F1 Day Two: Burnt

Fellow bloggers and readers,

You are about to read a whiny, pissed off post by a burnt, irritated, agitated, pissed off blogger, so if your eyes are allergic to unsavoury words, please leave.

The day started at 5:15am like yesterday, and HL arrived earliest at my house at 5.40 followed by Jon at 6. KL’s dad fetched the whole lot of us plus Suet Li to Pyramid where the bus will pick us up.

That’s the Marlboro stand near our kiosk (warning: picture quality – low, from my handphone).

Fast forward – HL, Jon, KL and I were placed at Kiosk 6, in the “mall” area where we had to be checked with some metal detector before we can get through the gate. ~__~ And there were only four of us in that kiosk. Whee!

After enjoying ourselves in the cool morning breeze (plus it was cloudy), Mr Ingnachio (Na-cho, we called him) arrived and shooed us away and asked us to walk around with his wonderful business strategy. It’s stupid really, to walk around when people actually COME to you to buy so we ended up walking around for, I would guess, a total of 20-30km around the bloody area the entire day. It’s roughly 500m from the gates to our kiosk, and about 1-2km from our kiosk to the end of the “mall” area.

To demonstrate how wide the “mall” area is…

I didn’t really take any lunch apart from a miserable tuna sandwich I brought (it was like, soft and melted sorta), a little bit of KL’s roti canai and a tuna-laced biscuit from Suet. And we had to do all this hiding behind a building at some palm tree.

We managed to watch F1 cars racing by as we were allowed to go into the Grandstands to sell our books (which, of course, is not our intention at all originally). After a while we weren’t allowed in anymore, but I’m not that interested to watch F1 at all anyway (especially since you only see one miserable part of the track).

One part of the F1 tracks.

Come 2pm, it was fucking meltingly hot under the fucking sun who decided to intensify its fucking rays on us, and I bet the organisers or some stupid shit hired some stupid bomoh to keep the weather this fucking hot. Alright, HOT IS AN UNDERSTATEMENTTT.

That was when we lost all mood to continue standing and walking around in this intense heat. Suffice to say, the four of us were fried, burnt and well done. And the kiosk was soo unbearable that none of us wanted to stay inside it any longer – it’s like an oven of concentrated heat.

When I returned to our kiosk after walking around, an Englishman was asking KL something and then I asked him what’s the matter. With his thick English accent I could only understand 50% what he was trying to say.

Being the kind guy that I was (and trying to avoid the fucking heat), I volunteered to help him out and asked the Information booth nearby about what he was trying to ask: something about some wheelchair sticker for his disabled wife.

We were directed to go OUTSIDE of the “mall” area, and it was a long walk all the way there, and a long walk all the way back to my kiosk as he declined to sit on the convenient buggy and said, “I prefer the exercise.”

He was really chatty, and:

- he was from Manchester, UK
- made some jokes about Irish lingo which I didn’t really understand
- made more jokes which would have been really funny if his accent wasn’t so thick, and I pretended and laughed along
- said it was his first time in Malaysia
- said he was at Borneo before he came here
- said his wife wanted to watch the F1, so he brought her to the Australian Grand Prix and finally here, at Sepang

We finished our work at 4pm and sold off a total of 111 books and made a total of RM4,440. After waiting for a long time for our bosses to settle the money off, the four of us decided to take the shuttle bus which will bring us to our original Ravi Brothers’ bus, according to our two Indian colleagues.

Jon and the thousands of RM.

Turns out in the end that the bus wasn’t waiting there, so we were the last to board the bus and I was the last to board it, and had to sit on the mini-stairs thingy below Jon at the last row and it wasn’t exactly comfortable. My complains:

- FUCKING HOT WHEN I EXPECT A FULLY AIR-CONDITIONED BUS
- Stupid chairs keep bouncing about making irritating noises and bounced back at me
- Can’t sleep after 10 minutes of nap as the stupid bus was hot, bouncy and hot.
- I tried to lean between Jon’s knees, then KL’s bag, then other various positions till I finally gave up and realised it reached Pyramid already.

Went home by Mini Bus. And on the way home I saw trees chopped off at the Tien Tien Fatt row by MPSJ faggots so there won’t be any shades now. Fuckers. Yes I’m pissed.

Right now, my skin felt like some artificial rubber thingy, my skin feels hot, my moustache feels hot, my neck feels hot and overall I feel like some heated thing.

And turns out we actually get RM130 per day instead of RM125, so whee. Yay. ONE MORE DAY TO ENDURE.