One Sandal

I was up late last night on the terrace at my hotel in Melaka having a couple of beers with this fellow from New Zealand. Rather than buy several beers (which would get warm very fast), every 20 oz. of Tiger beer we would wander across the street to the 24 hour market/food hawker/social meeting place to pick up a couple of cold ones (and on a few occasions, some Malaysian chicken wings). Anyway, on our last sojourn to the marketplace, John (the Kiwi) started up a chat with a few of the locals (who were hanging out at 3 in the morning, why?). John took Indonesian in university, which is basically the same tongue as Malay, but they were sort of going back and forth into English and Malay. Then they ask me.

"Where are you from?"

"Saya Amerika," I reply in my best Malay.

"What part?"

"I live in Washington, D.C."

"You work for the government?"

"Yes, actually, I do."

"So you like Bush?"

"Of coure not!"

[Uproriously laughter by Malaysian gentlemen.]

"That's good," said one of the fellows. "I used to like Bush, but not anymore!"