There’s something about being in KL’s financial hub that makes you want to be seen and be in. Suddenly, you’re conscious of how you carry yourself, your clothes, your hair, your very messy hair after rushing over from the LRT station ten minutes away, ducking under shade and coat in a mistimed drizzle. Sitting at Starbucks, just outside the HQ of Malaysia’s biggest bank, is where I feel ‘yuppiest’.
So, what does it mean to be a yuppie? Simple: You say ‘yup’ to your bosses, ‘yup’ to the credit card salesman, ‘yup’ to a gym membership, ‘yup’ to a lifestyle of good food, holidays and parties. Of course this is a stereotype and not applicable to those yuppies with broader, more noble life goals, but I am not one and I don’t really care. I only wish I could say “Yup, the wi-fi is working,” so that the cost of my frappucino is justified, but it isn’t so I can’t.