I Apologise (2 Years Too Late)

When I was under the employment of a US MNC (one of the biggest one in the world), I got to know a host of interesting people, my seniors from Thailand, Philippines and Malaysia who were ever willing to teach me the tools of the trade.

One of the people sharing the same office was a Field Service Engineer who was from another department. Let me call him C.

C was a quiet guy, and kind of shy. Yet he would be happy to chat whenever I walked past his cubicle.

He also dressed in a funny manner, wearing shirts instead of polo t-shirts that other engineers were wont to wear. His shirt would have charming floral patterns at the edge, sort of like those you'd see local big shots wear to community functions.

The draughtsman remarked one day, "This C always dresses like a Datuk's son."

I nudged him, "Don't say that C dresses like an uncle leh, that's very unkind of you."

Draughtsman blinked at ne and laughed, "C is really a Datuk's son."

"No!"

"He is. His car has this crest, that's why he always covers it with the tarp."

Oops! So it was actually me saying C dressed like an uncle.

For those unfamiliar with this term, the "Datuk" or "Dato" is an honorary title given by the Malaysian state or federal leaders to outstanding citizens. Hong Kong drama serials are particularly fond of depicting Malaysian Datuks as arrogantly rich men being chaufered around in Rolls-Royce.

I'd like to apologise to C (even though it's unlikely he'll ever read this, or even if he does, he wouldn't know he IS C), for knowingly or unknowingly making fun of him. And not responding to his invitations for dinner.

For not having the patience to get to know him better.

Sorry.