Ugly Singaporeans.

A common phrase coined by, ironically, our own people, to describe members of our population who have poor manners.

And somehow, today, they ALL decided to come to Ikea Tampines to eat. As you know, all Ikea stores have a restaurant selling pretty reasonably-priced ang moh food. But, as with most reasonably-priced food outlets in Singapore, the place was packed. The fact that it was raining made things worse. People who would otherwise have dispersed decided to stay within the store to have lunch.

So it was into this mad sea of people that me and my parents plunged into to look for an unoccupied table. The diners were mostly large groups of families, friends and the odd couple or two. As my mum went to the toilet and my dad went to get food, I was tasked with finding us a place.

And so I engaged in the standard operating procedures (SOP) of finding an empty table (Singapore context):

1) Drift around the tables.

2) Target a table whose occupants are finishing up.

3) Check if anyone else is choping a target table.

4) Stand next to the target table and wait for the people to finish eating. Rude staring and looking pek cek optional.

And so I found such a table, occupied by a family with 3 kids. After seeing that their plates were just about empty, I rooted myself at a respectable distance. At this point, the eldest daughter turned around and stared hard at me, as if I had no right to be there. I just continued to wait.

After a while, the same eldest daughter took out a piece of paper, which looked like a school exercise sheet. She then sat down at the table and began doing her work. The middle sister scurried over, planting herself beside jie jie as the older girl showed her some sums. The parents nonchalantly continued to talk idly, conveniently ignoring the fact that other people needed the table to have lunch. They ignored me as I stood there.

Okay, fine. I moved to a table nearby where a mother was tidying up her child. She was alone at the table, and she didn't say anything to me as I stood there. So, I assumed that she was waiting for someone to come back from the toilet. A staff member cleared the plates beside her.

A lady came over, passed her a bottle full of warm water, then left. She didn't say anything to me.

Then, finally, the husband came back with a plate of chicken wings. Not a single person glanced at me or bothered to inform me that they had not eaten yet. They simply walked around me to the table, as if I was an obstacle blocking their way.

At this point, my mum came back and signalled to me that we should search in another area. Many diners had just begun their meals, oddly enough, or still had plenty of food to go. Finally, she waited at a table where a family was seated. I waited at another table next to it, where 5 girls and a guy were almost done. They had 2 or 3 fish fingers on a plate. Nothing else.

The family was still eating, so I expected the group of 6 to finish first. There was hardly any food left, and with so many mouths present, I expected them to be quick.

But even as I waited, they continued to eat at a leisurely pace. One of the girls reached out with a fork, and instead of spearing a whole fish finger, cut it in two and placed one half in her mouth. Then, she continued to chew.

The rest continued to chat as I watched them. I was getting tired, hungry and pissed off. They were eating at a pace similar to lazily grazing sheep on an open field.

One girl proudly announced.

"I go get more chilli sauce."

And so off she went, getting a new plate of chilli sauce for 2 and a half fish fingers.

She came back soon enough, and joined in the conversation. It was mainly one girl talking, while the rest just commented here and there.

After about another 7 mins... another girl said.

"I go get more Sprite."

Then, another 8 minutes passed. One girl egged the other to finish the food, but the other declined. They continued to listen to the main girl talk.

I shook my head at my mum. She smiled.

And so another 10 minutes passed, during which all of them FINALLY finished the food.

After the idiots cleared off, I plonked my ass down, glaring at anyone who dared snatch my hard-won turf away from me. It was just in time too, as my dad returned with the food.

GAAARRRGGGGHHHHHH!!!

I know there are 18 levels in Hell, but there's always room for one more...