Samuel Yeoh

Recently, I’ve moved out of the travel industry to the non-travelling industry – bumming. Yes, I quit my day job. To kill time though, I decided to take up a part-time waitering job at one of the local coffee outlets.

Waitering has always been one of those curious holiday jobs I’ve wanted to try, and they are a great place to see lots of fun things for a person like me. Just a day on the floor can yield a lot of interesting story ideas and fantasies, more than enough to fill a few posts, but I digress.

Today though, I got tipped for the first time. Unexpectedly too!

It was a slow morning, but two elderly Japanese ladies came in shortly after opening. They spoke a smattering of English, but it was bad enough that I couldn’t help replying them in Japanese. To be honest, my Japanese was just as bad when it came to explaining a menu, but somehow we survived.

The elder of the two was a handful to deal with though! She was quiet at first, but after realising that I spoke Japanese, she became a lot more demanding! Complaining about how dirty our sofa seats were (can’t be helped, due to use over time), asked for larger servings of salmon in the salad, complained about the cleaner killing the atmosphere when they were eating (I had to chase him away), asking for fresh cake (unfortunately we only serve expired cakes, shhhh) etc…

All I could do was keep apologising ‘Sumimasen’ against her rapid-fire of Japanese that I was straining to understand. I think I spent half the time staring at her with a flustered and tongue tied look on my face.

With all that drama going on, it took me a really long time before I finally figured out the dynamics that was at work. Fortunately, they sat around long enough for me to figure out, haha. From morning till tea time, when a young Japanese lady with two children arrived! That’s when I realised the old lady was probably the grandmother (visiting from Japan, so I heard from the manager later), while the other elderly lady was an aunt. Given grandma’s seniority, it was no surprise that she needed to throw her weight about just a little, to show who’s in charge. My guess is that she probably took over as the head of the family, and the rest of her behaviour makes perfect Japanese sense in that context.

Now, the surprise of the day happened when the young mother arrived. While she was trying to quiet her bawling child, grandma and aunty were showing the other child the cakes at the counter. In the midst of that mini confusion, grandma walked up to me with a stern look on her face, while I tried to back off thinking I was blocking her way. Instead, she stuffed something down my apron pocket without a word.

Being totally blur, my first thought was that she wanted to pay the bill quietly. I tried to check the notes discreetly to count if they were sufficient. At about the same time, they decided to order cake, and asked me to clear the table. With all that noise and activity, it took me five full minutes before I realised what had transpired, and I rushed off to the washroom to check my pocket.

Three $2 dollar bills. Not much, but not little either. I was at a loss. I was touched by the gesture, since I hardly considered the language barrier and poor response to her complains as anything near to good service, and it was money I couldn’t take. I didn’t do good enough. Neither could I put it into the shared tipping pool, as it would defeat her intentions of slipping the tip quietly to me.

But try as I might, I couldn’t figure a way to return it to her discreetly. Just too many things going on. A melted cake, a crying child, spilled chocolate and dropped fork, and an agitated manager conspired against me getting anywhere near to slipping it back to grandma. That Japanese family sure know how to attract drama!

So instead, I’m going to keep those bills somewhere as a good luck charm, and perhaps return it to grandma should I see her again. After all, it’s the thought that counts, and the gesture was more than enough to make my day.