Rice Fields

Schnitzel my nitzel

These days, I tell myself to meet with my comrades a minimum once per week. I can say that this personal agenda to hold on to the last threads of my drifting friendships, especially against my overwhelming work schedule, can fail at times. However, due to my killer ability to persuade, I am now able to meet with Kobis three times per week, as he got convinced (by, ahem, me) that he needed to join my gym to get rid of his “excess and growing baggage”.

One evening, after gym, we decided to go eat dinner at Secret Recipe. After a few minutes of munching on grilled chicken kebab and rice, Kobis posed me a question on the subject of lurve. “Tell me man, who you would not date?”

Say what?

“Minah mana engkau tak nak?”

That’s easy, I said. Never royalties, celebrities or lawyers.

“Why man?”

I have my reasons.

Kobis sipped on his Coke, paused, and said, “Never say never, man. Look at me. I am dating a German.”

---

In his previous life, Kobis would only date and fall in love with strings of beautiful Chinese girls. Although he has dated a few Malays, he would always tell me that he never saw himself dating a Minah Salleh. “I don’t know,” he would always tell me, “They can be gorgeous. But I am just not attracted to them.”

Months forward, over coffee and chocolate cake, he introduced me to a tall, blond German to which he found sparks with in Hong Kong. How did this happen? I whispered to him. “I don’t know,” he replied, “It just did.”

---

“You know what man? Lately, I am looking at only white girls.”

Hahaha, that’s cool, I said. I guess you are becoming the male version of sawah padi girl.

“What?”

You are the male version of a sawah padi girl.

“It’s sarong party girl lah mangkuk!”