I work at Raffles Place. Once a week, when the workload is manageable, I take a pleasant 700-meter walk along the river for lunch at one of my newfound chicken rice spots.
It’s quite easy to miss this eating place, which offers both indoor and outdoor seating. One time, I was on my way to Funan Center when a signboard for an Indian restaurant caught my eye. I followed it down a flight of stairs and, in the basement, stumbled upon Mok Swee Kee Chicken Rice.
Like some traditional Chinese eateries, Mok Swee Kee has a large TV playing videos about how the chickens are prepared, along with interviews that are hard to follow—mainly because none of the tables face the screen. The owner, or perhaps the chef, appears to be in a wheelchair, without a leg.
There are many things to like about this place. It’s not as crowded as the eateries around Raffles Place. The food is decent, and the prices are comparatively reasonable. I always order the chicken breast set with veggies and soup, plus a braised egg and a braised tofu—all for $8.50. I also like that all the workers speak my mother tongue—Cantonese.
A couple of days ago, I visited Mok Swee Kee again. The weather was sunny, the breeze was good. I was slightly later than usual, and a crowd was forming. When my turn at the cashier came, the owner-chef in the wheelchair took my order. The cashier shouted my order across to the chicken rice uncle, who dutifully began preparing it fresh. We chatted briefly in Cantonese—trivial things, like how I prefer to order my hot coffee after my meal so that it stays hot.
After paying, I joined the queue at the stall. The man in front of me, holding a cold coffee, collected his meal—which happened to be exactly what I’d ordered. Ah, another high-protein eater, I thought to myself.
When my turn came, the Indonesian helper (my best guess at her origin) handed me the soup and rice, while the chicken rice uncle prepared the chicken breast—and only that.
While waiting for my add-ons—the egg and tofu—I began pouring dark soy sauce, ginger, and chilli over the sliced chicken. The helper looked at me, puzzled. I looked at her, puzzled. Then I asked where my egg and tofu were. All three of us, including the chicken rice uncle, turned to look at the cashier.
As it turned out, the man before me had taken my meal.
But how could that be? We queued properly! The chicken rice uncle must have mixed up the orders. And honestly, that man shouldn’t have taken what he didn’t order. Where in Singapore would a chicken rice stall give you extra egg and tofu—for free?
I was stunned. I expected the chicken rice uncle to just prepare me a new egg and tofu set and move on. It was only $1.50, after all.
But no! He stormed out of the stall, went straight to the man before me, grabbed the meal back, returned to the stall, and transferred the egg and tofu from his tray onto mine—by hand!
I was shocked.
I protested, “But he’s already started eating it!â€
The chicken rice uncle replied, “No, he hasn’t. I took it away from him.â€
I insisted, “But the tofu has been moved!â€
He ignored me. Feeling hungry and unwilling to waste food, I reluctantly took my meal, sat down, and started eating.
The drama didn’t end there. The man before me went to the cashier to complain, saying it was his first time there and that he thought the set meal included egg and tofu. He was angry that his meal had been taken away. The cashier tried to apologise, but the chicken rice uncle grew furious, threw down his apron, and left the stall.
“I quit!†he shouted—and he meant it.
In all my decades in Singapore, I had never seen anything quite like that. The lunch queue kept growing. Now there were plenty of customers but no one to serve food.
The woman in the wheelchair moved herself to the stall and started preparing meals. Someone else took over the cashier role. Within minutes, things were back to normal.
After finishing my meal, I ordered a cup of hot coffee. It was freshly brewed. I sat down, read my ebook, and enjoyed my coffee before heading next door to PopMart to check out the latest Labubu Pin For Love collection.