$1

I was too early for my handstand class, so I went in search of coffee nearby. At 7.30 AM, I wasn’t truly awake. But I knew I had no cash.

So when I saw this Nasi Padang¹ restaurant with a “DBS PAYLAH! ACCEPTED HERE” sticker on the window display of the pre-cooked dishes, proudly declaring digital payment acceptance, I walked straight in and ordered a Kopi O Kosong².

The staff had my Kopi O Kosong ready before I could ask for the price to key in my DBS PAYLAH! app. I watched the black liquid sitting and gleaming in the transparent Kopitiam³ mug on the silver aluminium table, ever-so-inviting.

When I first popped the question, the staff conveniently swiped left on it, like a creepy Tinder profile picture, and pushed me to buy food, like an annoying pop-up window. I rejected and asked the second time, now pointing to the “DBS PAYLAH! ACCEPTED HERE” sticker as my wingman.

The staff gave me a 404 stare and said: “That one expired,” before serving the next customer, leaving me awkwardly sandwiched in the queue with a Kopitiam mug in hand — A glitch to be ignored and hopefully resolved itself through the act of oblivion.

Adjacent to the order counter, a Makcik⁴ sat on her high chair behind what seemed to be the payment counter. Seemed to be, as there were no obvious signs of it being one. The white marble counter amplified the absence of an abundance of QR codes — so characteristic of a Singaporean restaurant in 2022. And there was an apparent absence of a cash register machine. No clacks and ka-chings.

I placed the Kopitiam mug on the white marble counter and repeated my question. The Makcik styled her pretty eyes with hostility as she locked them on mine, and I could see them widening in bewilderment as I narrated my situation. She snapped.

“YOU WALK AROUND WITH NO CASH? YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE $1?”

She gestured at my getup. I was in yoga wear with a backpack and a tote bag, with an iPhone 13 Pro in one hand. All eyes on us now. I only just noticed how crowded the restaurant was, and how I was the only Chinese.

I wasn’t sure if I was just half-awake, or if it was a feature of age, but I wasn’t burning with shame. The humiliation she tried casting on me for not having a $1 coin was not effective on this thick hide.

“Yes, I don’t have any cash. Sorry, Auntie, I’ll leave this (the Kopitiam mug) here.”

She was about to launch into another attack, I could tell. And at that moment, promptly timed, I saw a hand stretched out from the corner of my eye, waving two crisp $10 notes at the Makcik.

The Pakcik⁵ said something to the Makcik before turning to me and said: “Uncle treat you.” His friend, another Pakcik beside him, nodded in affirmation.

It felt amazing to be helped, even though I wasn’t helpless.

I thanked the Pakcik and reclaimed my Kopitiam mug with a slight air of triumph.

I wondered as I now recalled this little Friday morning episode:

Is this restaurant shielded from time, or did it leave time at its doorstep?

Perhaps casting time as an outsider, like me

UPDATE

Again, I was too early for my handstand class. So I returned to the Nasi Padang restaurant for a Kopi O Kosong.

This time, I’m armed. With cash, of course.

And lo and behold, this came into sight.

But no. I didn’t try it this time.

¹Nasi Padang is a Minangkabau steamed rice served with various choices of pre-cooked dishes originating from West Sumatra, Indonesia.

²Kopi O Kosong is a traditional coffee originating from Singapore and Malaysia. Kopi means coffee in Malay; O means black in Hokkien; Kosong means zero in Malay. Together — Kopi O Kosong — it’s black coffee without sugar.

³Kopitiam is a type of coffee shop in Singapore. Kopi means coffee in Malay; Tiam means shop in Hokkien.

⁴Makcik means Auntie in Malay, an affectionate term for an older woman.

⁵Pakcik means Uncle in Malay, an affectionate term for an older man.