The right hand.

as a child, i was taught to always accept things with my right hand. especially money. every time an adult gave me money and i stuck out my left hand, Mommy would snap, "ambik dengan tangan apa tu?"

Granny also tells me all the time; "apa-apa tangan kanan. tangan kiri tangan syaitan."

now as a salesgirl, people pass me money every single hour of the day. those who don't follow this courtesy would still accept their change with the left hand, but i still make the effort to free my right hand to accept the money.

there is this particular customer who left an impression on me long ago in regards to this. he works at the barber's three shops away and he passes by the bakery to and fro regularly. once in a while he comes in and buys mineral water; occasionally a red bean bun.

he was talking on the phone when he paid, that one day, and i was giving him his change when he switched hands just so he could retrieve it with his right hand.

you may think it's nothing much but it left a deep impression on me. i told myself that i would make sure i will always accept money with my right hand, especially to this guy.

so two days ago, i was doing my work as always. it wasnt that crowded, it being a weekday. but i dont know what possessed me to be so hasty; i cut myself by accident, by hitting my hand on the corner of a sharp edge. with full force.

at first i felt the pain of  bruise, til i saw there was a cut, and a few drops of blood were sliding down. i stared, fascinated, until i realised that the blood was not stopping its flow.

plop, plop, plop. like the start of a drizzle, the blood dripped onto the floor. i crouched on the floor watching, not knowing what to do. and then someone called me over the counter.

i stood up. it was the barber guy. "oh, sorry, my bad." i laughed nervously. i hid my right hand behind me as it was bleeding profusely, and proceeded to take his money with my good hand, when i remembered how he had always accepted his change with his right hand.

i switched hands, and nervously stuck out my bleeding hand to him. as he was laying his coins into my hand, i withdrew it behind the ledge and more blood dripped onto the lower end of the counter.

he looked at me suspiciously and asked, "is something wrong?"

another nervous chuckle. "nothing, i'm just bleeding."

i walked over to the cash register afterwards, making more and more blood drip all over the floor. he walked behind the counter and took a look, and he paused for a second, taking in the sight.

"you need a plaster." he declared. he disappeared for a while and came back with tissues and Hansaplasts; cleared and covered the wound for me.

he asked me what happened and i tried to remember too but i couldnt seem to.

he went back to work after seeing that my wound was all wrapped up, and came back later to give me a few more plasters in case i needed them.


if it hadnt been for him, i would be at a loss of what to do. never had an accidental cut for so long, and not in public, so i wasn't very prepared for the massive blood loss.

i have many points for telling this story. not only the kindness of a stranger, but also the emphasise on safety at work, and the fact that if you keep a promise, it would help you more than you can imagine in future. 

i've been relying on my left hand for now, because parts of my right hand still feel numb, especially around the cut. i cant even hold a pen properly, so im forced to suspend my writing til it's fine again. o well.

it's a struggle to push up the shutters, you know!