A Hungry Man, Dhall Curry & Temporary Insanity

Friday, September 7, 2012

Hungry Man by Shohei Hanazaki
Hungry people can be frighteningly crazy.

They will reveal their loony side shamelessly at restaurants, fast food outlets, coffee shops, anywhere where food and drinks are served and in a small town where I live, they make for so much better entertainment than the local tv dramas.

The usually calm and polite Malaysian is reduced to a blundering total nutcase when something gets in the way of them getting their food, drinks and sometimes take-away dhall curry.

One incident that took place in an eatery where we regularly visited involved a violent outburst bordering on insanity when an old uncle insisted on having his dhall curry packed for take-away but was refused by the restaurant's supervisor.

Apparently, the place had a bizarre rule that folks must consume their dhall curry on site. The rule was introduced after dhall curry was noticed to be a favorite that people in this tiny town would buy them in big bulks for take-away leaving the rest who came to eat deprived of such delicious gravy.

Who would eat rava thosai without the delicious dhall curry, how unthinkable!

So when the lady supervisor told the hungry uncle with a humongous beer belly that the dhall curry wasn't going anywhere beyond the restaurant's threshold, the oldie got seriously sinister.

He started shouting at the supervisor demanding her to call for her boss and proceeded to get increasingly agitated that he appeared as though he was going to strike her.

While the poor stressed lady tried to get the boss on the phone, the loon initiated a lecture to the rest of us who by then had reduced our food-munching speed as we soaked in the sudden drama.

He gave an offline rant stating loudly that the lady was being too smart, a nuisance or something like that. He continued on rambling incoherently while we pretended to listen. If it was online, we could have just easily hit the block button. Now we were all looking awkwardly at each other, the floor and the ceiling.

Ultimately, the gist of his message was that he must be given the dhall curry, or else.

During this pointless and loony lecture, he stood inches behind me as I pretended to read the newspapers.

Mom was staring at the old nut as he went on and on and we whispered to her to quit giving him the eyeballs. Nutty man was nutty.

I nearly choked on my vegetarian fried rice. My heart was beating fast probably due to mild excitement and the urge to give this nut a slap.

And then we heard the sound of someone being slapped a couple of times.

At precisely this point, the male members of the eatery (nearly ten of them) got up to stop the old fool by pushing and shoving in a slow manner. No superman speed here. Just slow and steady like a zombie bar brawl. It was disappointing.

Because the guy was old, suddenly there was an element of Asian politeness as the younger males went to close in on him.

It was hilarious up to a point and it stopped when dhall curry was spilled on my sister's pale blue skinny jeans and our chairs were pushed to the point where we were sandwiched between table and chair.

Frozen in our spots with our mother looking very worried but still glued to her seat, we waited for something to happen to break the inertia.

Shouts and other male noises were let out and the old fool was finally pushed out of the building. No one else was physically hurt. But the supervisor was now shouting at the old nut.

Although she sustained a bruised lip, she was all good and pretty fired up. She even looked ready to fight the old loon, but buffered by men, she left him alone.

Outside, the weak small-scale brawl was diminished into a migraine-inducing shouting match between the boss (who had just appeared) and the dhall-starved buffoon. I lost my appetite.

As we exited the joint, the old fool could be seen standing across the street with a pitiful look as he eyeballed the boss who was giving creepy stares back at him.

They were all waiting for the police. I wonder how the report was going to be written.

Man wanted dhall curry at premise XYZ. When man was refused, man started to slap the supervisor with a book a couple of times.

Mom was too spooked that she decided to drive the other way to avoid passing through the road where the shouting match had now descended into an intense staring game between the restaurant owner and dhall-curry-deprived man.

As we drove away, it'd be nice if the police were to give the guy a taste of dhall curry with roti canai before they let him marinate in the jail resort.

So, tell me, have you ever truly lost it when your glucose level hits rock bottom? Don't be shy, share your story below!

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shanaz@RS | 2:12 AM | Labels:

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