Whaddaya know?

It's almost Chinese New Year again. I dun really like the Chinese New Year that much. All the shops are closed and there's nothing to do. Occasionally, there are some decent shows to watch on TV. When I was still in National Service, I guess there's always the pubs and clubs you can go. But nowadays, I just wanna drink at somewhere quiet.

Anyhow, the red packets are still welcome and of course, the festive goodies are always good. But overall, it's pretty shite for me to meet up with people whom I dun see for the whole year, only on CNY. That's nonsense...

I've worked at Chinatown for the past few days. Monday was my rest day. Fuckin' yeah too... After being assaulted by a chain of abysmal Chinese New Year songs sung by kids (or as Mediacorps call them child stars) or old folks or worst of the lot, transvestites in the wrong key, I had enough. The beer garden which I had to oversee was right in front of the ampitheatre. So just imagine this; I was inflicted upon with all the versions of "The God of Fortune Arrives" and the recently resurrected Hokkien evergreen "Xiao Wei". It's basically like how the Japanese tortured their victims in the WW2 to get information. To be honest, I'd have succumbed after hearing "The God of Fortune Arrives" for the 15th time.

So, the getai singer was bellowing his lungs at a techno (yes, believe it) version of "Ai Piah Jia Eh Yiah", loosely translated as "Fight And Win". You must understand this is a perennial favourite. People sing all the time; I try to as well but I dunno all the words. Dammit, if I could remember everything, the depth of the Hokkien dialect used was beyond my level. Everybody I know who has heard it before loves the song. It's like probably the epic Hokkien song with a gusto chorus. Being the pentiultimate of cheese in music, that is probably why we all love it so much...

My friend, Samuel whom I'm alternating the shift with told me that he walked around and entertained himself by checking out the props and a bit of the pasar malem (Malay for carnvial). So I did. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't given a shit about the proceedings. At the most, I'd pop in the pasar malem and buy myself some drumsticks and some sticks of fishball and scoot outta the place. Then, I was bored off my tits overseeing the beer garden. As the auntie on stage belted out her version of "Xiao Wei" which I had heard for the 15th time in 3 days, I knew I had to seek some refuge.

Thus, I stood in front of some sinseh (y'know those quack doctors who promised their bottles of medication/ herbal wines soaked in snake bile/ horse urine/ whatever works better than Viagra/ paracethamol/ whatever) demostrating his wares. It was really entertaining, I swear. For those who understands Mandarin and some dialects should really seek these doodes out for an hour of entertainment.

The sifu (ahem) was a short and stout man with gaudy permed hair and a thick moustache. Which looks a little like this doode without the yellow boots of course.



He was trying to peddle his bottles of medicated oil. My God, I swear his showmanship is even better than some of the rock stars I've seen. He was claiming that 7 or 8 year old injuries which are causing rheumatism can be cured as well. He was cock teasing the crowd as well. Cuz he had someone to 'volunteer' and demostrate his medication and his massaging skills. Imagine one minute he was telling you what he was gonna do to the 'volunteer' (let's call him V) since V couldn't raise his arm over his shoulders.

He put on his CD (yes, there was musical accompaniment; it's that slick nowadays) of a lion dance troupe playing. Yeah, hilarious I know. He crept up to V's back and put his hands on V's right shoulder. V had sat in a stool a few minutes ago. He took a minute and looked at everyone in the crowd with a knowing look in his eyes and nodding. Dramatic tension? Check. Someone get this guy a ticket to Hollywood already!

Then he paused.

What the fuck? He turned off the CD player and started talking into the microphone again. He began regaling a tale of how he helped an old woman in Bedok before to walk after application of his herbal oil and his massaging. He mentioned that he won't take any money since we (i.e. the crowd) and he were fated to have met there. Just help him to put in a good word for him to others. In case we knew someone who is in need of his assistance but is not present at the pasar malem, after the performance, I mean demostration, you can obtain his namecard (fucken modern, aren't they now?) and fix an appointment.

I mean, who the fuck cares?!!? Get on with the show already!!! Booo...

The sinseh gave us all a steely look and rolled up his sleeves. He pounced around V like a finalist in the annual Beijing martial arts competition. He raised his both hands high up in the sky to channel some form of energy and pressed down on V's both shoulders. He proceed to leap nimbly to his right and grabbed V's right arm, wrangling it like how you would when you wanna break up the components of a deep fried chicken wing. Incidentally, I was munching on a fried chicken wing then. Nice. The sinseh used his elbows and knuckles, practically the whole works to massage V's vital points, Everytime he wrangled V's arms, he'd usually use the stance featured below. No, I'm not fuckin' with you.



It was about that time when I received a call to do some work. So I didn't stay around to see if V could be able to lift up his hand above his shoulders or do a series of cartwheels followed by some somersaults.