The Green Comer *koff*.

Hi all!


You know you are in big trouble when at least 3 of your blog entries are related to your handphone. So far hor, the adventures I’ve had with my Motorola L6 have been in the following sequence:

1) Choosing between a damn chio chio Nokia or a really san-por L6. It was the fight between being superficial (nokia for 300++) and being miserly (L6 for 8). I guess the decision was easy. I rather be an ugly miser with loads of monies than a super-chio spendthrift spending my own money….of cos if there’s other ppl’s money to spend, then I might not have written so much about my handphone caper in here….*long suffering sigh*


2) Letting my san-por L6 do a 6-storey bungee jump without bungee. Enuff said, the heart can only take so much.


3) Having to realize that the fricking minute I took an itsy step into the fricking office, my handphone now become ‘emergency calls only’. Because of chui-kueh (now sadly defunct, not him, the blog), I am not allowed to swear here, although I actually think he already knows all the 10,000 swearwords in various dialects and foreign language and even the extra 300 from ancient texts hidden buried under the fallen nose of the sphinx, so I shall say mother-choujidan-ing jidan-er, or fricking fricker or extra-chou-jidan-ing jidan-er or even chou-fricking-fricker-jidan-ing-jidan-er.

I believe I am in a position here to make all handphone owners cradle their phones and kiss the CustomerServiceOfficers regardless of all the bad blood you’ve spurted over anything remotely connected to your communication device and that is this:


At the very least, if I
- kena get my cellulite pinched by the photocopier which I’m illegally sitting on with to find out my plunking surface area. (I find that doing it without pants will give a smaller surface. Really.)


- kena get my hand stuck in the printer while trying to steal change the print cartridge.


- Kena face burnt and cut by the PC screen when the moniter blew up due to opening too many windows of hot scalding pron EXCEL spreadsheet.


I can still call 999, 911, 995 on my handphone and let the Home Team crowbar my butt off the feeder (with gloves for their protection.); unravel my ribboned hand (multi-coloured) from the rollers; remove the shrapnel from my pimply face (or leaving it as an improvement. Rubber gloves. Thickness 3 mm.)


HOWEVER, and this is where u rejoice that such a thing should happen to me so that it will not happen to you, thanks to statistical probability, is that while all corners lets me call Home Team for pranks during break time, 1 eerie spot in the room not only has no ‘emergency calls only’, it has ‘no service’ half the time and ‘no sim card detected’ the other half.


Now imagine that spot (jidan jidan jidan!) to be my cubicle.


Yea……u can all French kiss your friendly phones and the walls of your office in deep appreciation that they are holding hands of reception.


So now I am currently still holding on to a skinny, post-mortem, post-trauma handphone, sitting alone in the Bermuda Triangle right under the nose of the green umbrella.

And so the entry today is about the coming of the green man (hur hur). To my delight, an urban myth has been answered during his coming (hur hur hur). I mean, I never really seriously asked if all employees of the orange/red/green companies have to have a orange/red/green subscription for their HPs respectively, but its actually true. All green ones subscribes to green, red to red and so on.

So imagine again that I called the green company who sent a green man to come (hur-okok stop) and get some surveying done to find out if there’s really some missing patches of green. He was 15 min late in coming (snigger) and when he found me, told me he had being using that 15 min trying to find out where I was.

With his green phone.

I didn’t even have to explain anything and he already found the cold lonely spot I’d been sitting for months. In any case, I wasn’t mentally capable stringing any words together after realizing I am looking at the cutest guy on the block at that point in time (a very easy feat actually).

‘Ma’am, I’m now going to find 5 more spots of non-activity, so that we are able to contact the higher powers to start acting. You know where I’m coming from?’

I shifted my eyes downwards before realizing it’s only English and hastily skittled them up and

‘Yes yes, *koff* I know. Would you like me to come with you?’

Oh Gods. Behind my placid eyes, the angel in me was on his knees begging that I’m hopefully the only gutter-brain in the office, if not the world, while the rest of me was trying to make me break out in chuckles. While the innuendo flew pass his head (heng ah!) into the horizon, the eventual constipated look must have warned him some.

‘I’ll be fine doing it alone.’

‘*koff* OK then. Enjoy yourself. *koff koff*’


With a wierd look, he left me stuck in a coughing fit.

Suffice to say, it was all too easy to find 5 spots of non-activity in the whole area, my own spot being the worse. The green man himself look slightly sheepish and kept saying he himself also very paiseh over this very valid obvious hole on the canvas of the umbrella corporation. He had finished his surveying in 10mins flat and didn’t need any of his 007 tools from his impressive suitcase.


Nah, he just walked around the whole room and looked at his phone.

3 days later, I got a call from them saying that the ‘building has rejected their enhancement proposal’.


That, if you aren’t aware, is the euphemism ‘we offered to correct the problem but your company refused to pay.’


So…..I am back to square 1.


Jidan jidan jidan….


Thank goodness I’m leaving this horrible place soon.


PS. For the record, the green customer service is really good actually. At least they entertained me all the way and are unfailingly polite while I ranted and raved and cried and simpered. The problem isn’t exactly with them. Guess it takes 2 hands to clap.