there must be a good reason why I will never "leave my heart in San Franscisco". The SF of now must have been so different from the SF of the past. I'm not going to dwell on that again, except that maybe already in July, I knew I'd leave my heart somewhere else. I think I left it either in New York City or in New Jersey.
Anyway, enough of those cryptic nonsense. Singapore Airlines Flight SQ21 left outer engine caught fire some 100 miles north of Newark Liberty International Airport and after some pretty brainless discussions between pilot and technical crew, decided to make the turn-around. The plane stayed in the air for another 90 minutes or so to dump fuel to bring the plane under maximum landing weight.
On landing at about 2 am (3 hours after takeoff), the runway was full of fire trucks waiting to put out the fire on the left wing. Alas, there was the wing (still) but there was no fire. Sorry, dudes. I know you could be sleeping and having fun. But you know, emergencies come as emergencies come.
Not too bad a fiasco too... Sept 11 pre-anniversary rehearsal. Oh, come on. You guys are probably going to charge Singapore Airlines for waking you guys up. Too bad I couldn't get to meet you guys to say a very loud thank you for making the landing an impessive sight!
And for once, the message to us was, "Ladies and gentlemen, Singapore Airlines wish to apologise for the unforeseen delay." Yeah, right. And where are we now? Tell me where I am! Tell me what is going to happen next.
The plane taxied slowly back to the gate, as though if it had taxied faster, the remnant kerosene on the wings might reignite. After two eternities, we arrived at the gate and the captain came on the public announcement system and said words to the effect of we are now back in Newark. Ground staff have arranged for us to put up at the Marriott Newark International Airport. Passengers who wish to return home may collect a taxi voucher and go home. Ground crew will give us more instructions.
Then Chief Stewardess came on and offered dinner for those who wanted to eat dinner. Served in the aircraft. She even said that the hotel does not have food, so we might want to eat in. Passengers who didn't want to eat could leave for the hotel directly. Passengers are required to remove cabin bags but if they want their checked-in baggage, they had to inform the ground staff. The plane repairs will take about 7.5 to 8 hours, which mean we would be ready to fly off again on 20 Aug at 1100 hours.
I took my bags and scooted off. Heck, I'm not going to eat dinner onboard - I'm going to have to eat one of these meals again soon. And I could do without dinner round 2, since my New Jersey friends have brought me to eat at an excellent grill in NYC.
As I walked out, ground crew passed me an advisory dated 20 Aug timed 2.30 am. The gist of the advisory was that passengers will put up at the Marriott or they can go home. The plane is expected to depart at 11 am the same morning. Passengers could request for calling cards from the ground crew and that meals would be provided.
I stood by the roadside from 2.30 am to 3.15 am, waiting for a bloody shuttle to bring me to the hotel. Finally, some bus came and we all went to Marriott.
Queues formed quickly at the counter... to be continued.
Well, there must be a good reason why I will never "leave my heart in San Franscisco". The SF of now must have been so different from the SF of the past. I'm not going to dwell on that again, except that maybe already in July, I knew I'd leave my heart somewhere else. I think I left it either in New York City or in New Jersey.
Anyway, enough of those cryptic nonsense. Singapore Airlines Flight SQ21 left outer engine caught fire some 100 miles north of Newark Liberty International Airport and after some pretty brainless discussions between pilot and technical crew, decided to make the turn-around. The plane stayed in the air for another 90 minutes or so to dump fuel to bring the plane under maximum landing weight.
On landing at about 2 am (3 hours after takeoff), the runway was full of fire trucks waiting to put out the fire on the left wing. Alas, there was the wing (still) but there was no fire. Sorry, dudes. I know you could be sleeping and having fun. But you know, emergencies come as emergencies come.
Not too bad a fiasco too... Sept 11 pre-anniversary rehearsal. Oh, come on. You guys are probably going to charge Singapore Airlines for waking you guys up. Too bad I couldn't get to meet you guys to say a very loud thank you for making the landing an impessive sight!
And for once, the message to us was, "Ladies and gentlemen, Singapore Airlines wish to apologise for the unforeseen delay." Yeah, right. And where are we now? Tell me where I am! Tell me what is going to happen next.
The plane taxied slowly back to the gate, as though if it had taxied faster, the remnant kerosene on the wings might reignite. After two eternities, we arrived at the gate and the captain came on the public announcement system and said words to the effect of we are now back in Newark. Ground staff have arranged for us to put up at the Marriott Newark International Airport. Passengers who wish to return home may collect a taxi voucher and go home. Ground crew will give us more instructions.
Then Chief Stewardess came on and offered dinner for those who wanted to eat dinner. Served in the aircraft. She even said that the hotel does not have food, so we might want to eat in. Passengers who didn't want to eat could leave for the hotel directly. Passengers are required to remove cabin bags but if they want their checked-in baggage, they had to inform the ground staff. The plane repairs will take about 7.5 to 8 hours, which mean we would be ready to fly off again on 20 Aug at 1100 hours.
I took my bags and scooted off. Heck, I'm not going to eat dinner onboard - I'm going to have to eat one of these meals again soon. And I could do without dinner round 2, since my New Jersey friends have brought me to eat at an excellent grill in NYC.
As I walked out, ground crew passed me an advisory dated 20 Aug timed 2.30 am. The gist of the advisory was that passengers will put up at the Marriott or they can go home. The plane is expected to depart at 11 am the same morning. Passengers could request for calling cards from the ground crew and that meals would be provided.
I stood by the roadside from 2.30 am to 3.15 am, waiting for a bloody shuttle to bring me to the hotel. Finally, some bus came and we all went to Marriott.
Queues formed quickly at the counter... to be continued.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
I don't want to die a hungry ghost...
I Don't Want to Die a Hungry Ghost...
So, remember the woman who pressed the bell for service despite the turbulence?
When we finally landed in Newark, a stewardess attended to her.
"How can I help you, Miss?"
"I'm hungry you know. You have cup noodles?"
Oh, so she's hungry.
DUH. Imagine expecting others to risk their lives just to feed her?!
So, remember the woman who pressed the bell for service despite the turbulence?
When we finally landed in Newark, a stewardess attended to her.
"How can I help you, Miss?"
"I'm hungry you know. You have cup noodles?"
Oh, so she's hungry.
DUH. Imagine expecting others to risk their lives just to feed her?!
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Outer Portside Engine On Fire
Outer Portside Engine On Fire
19 Aug 2300 hours
SQ 21 taxied out and readied for take-off. Somehow, it didn't feel right for me. I sort of knew it wasn't goodbye USA yet. I didn't think this flight was going anywhere. Not that it was particularly ominous - it was just a nagging feeling that New York still misses me. Of course, I kept my mouth shut.
This was a work trip and I am not going to carry the label of having hexed or cursed the plane with me. Anyhow, it was not my intention. And honestly, I knew I'd be fine - I've not done enough evil to go up in flames. Or down.
19 Aug After 2300 hours
We took off smoothly after the soothing plane safety video. Every time I watch the video, I laugh. How the hell would people be so calm when the plane gets depressurized so much that the oxygen supplies had to be provided by the aircraft? I mean, wouldn't there be so much turbulence and shakes and jolts that even grabbing your supply mask is like playing a game of catch? And where are the wailing babies? Even on an ordinary flight, there are times I wish I could SILENCE them! So when the plane drops so quickly, these brats are going to behave like well-brought up sedate models? Puh-leeze.
And then the part about putting on your life vest. Knowing Singaporeans, they will go, "Dunno the self-inflating device will work or not. Better try. If cannot, I better ask for a change..." *Kapoot. Foof!* The vests are inflated. Now see them duck walk to the emergency exits.
And of course, the safety ramp will be punctured after Mrs So-So jumps on because she inisted on putting on her stilettoes. There is no way her spa-ed feet are going to step on the dirty plane floors. Much less can she die without looking pretty. (I see myself stuck with this idea of high heels and dying pretty. I think the earthquake which caused the tsunami in 2004 must be the problem - concussion, I bet!)
I drifted to sleep as the plane took off. It was a light sleep. I know because I could feel the plane lift off. I kept my eyes shut and tried to get into a deeper slumber as the plane cut across the black blanket and gained altitude.
After a good while, the seat belt signs were still on. Sure, the pilot did mention that the New Jersey weather wasn't really that good and we were expecting turbulence, so he'll keep the seat belt sign on as a default. Fine by me, but this is a little too long. Normally, there would be noises to suggest that meals can be served.
So I pulled up my heavy eye lids and looked left.
19 Aug near midnight
The outer engine was on fire.
On fire.
Ok. On fire.
(Where are the exclamation marks? No need. Because the engine was just on fire what.)
So the fire raged and raged. It was a wonderful orange hue. There was no sparks. It was just like a tightly pulled orange cloth firing out from behind the engine all the way to the back of the aircraft.
The plane was still moving ahead. My Krisflyer screen was on Global Positioning System (GPS) Tracking mode.
The engine was burning and the aerofoils are still lowered. We are still gaining altitude.
So when we hit cruising altitude, when the foils are retracted, will the engine explode?
When will the engine explode? (I miss New York. When will this plane turn back?)
Or how about the engine falls off from the wing? (This way, we will definitely turn back?)
Nice, very nice, the fire. How about some pretty fireworks? Or the engine covers fall off?
Or maybe more fire?
Then there was some commotion. People were worried. Some began hyperventilating a little.
See, these are those with much negative karma. Me? I'm just waiting to return to Newark.
I begin to think where SQ will put me up when we turn around. Will it be the Marriott opposite the airport? I've seen it when I touched down. Will I get to stay there finally?
More fire, please! More fire!
"Fire! Fire!" Some passengers shouted, pointing at the engine. The stewardess sat stoic, facing opposite row 34 on the portside. She merely looked out and looked disinterested.
Hey, she must be thinking of her next trip to Century 21 (where I blew over US$200 in a 20-min shopping therapy outburst) the next morning. I may want to go back there and get myself a nice pair of jeans. Or two.
(Amazing how calm I am and how I am planning ahead of time, oblivious to all the crisis ahead, right? These were exactly my thoughts on the plane!)
Or maybe I'll sleep in. I really can do with another good sleep. Let's just see what happens.
Then someone stood up and walked forward. Can someone inform the pilot that the engine was on fire? Does the pilot know?
Only then did a senior crew member call the pilot.
"Turn it off. Turn it off!" Some moron yelled.
Yeah, right. So idiotic, right? Turn off and fly in circles ah? Stupid is as stupid suggests. Never mind. Let it burn, let it burn, let it burn.
What's the worst? The fire is not exactly spreading. It looks so pretty (the next night on my return flight, a New Yorker was telling me that she thought she was looking at a Boston sunset, which was so pretty. She sat beside me on the flight, so I hesitated to tell her one of my reasons for keeping a good distance from blondes or stupid looking red heads. Confirms my belief that there are blondes and there are blondes. Just like red heads. She was one freaking dumb red head. Hello! Boston sunset at midnight over Newark?)
So the call the made and the next thing I saw on the GPS, the plane turned westwards. It was supposed to move northwards till the north pole before turning at the polar altitudes. So it went two rounds in the air before the pilot came on the public announcement system to say that the aircraft is safe and the engineers are working on the engines.
By then the flames were gone. He has shut the engine. Shit! I miss my fire. Ok, next best bet - the engine drops off. Then I wondered where Oldwhig Al stayed. I know I've probably cleared the places where other US friends lived. I forgot where Al lived. I don't want no plane engine in his yard (even though the thousand degree heat might help his BBQ a little, but hey, that's still some debris to clear!). Ok, spare Al. Just turn around and we'll be all eternally grateful.
Three rounds later (the fifth round), the pilot came on and said, we are still working on it. My crew and I are discussing whether we should go ahead or turn back.
20 Aug Just past midnight.
This was quite about it for some people. I heard groans.
I went like, What? If you are not sure whether to go ahead or turn back, f**king turn back. Do you even need to THINK or DISCUSS? I mean, think about it, you'll be flying over open seas strewn with ice bergs along the Polar Route. Then it dawned upon me that it is also ok to carry on. No big deal. Even if the plane crashes, as long as you don't get blown apart or become disintegrated in the end, we'll all freeze (to death). Our watery graves will probably preserve us as well (think Titanic).
But I was quite sure I am dissed hearing those words of no wisdom. I mean, do you have to make people guess? It's another 18 hours into the wilderness and you don't even know if the plane can stay up. (The engine can go down, drop down, whatever, but the plane should not).
But I knew the decision was taken when I saw the pilot break out of the fifth circle and went further northwestwards.
You know, every time the plane reaches a particular part of the circle, there will be turbulence. Not very turbulent, but you could feel it shake a little. So when it flew further away, it didn't feel that bad.
And the announcement came that we are turning back after all. But, of course there's a but. How can there be no buts? Absolutely, positive, definitely will have a but somewhere. What else are you expecting? We are turning back but we can't land because we are overladen with fuel. We need to jettison fuel by flying aimlessly for another hour or so.
The plane then went in bigger circles, flying nearly up to the Canadian border before turning back. It was darn boring while we waited.
Finally, we were just under maximum landing weight. On the return journey back to Newark, the plane hit turbulence and the captain ordered all crew to be seated.
Not long later, a Singaporean woman pressed the bell for service.
No one attended to her, of course. We never know when the next turbulence will hit.
I got slightly worried now. What if they lowered the aerofoils for landing and the friction caused an explosion? It'll be so dumb to go down in flames after so long, won't it? I would feel that way.
Finally, the plane landed in Newark. On the runway behind where the plane landed, all available lanes were lined with fire trucks flashing their lights. It was like a scene from some kind of VIP landing.
The post-landing administration is another blog entry.
19 Aug 2300 hours
SQ 21 taxied out and readied for take-off. Somehow, it didn't feel right for me. I sort of knew it wasn't goodbye USA yet. I didn't think this flight was going anywhere. Not that it was particularly ominous - it was just a nagging feeling that New York still misses me. Of course, I kept my mouth shut.
This was a work trip and I am not going to carry the label of having hexed or cursed the plane with me. Anyhow, it was not my intention. And honestly, I knew I'd be fine - I've not done enough evil to go up in flames. Or down.
19 Aug After 2300 hours
We took off smoothly after the soothing plane safety video. Every time I watch the video, I laugh. How the hell would people be so calm when the plane gets depressurized so much that the oxygen supplies had to be provided by the aircraft? I mean, wouldn't there be so much turbulence and shakes and jolts that even grabbing your supply mask is like playing a game of catch? And where are the wailing babies? Even on an ordinary flight, there are times I wish I could SILENCE them! So when the plane drops so quickly, these brats are going to behave like well-brought up sedate models? Puh-leeze.
And then the part about putting on your life vest. Knowing Singaporeans, they will go, "Dunno the self-inflating device will work or not. Better try. If cannot, I better ask for a change..." *Kapoot. Foof!* The vests are inflated. Now see them duck walk to the emergency exits.
And of course, the safety ramp will be punctured after Mrs So-So jumps on because she inisted on putting on her stilettoes. There is no way her spa-ed feet are going to step on the dirty plane floors. Much less can she die without looking pretty. (I see myself stuck with this idea of high heels and dying pretty. I think the earthquake which caused the tsunami in 2004 must be the problem - concussion, I bet!)
I drifted to sleep as the plane took off. It was a light sleep. I know because I could feel the plane lift off. I kept my eyes shut and tried to get into a deeper slumber as the plane cut across the black blanket and gained altitude.
After a good while, the seat belt signs were still on. Sure, the pilot did mention that the New Jersey weather wasn't really that good and we were expecting turbulence, so he'll keep the seat belt sign on as a default. Fine by me, but this is a little too long. Normally, there would be noises to suggest that meals can be served.
So I pulled up my heavy eye lids and looked left.
19 Aug near midnight
The outer engine was on fire.
On fire.
Ok. On fire.
(Where are the exclamation marks? No need. Because the engine was just on fire what.)
So the fire raged and raged. It was a wonderful orange hue. There was no sparks. It was just like a tightly pulled orange cloth firing out from behind the engine all the way to the back of the aircraft.
The plane was still moving ahead. My Krisflyer screen was on Global Positioning System (GPS) Tracking mode.
The engine was burning and the aerofoils are still lowered. We are still gaining altitude.
So when we hit cruising altitude, when the foils are retracted, will the engine explode?
When will the engine explode? (I miss New York. When will this plane turn back?)
Or how about the engine falls off from the wing? (This way, we will definitely turn back?)
Nice, very nice, the fire. How about some pretty fireworks? Or the engine covers fall off?
Or maybe more fire?
Then there was some commotion. People were worried. Some began hyperventilating a little.
See, these are those with much negative karma. Me? I'm just waiting to return to Newark.
I begin to think where SQ will put me up when we turn around. Will it be the Marriott opposite the airport? I've seen it when I touched down. Will I get to stay there finally?
More fire, please! More fire!
"Fire! Fire!" Some passengers shouted, pointing at the engine. The stewardess sat stoic, facing opposite row 34 on the portside. She merely looked out and looked disinterested.
Hey, she must be thinking of her next trip to Century 21 (where I blew over US$200 in a 20-min shopping therapy outburst) the next morning. I may want to go back there and get myself a nice pair of jeans. Or two.
(Amazing how calm I am and how I am planning ahead of time, oblivious to all the crisis ahead, right? These were exactly my thoughts on the plane!)
Or maybe I'll sleep in. I really can do with another good sleep. Let's just see what happens.
Then someone stood up and walked forward. Can someone inform the pilot that the engine was on fire? Does the pilot know?
Only then did a senior crew member call the pilot.
"Turn it off. Turn it off!" Some moron yelled.
Yeah, right. So idiotic, right? Turn off and fly in circles ah? Stupid is as stupid suggests. Never mind. Let it burn, let it burn, let it burn.
What's the worst? The fire is not exactly spreading. It looks so pretty (the next night on my return flight, a New Yorker was telling me that she thought she was looking at a Boston sunset, which was so pretty. She sat beside me on the flight, so I hesitated to tell her one of my reasons for keeping a good distance from blondes or stupid looking red heads. Confirms my belief that there are blondes and there are blondes. Just like red heads. She was one freaking dumb red head. Hello! Boston sunset at midnight over Newark?)
So the call the made and the next thing I saw on the GPS, the plane turned westwards. It was supposed to move northwards till the north pole before turning at the polar altitudes. So it went two rounds in the air before the pilot came on the public announcement system to say that the aircraft is safe and the engineers are working on the engines.
By then the flames were gone. He has shut the engine. Shit! I miss my fire. Ok, next best bet - the engine drops off. Then I wondered where Oldwhig Al stayed. I know I've probably cleared the places where other US friends lived. I forgot where Al lived. I don't want no plane engine in his yard (even though the thousand degree heat might help his BBQ a little, but hey, that's still some debris to clear!). Ok, spare Al. Just turn around and we'll be all eternally grateful.
Three rounds later (the fifth round), the pilot came on and said, we are still working on it. My crew and I are discussing whether we should go ahead or turn back.
20 Aug Just past midnight.
This was quite about it for some people. I heard groans.
I went like, What? If you are not sure whether to go ahead or turn back, f**king turn back. Do you even need to THINK or DISCUSS? I mean, think about it, you'll be flying over open seas strewn with ice bergs along the Polar Route. Then it dawned upon me that it is also ok to carry on. No big deal. Even if the plane crashes, as long as you don't get blown apart or become disintegrated in the end, we'll all freeze (to death). Our watery graves will probably preserve us as well (think Titanic).
But I was quite sure I am dissed hearing those words of no wisdom. I mean, do you have to make people guess? It's another 18 hours into the wilderness and you don't even know if the plane can stay up. (The engine can go down, drop down, whatever, but the plane should not).
But I knew the decision was taken when I saw the pilot break out of the fifth circle and went further northwestwards.
You know, every time the plane reaches a particular part of the circle, there will be turbulence. Not very turbulent, but you could feel it shake a little. So when it flew further away, it didn't feel that bad.
And the announcement came that we are turning back after all. But, of course there's a but. How can there be no buts? Absolutely, positive, definitely will have a but somewhere. What else are you expecting? We are turning back but we can't land because we are overladen with fuel. We need to jettison fuel by flying aimlessly for another hour or so.
The plane then went in bigger circles, flying nearly up to the Canadian border before turning back. It was darn boring while we waited.
Finally, we were just under maximum landing weight. On the return journey back to Newark, the plane hit turbulence and the captain ordered all crew to be seated.
Not long later, a Singaporean woman pressed the bell for service.
No one attended to her, of course. We never know when the next turbulence will hit.
I got slightly worried now. What if they lowered the aerofoils for landing and the friction caused an explosion? It'll be so dumb to go down in flames after so long, won't it? I would feel that way.
Finally, the plane landed in Newark. On the runway behind where the plane landed, all available lanes were lined with fire trucks flashing their lights. It was like a scene from some kind of VIP landing.
The post-landing administration is another blog entry.
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