At lunch. Western Grill at a local food court.
Man (Customer, potential): Your Airflown Ribeye Steak from Australia or New Zealand, ah?
Hawker Stall Operator (employee): It's... frozen.
Man: Ya, but from Australia or New Zealand?
Hawker: Honestly, I don't know leh.
Man (on phone to wife): Honey, he says he don't know... Okay. (walks away).
Thoughts running through my head.
1) You're ordering steak from food court. The steak is $15. If you want to know where it's from, you best just hope that it's from a cow.
2) I can't tell the difference between Australian or NZ cows/steaks. I can't even be sure if I can tell the difference between Ozzie and NZ accents!
3) What if the hawker could answer his query? Perhaps that would just make things worse?
Hawker: It's from Australia.
Man: Which airline?
Man: Did the cow fly Economy, Business, or First Class?
Hawker: It's a cow right? Cattle class.
Man: So it flew into SG as a cow?
Hawker: Actually, no. It came in as steaks. Frozen.
Man: Grass-fed or Grain-fed?
Hawker: Grain-fed for 90 days.
Man: Organic or GMO grain?
Hawker: Not organic lah! It's only $15 a steak. You want to order or not? There are already 5 people queuing up behind you after all your questions! I have to do business, not answer your questions!
I told my wife, if I were the man, I would have divorced the wife who made him ask such a stupid question from a hawker. If you want Australian or New Zealand Steaks, go to a proper steak house, who could indulge your need for pretentious marketing differentiation, and charge you for the privilege.