Colleague G wasn't feeling well today. She had been puking since a couple of days back and the medication from the doc didn't seem to work. So she went around the staffroom in search of serng buay, in hope that the chinese remedy for nausea would do the job that its western counterpart failed to fulfil. She chances upon Colleague S, sitting prettily at her desk, her porcelain features encased in an immaculate assortment of what might well be Lancome, Elizabeth Arden, Bobby Brown and the likes. Yours truly, just so happened to walk by that particular aisle where her cubicle was located, the exact same moment...

Colleague G: (leaning over S's desk weakly) Eh, you got serng buay or not? Feel like puking.

Colleague S: (without looking up from her comp) Nope. (pause)
(has a sudden afterthought, and looks up brightly) I got handcream! You want?? (beams)

Me: (stops in her tracks and takes a few steps back where she came from) You got WHAT??

Colleague S: (with the same beatific smile) Handcream! (enquiringly) You want??

Colleague G: (speechless)

Me: (rotfl)

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Either her handcream smells so good it magically cures nausea or it tastes sour enough to pass off for serng buay...I shall refrain from saying anything about the source of the strange words. (rotfl samore...)