Lucky Plaza's Rudest Fried Rice Stall Owner Tells Us Why He's So irritable

"To be honest, it's because some people are just too stupid. Some customers are really privileged. If they want service, they should go to Jollibee," 
said Shafiie, the owner of Fiie's Cafe, notorious for his "bad attitude" and subpar fried chicken rice.

We arrived at the sound: Lucky Plaza's rudest fried chicken rice vendor, shouting from his open kitchen. Diners ate in silence, their heads bowed. Shafiee, dressed in a crisp black uniform, stood tall and straight, with a voice so resonant it could make you cry "enchik." At Fiie's Cafe, a popular restaurant on the sixth floor, Shafiee is a natural force.

The restaurant is known for its delicious fried chicken rice—always drawing long lines during lunchtime—and its cantankerous second-generation owner. The cafe recently changed its name after Shafiie took over last year.

 

Previously known as As-Shifaa Cafe, it was named after Shafiie's sister, who requested the name change. "My mother opened this place over 20 years ago, and I've been helping her since I was 17," Shafiie said.

Now in his 30s, he and his brother run the cafe full-time so that their mother, who is in her 70s, can retire and run a stall at the old Ordnance Engineering Training Institute (OETI) in Al Rajah Camp.

"If they want service, go to Jollibee."

 

Coincidentally, right next door to Fiie's Cafe is another Lucky Plaza fried chicken shop: Jollibee. "I tell [customers] if they want service, go to Jollibee. And some actually do. But sometimes even the Jollibee staff won't smile at you," Shafiie shared.

 

If you're lucky, his brother Rasheed, a soft-spoken man with a shy smile, will take your order. We dropped in as anonymous new customers and ordered a combo ($9).

Chicken Rice Set, $9

The set includes chicken rice, with thin, crispy skin and a mouthwatering turmeric batter. We opted for the chicken breast, which was slightly drier than the drumstick but still delicious with the rice. (The breast is a lighter, less oily version of the rich Hainanese chicken rice, and pairs perfectly with the spicy fried chicken and sambal sauce served with sweet and spicy sauce.)

 

After ordering, Rasheed, wearing gloves, plucked a handful of delicious fried batter crumbs from the chicken rice tray and sprinkled them over the rice, adding an extra crunch.

Mr. Grumpy Fried Chicken The set meal also included our choice of two side dishes: fried yam, tender chicken liver, gizzards, and sambal quail eggs. A complimentary bowl of vegetarian noodles (mee soto) and a drink rounded out the meal. The chicken rice is priced at S$6 a la carte, and despite the cafe's rent increase, the brothers haven't raised their prices. Shafiie glanced at us briefly, intently frying the chicken. We quickly paid electronically using the PayLah app, a service he recently launched as part of a renovation of his mother's old shop. Surprisingly, the recipient's name was "Mr. Grumpy Fried Chicken."

"So you're quite self-aware," we later asked Shafee. He shrugged. "Everyone says I have a bad temper, so let's just stop," he said. That's why the mild-mannered Rashid faced the customers while Shafee cooked.

 

For this story, we contacted Shafee anonymously after our meal; he declined to be interviewed or photographed. But considering it was almost time to get off work, he couldn't resist chatting. "You can write whatever you want, because you chose to come here. I don't want anyone to say I asked them to write about me," he asserted.

One-star reviews

But a lot has been written about him. TikTok users deliberately provoke him, hoping to anger him enough to respond with a tirade that can then be filmed as a viral video. His cafe is infamous on Google for dozens of angry one-star reviews complaining about his "aggressive evil eye" and 1,001 ways to annoy him. You definitely don't want to cross him.

As Google reviewer MrPullinggravity put it: "If you instinctively follow the customer in front of you and accidentally cross the ground line in front of the cashier without anyone noticing, you will be yelled at. If you place your order before the cashier is ready, you will be yelled at. If you don't place your order quickly enough, you will be yelled at. If you make even slightly complex requests multiple times while placing your order, be prepared to be challenged to a fight."

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Shafiie has also been provoked into fights. Some customers, angered by his rudeness, have resorted to verbal abuse, even resorting to the Singaporean tactic of "resolving conflicts outside." "Some wanted to fight me. I said, 'Come on, I'm off at 5 p.m.' But they never showed up," Shafiie recalls.

He was tall, muscular, and naturally sullen, with cheekbones so chiseled they could slice a young punk into sashimi. All of this combined to create a strong first impression, or, as Ah Ming put it, "offensive."

 

He approached us while we were eating chicken rice and glared at us. His sharp, wary gaze swept across his shop, a habit he'd developed during his eight years as a bouncer at clubs near Clarke Quay while also working part-time for his mother.

“With my kind of face, I can only work as a bouncer. Some people said I can be a police inspector or RSM too,” he deadpans. He also bears a strong resemblance to a celebrity — Malaysian actor Adi Putra, which earned him the nickname of ‘Adi’.

Back then as a bouncer, Shafiie was a gym-goer who weighed 95kg, though he has since shed 25kg slogging at his cafe.

The brothers start work at 6am

It is tough work preparing nasi ayam goreng. The brothers are at their shop by 6am or 7am, where they spend their day serving customers and frying fresh batches of fried chicken whenever they run out. When we drop by at 3.20pm on a weekday, there is only chicken liver, a hardboiled egg and some sambal quail eggs left to go with the chicken rice.

A slip of paper on the stall read, "Laksa Available Today," but Shafiie tore it off with the impatience he usually displays with Karen people.

 

However, when he didn't have an order, he was friendly. We saw him chatting and laughing with regulars, a relaxed smile on his face.

He politely thanked a young man who passed by the cafe and helped him move the bulky drinks machine. "We used to sell tea, but now it's just me and my brother here, so we don't have time to make tea," Shafie explained. "But some elderly people prefer hot drinks, so I tell them they can buy one from (another cafe) and bring it over. I don't mind."

The First Rule of the Fiie Club

Understanding the rules of the Fiie Club proved crucial to enjoying the dining experience. "If you talk to me during off-peak hours, fine. But don't talk to me during lunch, because I'm too busy," Shafiie said. Different people cope with work pressure in different ways, and Shafiie made no secret of his inner irritation.

While most F&B owners plaster a smile on their faces to wrangle difficult customers, he goes full club bouncer. “To be honest, it’s because some people are idiots. There are some very entitled customers out there. If you visit someone’s house you abide by their rules, right? It’s the same for my shop,” he says.

Order first, then sit down

He is particularly rankled by folks who insist on chope-ing a seat first before ordering. “To be fair to everyone, I told them to queue and order first before getting a seat. First come first served. But some of them weren’t happy about it,” he says. 

This ‘rule’ came about after Shafiie had diners fighting over tables in his cramped 24-seat cafe. He recalls: “They threw plates at each other. If they have a problem, take it up with me. Not with each other.”

The seat system

But even during lunchtime, you don't have to worry about finding a seat. Shafiie manages the crowd with his unique principles and pragmatic approach, ensuring that all customers are seated in an orderly manner. All you have to do is wait quietly outside the cafe until it's time to go in and order your food.

That's why Shafiie hates people who linger after their meals, hogging seats, and those who disrupt his business by not following COVID-19 regulations.

 

"My meal costs only $6. During lunchtime, it's packed, and some people even expect me to serve them food and give them change with a smile. With only two of us, it's hard to find staff," he revealed.

He also insists that he doesn’t shout at people. “I’m just loud. I have to be loud so everyone outside can hear me from the back of the kitchen,” he says. “If I really shout, you can hear it from the first floor okay.”

“You can’t please everyone” 

After years of operating at Lucky Plaza, Shafiie has built a loyal following. "My regulars like me; they know me," he shares. "And I've realized one thing. Some people react strongly because they feel their behavior is disrespectful. So they become defensive."

This may have cost him some customer satisfaction, but Shafee is a courageous man who prioritizes efficiency over diplomacy. He believes, "If I can't handle two out of ten complaints, I might as well close down. You can't please everyone."

 

However, what irritates him is that netizens call him "uncle." He retorts, puzzled, "I'm not old, so why are they calling me uncle?"