Bahyee-ology Case Study II

*disclaimer*: The following is a true account of the author's experiences at his workplace. The author has no intention of insulting the people who have been involved in the following paragraphs, and the author is in no way a racist, elitist or communist. Whatever the latter two mean. The following is meant to provide readers with an insight into the mind of the author, and the following should be taken with an open mind, and a pinch of salt. Also all references to God are all with due respect, reverence and love. Please remember the author is NOT a racist.

Hmm.

Now to continue from my previous Case Study of Bahyee-ology:

Let me set the scene once more... It's 9:50am in the morning, and breakfast is almost over. Normally by now we would be clearing up the buffet spread, but as usual, a certain bunch of people would be asking us weird questions:

Bahyee 1: 'Excuse me, why is there no "harsh potaytoes" left?'

CDD: 'Uhh sir, we stop bringing out the food after 9:45am, and we officially end breakfast at 10am.'

B1: 'But this is not acceptable! This is the YMCA! This is a Christian organisation! God is my witness, and the food should be provided always. Even if I come at 10am, there should be food all ready for me to eat. This is not acceptable. Please tell your chef to cook more food. I want to eat my breakfast.'

Now beg pardon me, but hey... YOU WANNA TALK LIKE THAT ABOUT GOD? GOD SEES EVERYTHING BUT HE DON'T GIVE YOU THE FOOD, BHANG (no doubt he has given us the grace and priviledge to be the food provider). WE PROVIDE YOU WITH THE FOOD. SO EXCUSE ME, I HAVE BETTER THINGS TO DO THAN BE YOUR FUCKING TESTOSTERONE OUTLET. THE FOOD STOPS COMING OUT AT 9:45, SO TOUGH LUCK, ASSHOLE.

Then as I was clearing up the buffet spread, me and my colleague were stacking up the remaining food back onto the trolley. One of the items was hard-boiled eggs. I was about to go back into the kitchen to get a wiping towel when our little bahyee boy appears in front of me once more with a plate in his hand, almost pushing it in my face.

Boy: 'Excuse me, can I have more hard-boiled eggs, please?'

CDD: 'Yeah, go help yourself *nods in direction of eggs on the trolley*'

I didn't give a damn about that boy. I mean, hey... I earn $5.50 an hour. You want me to serve you for breakfast? I don't get paid enough to serve everybody for breakfast ok? What that means if I have to serve you, wouldn't everyone expect the same thing? That leads me to the next point.

It seems that Bahyees love to have hot milk. I don't think it's a bad thing to like hot milk. In fact I like hot milk myself. But what happens when one guy asks for hot milk.. every-fucking-body wants to have hot milk. It's like a virus.. it spreads throughout the Bahyee population in the cafe.. and soon we're hard-pressed to serve hot milk.

Bahyee 2: 'Excuse me, can I have some "hort miylk" please?'

CDD: 'Sure, give me one minute, sir... *rolls eyes*'

Bahyee 3: 'Excuse me, one "hort miylk" for me as well'

CDD: 'Ok. *wipes sweat*'

Bahyee 2: 'Can I have one more "hort milyk" please?'

CDD: *fumes*

I'm thinking of petitioning to the Manager to make these people pay for the hot milk. Maybe we should charge $5 for one glass of hot milk, so that these buggers will actually pay for our services. I mean, so what if you have the fucking breakfast coupon? This stuff costs money you know?

The breakfast charge has been absorbed in your room fee, so don't come around thinking you can order us about like slaves. We have 30+++ other customers to take care of, and you're not the centre of the fucking universe.


Cheers,

Crawldaddy