Hot Dog

Was just going to say, stoking up a mite isn’t it? Bit of a blast in the middle of the afternoon. Short while before the young lads had put on a pretty lame and jaded lion dance a few doors along at what had been assumed to be the TCM shop. (You wouldn’t have thought the lottery place needed any help from the spirit world.) When the crew emerged and was returning to the truck the paltry dragon that was more worm presented a rather pitiful sight, a thin little string of fabric held up on sticks by the boys and nothing whatever like it really. In JB for budget rate lion dance evidently that was what your ringgit bought and nothing more. Ya, heat rising, lads bushed and needing a rest. Just as the truck wheeled off the chaps at the next table at Shaza Corner left and the old waiter coming over to clear the table first flicked a switch on the wall. Now, what was that then? What was the man playing at there? The overhead. Really?... It took a time for the blades above to come to a proper dead stop in order to confirm conclusively. No question. No two ways about it. At the two tables beyond the overhead fans were going full throttle, turned to 3 top of the dial. Soundlessly without any whir battering away. Here over the last table there was nothing on offer. No wonder it had been free. A true greenie the old timer — the colour of the polos at Shaza was no kind of travesty. There was once another fan at the mid-point between these last two tables on this side onto the square, removed since at some stage and only the stem remaining now. (Hopefully properly and safely decommissioned.) Did the owner here run such a tight ship warning the troops about unnecessary expense? Of course back home in Tamil Nadu if the fellow had electric in his house there would certainly be no lights left on and fans God forbid. Conjunctivitis in the eyes? Thin, spare frame, light on his feet still. Indoors it was in fact the same, the three occupied tables receiving the benefit, although the cashier did appear to be looking after himself with his fan whirling nicely overhead. (Rationalising with the goods on the counter before him perhaps.) In the granddad’s father’s time the sahib had kept attendants fanning either side of his sedan chair hot afternoons.

                                                      Johor Bahru, Malaysia, first week of the New Year of the Dog