Mixed Messages

It’s so interesting to me how people can have such different personalities. For instance, Amanda will freely admit to anyone that she’s an avowed follower of trends. When the bubble tea craze started, she was the first in line to investigate opening a franchise. When castella cakes wobbled into our lives, she scoured the island for the finest version. And when Céline started selling its US$600 plastic bags, she loyally bought two, so that like a true blue Sheng Siong auntie, she could double up by putting one inside the other. 

            Saffy, on the other hand, waited till the iPhone X came out before she committed to the iPhone7. “I just want to make sure all the kinks have been ironed out first.”

            “Wah lau, eh,” said Sharyn. “What for you buy two model old phone? No discount, some more!”

            Saffy shrugged. “I don’t see the point of getting what everyone else has.” To christen her new phone, she downloaded Candy Crush.

            Sharyn was astonished. “Hah? Candy Crush? This is not 2016, you know!”

            Saffy shrugged again. “I don’t care. I’m on Level 35 now and I’m completely stuck! I can’t get rid of all the fruits in 17 moves! It’s driving me insane! And the stupid thing keeps telling me I’ve used up all my lives and I have to wait half an hour before I start again!”

            “Why you don’t buy more lives?” said Sharyn, Singapore’s undisputed Candy Crush Queen.

            Saffy sucked in her breath. “No way. I’m not giving some random website my account details. Who knows who they’ll sell it to?”

            “Facebook probably,” Amanda said, darkly. 

            Saffy’s bosom inflated. “Exactly! Hey, so, can you help me win, Shazz? I’m sure it’s just a matter of me using some hammer or anvil, but I can’t quite figure it out.”

            Sharyn’s eyes, magnified to the size of a dinner plate behind her Coke bottle-thick spectacles, squinted. “Cannot. I have to go to my Thermomix demo-stration now!”

            Saffy paused. You could practically see her mentally rewind the sentence.

            “Uhm, what?” she said eventually.

            “My Ther-mo-mix demo-stra-tion!” Sharyn said slowly. “I tink I am going to buy one.” She noticed Saffy’s look. “Ay, you don’t know, ah? Thermomix! My sister got one and she say change her life.”

            Nobody was the least bit surprised when Amanda piped up with: “It’s a cooking appliance. It chops, stirs, simmers, cooks, sautes, and blends. It’s the latest kitchen craze, and if I actually knew how to cook, I’d be getting one too!”
            Sharyn nodded. “Yah, what Amanda say! Ay, Saffy, you come with me, lah!”

            Which is how Saffy found herself accompanying Sharyn to Bedok where their friend Ann was demonstrating the life-changing qualities of the Thermomix. Imagine our shock when Saffy came home later that afternoon lugging a brand new TM5. 

            Amanda sighed. “Oh. My. God.” 

            “This thing is amazing!” Saffy panted, blowing a strand of hair from her face, as she dragged the box into the kitchen. “It can even cook congee! And you know how I love congee!”

            Amanda followed Saffy, shooting a glance behind her shoulder at me. “But the last time you made congee, you set the machine on fire and nearly burned down the whole flat!”

            “Well, the TM5 does it all for you. It even weighs the rice and measures the water!” Saffy straightened up and sighed. “At least, I think that’s what Ann says. Oh, it was so life-changing that demo! She made kaya and custard. The most divine rempah. She even made bolognaise sauce. She just threw in the raw ingredients and the machine just did the rest. The best part?” Saffy paused to draw breath. “It even cleans itself!”

            Apparently, Ann’s husband, who also sold the machines, had offered to deliver it and set up a private demonstration, but Saffy was so emotionally overcome by the TM5 that she told him to come another time. “I need to be alone with this,” she told him, her bosom straining dangerously against her tight tee-shirt. Apparently, Mok later told his wife, who told Sharyn, that he was concerned Saffy was going to do something with the TM5 it was not engineered for. 

            “Like what, ah?” Sharyn asked. 

            Meanwhile, the machine has been carefully unpacked and lifted, like the Holy Grail, onto the kitchen counter. And there it sits. A single onion has yet to be fed into its maw. Every so often, Saffy will stop and stare at it in adoration. 

            Amanda thinks it would be so funny if someone told Saffy the TM6 is coming out next week.