A full, filling encounter

The fat beast behind the tinted glass was not pleased.

But I was too numbed from the sweltering heat to notice the displeasure. Plus, the interview left me a couple of thoughts to chew on. I concentrated instead on squishing myself as best I could under the sliver of shelter the roof offered, hanging for dear life to the cool of the blessed shade while my skin oozed sweat wherever the sunlight poured over it.

Desperate to retreat to my car quick, I thrust my hand into the slit in the glass pane to hand the visitor’s pass to the guard seated within. Ten tortured seconds ticked away, and the laminated piece of paper was still in my sweaty clutch. It was then I realized how massive the figure within was, and she did not seem to be stirring. So I stared, mentally willing her to take the pass and get on with signing me out.

I could not see her reaction, what with my shadow thickening the gloom cast by the tinted glass, but I fancied her narrowing her piggy eyes at me and working her wobbly jowls. Perhaps an attempt to unnerve me. And when I did not quiver or appear in any way intimidated, she barked at me with the ferocity of a starved animal, “Ah moi, nak bagi I pass itu, tak?” (Girl, are you going to hand me that pass, or not?)

I literally had to shove my entire arm into the guard house, so far into the place pervaded by the stale air of an air-conditioned room and her rancid breath, before the hunk of meat decided it was near enough to pluck it daintily out of my hand. And as she searched for my Identification Card, sweet sounds of her mouth-fart floated toward me, grumbling about how I am inconsiderate to busy people like her and how she does not understand youths these days. So complains the person who disrupts an ecosystem with her gluttony. No wonder there are so many starving children in our country. Woman, your very presence is an inconvenience.

I guess my eyes conveyed the musings of my mind better than I would have thought possible through that tinted window, because her spurts of annoyance turned into a full-blown verbal diarrhea. Well, it did not sound any angrier, merely that the spaces between words vanished. Somewhere along the lines, “Ahmoi,lainkalikalaunakberikad,berilahsaja.Janganhanyaberdiridisitu,tungguorangambilkad.Adakerjalainbuat…”

It literally translates to, “OnnomnomnomnomnomMmmmmMonnomnomnomBURP.”

Oh fat beast, you so funny.

Finally, she found my card and handed it to me with a frown and some words of wisdom. Not being able to communicate in the tribal dialect of food language the Jabba was speaking, I could only smile politely and thank her for her time as I left.

“Ish, lain kali beri cepat sikit!”

On nom nom to you too, nasi lemak (: