vendredi, juillet 03, 2009 Heartlander is where the Heart is (Part II)  In my last post about how I'm a heartlander, I posited that I am a heartlander because it's about how comfortable you are in your own skin within that HDB-dweller sphere. I refuted claims that I had to be excluded from the heartlander category because of my zip code, or because of my proximity towards certain "gourmet" supermarkets, or because I am able to stand apart from the scene, and appraise/analyse, as objectively as I can, the entire situation.In this next post (I have a feeling this might become a series of posts!) I want to deal with the flip side of the coin - people who CLAIM to be heartlanders, but are really high-society debutantes masquerading as heartlanders. I picked up the SkinnyDrummer two nights ago, as I wanted to make a run to AMK Central to explore wiring possibilities (long explanation, has to do with my birthday party.) She got into the car, and asked me why I wanted to go to AMK when she was the one who was the "true heartlander". This of course sparked off a massive argument (I AM A HEARTLANDER!) which continued through the drive, the parking, the coupon-tearing, and the walking into AMK Central. The first sign that supports my theory that she's no heartlander was when we got to the big square outside ValueDollar/This Fashion - there was a pasar malam (PM) in action! (Sorry about the unfortunate acronym.) Not that the PM was trouble - rather, it was our reactions to them. I was pretty pleased to see the PM because it was a break from the monotony of the regular stores in AMK Central, and because, well, PMs are always carnival-esque, which is cheap welcome relief and entertainment, especially in this dreary economic climate. SkinnyDrummer, on the other hand, was all blase about it. "Please don't stop, please don't stop, please don't stop," was all she could say when we walked past the garishly flashing lights of the game stalls. Aren't heartlanders supposed to fall for this sort of gimmick? I'm not saying that PMs sell snake-oil (some, quite literally, do), but the carnival is a global phenomenon, meant for the peasants, or in the modern context, the heartlanders. The spoilsport pseudo-heartlander was very reluctant to look around the place, grumbling when I picked up a S$1.80 clear folder for my song worship leading that "You just HAVE to buy something right?" Not really, was my reply. I have been waiting for a PM so that I can get cheaper clear folders, which are often hideously expensive at Popular. I delay my gratification for a super duper cheap deal; how is that not a heartlander-ish trait? If I were really atas, I would drive to Takashimaya the instant I wanted a clear music folder, and buy a branded one. So that was strike 2 against the so-called self-proclaimed heartlander. .jpg) But she got one back at me though - when I was paying, she stood beside me, but a lady approached her and tapped her on the shoulder to ask her "Got sell scotchtape or not?" SX was all like "DUUDE, I DON'T WORK HERE." Then she turns around and claims that she's a heartlander because she was mistaken for a PM stall helper.I think I'll give this one for her; the incident afforded many, many minutes of gut-busting laughter. We next move over to the clothes, where I tried bargaining in Bahasa (fail fail fail) for an embroidered top, then got fed up and went to buy food instead. The pseudo-heartlander then starts to moan about the heat and no aircon. Lest you tell me that heartlanders should be complaining since it's a national pastime, it really wasn't a very hot day - it had just rained, and this was past 8pm at night, when it's cooler. So why was this so-called "heartlander" bitching about the heat and running to any place which had the bare minimum of air-conditioning - like, say, the entrance of a store - and stand there flapping her arms and her t-shirt to let the cool air in? Then we walk to the food. And this girl does NOT like 茶叶蛋. And she's never eaten muah chee. And a lot of other stuff at the PM. Now, if I'm not a foodie, and she's a heartlander, how is it possible that I have eaten and love 茶叶蛋 and muah chee while she doesn't like and has never tried all these quinessential "heartland foods"? So my friends, if you won't let it go that I am an "atas-face", then at the very least, please disabuse SkinnyDrummer of the delusion that she is a heartlander. Let her know, NOW. Libellés : humour, singapore, thinking [Heartlander is where the Heart is (Part II)] |
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