Term1 Week2 The Irritating Stall Owner

He is famous for being unreasonable and fractious with the patrons, but these victims continue to form the never-ending long queue in front of his stall. I have never bought anything there and thus have not experienced his ferocity although there have been rumours going around. He looked kind hearted and helpful to me but this changed on that particular bright and sunny Monday morning.

My parents left for work that day like usual but the only difference was that our maid, Maria, had gone back to her hometown to visit her parents and thus, I was left all alone at home. That meant that I had to settle my own meals. My mum gave me a 50 dollars note to buy anything that I felt like eating.

When it was 12noon, I walked over to the hawker centre where the infamous stallholder was. I walked past his shop, seeing about a dozen people queuing in front of his stall. Even though he looked perfectly normal and harmless me, I kept thinking about the horrible rumours. I walked around the entire hawker centre only to see that all the stalls that sold my favorite food were closed. What a coincidence! I did not know why but my legs brought me to the back of the queue of that rumored stall owner. The wind picked up the dried leaves from the ground and scattered them all over the place. The cold wind rushed against me and a cold shiver ran down my spine. I had a bad feeling about this. I intended to walk away but it was too late. It was my turn and the stall owner asked for my order, with a wide smile. I ordered a two dollars fried rice in a stuttering manner and paid him right away. I moved to the side while he went on to take orders from the other patrons.

While I was just about to take away my packet of aromatic fried rice, the stall owner said in a calm voice, “hello boy, you forgot to pay me 2 dollars for the fried rice.” I turned around to see him, still in his kind and helpful mood. “Oh I paid you right after I ordered the fried rice, don’t you remember?” I replied in a least offensive tone. “You must be joking boy, quick, pass me the money, I still have a long queue to go,” this time, his tone changing into a firmer tone and his wide smile could easily be seen through as a forced one.” But I really did pay up,” I replied in a quivering voice as I started to think about the rumours of what he would do to people who, in his opinion, do not pay up.

Hearing my reply, his face changed so quickly to a dull and irritated one that I did not know what to do. He demanded that I pay up or he will call the police. I was so scared that I shivered on the spot. He walked towards me in a gangster-like way and since he was taller and bigger in size than me, I trembled with fear with every step that he took towards me. I backed into a pillar and there was nowhere to go. The passers-by saw it but none had the intention of helping me.

From his timorous dagger eyes, one would see that he was determined to give you a bruise in the face any minute. His hand was raised. I covered my face, not sure what to do. I took a peek between the spaces of my fingers to see that that the hand was swinging down, accelerating by the second. My heart was beating wildly and I would faint any minute. Suddenly someone shouted and loud footsteps could be heard, supposedly running in my direction. “Could this be his reinforcement?” I thought in fear. I was too scared to hear what was shouted. I took a peek at the stall owner again, to see that his fist was just a hair’s breath away from me. What surprised me was that apart from the big hand of the stall owner, I saw another hand, inhibiting him from dealing me a blow. I took down my hands and saw my uncle standing right in front of me in his police uniform. Behind him were a few other policemen. I was very surprised that I would be saved from the deadly blow of the stall owner. The police questioned him and his speech was timorous as he was handcuffed back to the police station for trying to cause hurt. The stall owner had tried to push the blame off him, saying that what he did was fortuitous. When the terror was over, I ran up to my uncle and gave him a warm hug and thanked him profusely. He told me that he was here to have lunch with his colleagues when he saw what was happening.

Since the stall owner is integral to the opening of the shop, the stall assistant closed the stall and the long queue in front of the stall dismissed. That was an unlucky day for the stall owner but a lucky one for me. Who would have thought that someone would have come to my rescue? I returned home to have my lunch still thinking of the incident that had happened just now. When my parents returned, they promised me that they would not let me go out by myself again, in case something similar happened again. My parents agreed that it was my lucky day too.
From that day on, my family boycotted his stall. What had happened spread far and wide but that queue in front of his stall still refuses to shorten. Every time I walk past his stall, I wonder who the next victim will be!