“Aunty, Kopi Siew Mai”. She stared back at me half bewildered, half stoic. I knew I had uttered something wrong, thought precisely where I got it wrong, I could not pinpoint. I should have just stuck to my usual Kopi and not let my sister’s impassioned speech about a Kopi something that contained no condensed milk disrupt my habit. But I had and now I was facing the consequences in the form of a postmenopausal woman staring at the Indian boy dressed smart and talking stupid, wondering if this was his idea of a joke. “You mean Koi C? Siew Mai is the yellow meat thing you have for breakfast” , my attractive friend tried to help, unable to resist giggling at the humour of the situation. “hmmm.. Not Kopi C. Its Kopi siew something. But nevermind, KopiC also can” , I replied wanting to save face and half not knowing what Kopi C. As long as it saved me from this, anything went. Even tap water. “Oh. Kopi Siew Tai arh?” “Oh yea. That one. Aunty, Kopi Siew Tai!” But the...