“If you’re thinkin’ of being my brother / It doesn’t matter if you’re black or white”

Many years ago when we had come back to Malaysia for one of our semi-annual visits, Nate and I were out for lunch one day. It was a hot day and Nate was feeling like a refreshing cold drink of soy bean milk mixed with grass jelly (cincau). I don’t recall where exactly we had gone for lunch (though I believe it was Bibi Chik in Petaling Jaya), but what I do recall with great clarity was what the wait person said when we ordered the drink: