Whenever I go and eat chap fan, the lady boss never speaks to me beyond telling me the price to pay. Not that she is snobbish or anything.
It's just that she noticed that I don't speak Cantonese (in the early days, she said chat khau poon (seven fifty) and I went, huh?).
My command of Cantonese is just enough for me to understand how much my food cost. And oh, I don't use the word kar fan (extra rice) anymore.
She is quite chatty with some of her other customers and when there is a lull in service, she has a bit of fun joking with the coffee shop foreign workers.
And then one day, she finally spoke to me.
When she saw what was on my plate, she could hold her tongue no longer.
"Aiyerrr!!! Lei mou sek fan sek hamtan!!!". My Cantonese has improved by leaps and bounds to understand what confounded the good lady. For my friends who don't understand Cantonese, translation : "Aiyeerrr!!! You don't eat rice and you eat salted egg!!!"