Wednesday, 5 October 2011
"Mr. Rock, Mr. Rock, are you in the building?"
After successfully navigating my way to Chintatown, I popped into a drug store to grab an item. The till was crowded and cluttered. The young Malay girl was struggling with my credit and chip; something I have noticed baffles them here, which baffles me, as they are much more security conscience than in Canada. As she fiddled and tried to bring the card reader out for me to log my PIN, a Chinese man in his mid-to-late 50s came beside me to buy a product. I looked down to see he was buying Mr. Rock.
The first clerk said to the second clerk, "We keep that behind the counter, we keep Mr. Rock off the shelf, you have to bring Mr. Rock out from the drawers." Each time she said "Mr. Rock" the man's face grew more flushed. Her voice became louder with each Mr. Rock she mentioned. I believe she was flustered from the credit card, but the poor man beside me was mortified that she announced to all the people in the que that he was buying Mr. Rock. It may be just me, but I think in Canada we call Mr. Rock, Mr. Viagra.
(Follow Layna in Asia on Mexico on My Mind site for her perspective of travels in Mexico)