I'm not rude, thank you very much.

I'm a courtesy lion, hear me roar.

Or watch me claw at your eyes and puncture the vision out of them. Or feel my molars sink into your fat cheek and tear out a bloody chunk of it.

Sorry for the graphic description, but that's what happens when we try to tame a lion and suppress its macabre nature.

I mean, think about it.

Of all animals, we have to use the King of the Forest as courtesy ambassador.

How's the poor fella going to face his relatives in the zoo?

First, we rob him of his pride. Then we make him take up various compromising positions: His jaws unnaturally curved upwards to form a smile. His paws propped outwards for a ready embrace. Worst of all, he's sometimes made to bend forward like a cooked prawn, his mane hidden in a helmet as he apologises for noisy, inconveniencing construction work.

Poor fella. And we wonder why he's a principal cast member in The Wizard Of Oz.

I'm not saying our Singapore's courtesy campaign is useless. I, for one, benefited from it -- I was the proud recipient of the Singha Courtesy Award in Mei Chin Primary School, when I was in Primary 2.

What I'm saying is, the people behind this Courtesy Lion campaign only got it half right.

Yes, it's a great idea to iconise the lion in a nationwide campaign. It's also a brilliant concept to teach kids about humility. "Ah Boy, you see? If Uncle Lion -- the mighty, mighty Lion -- can rip his balls apart and swallow his pride to be courteous, so can you, okay?"

But what has years of the courtesy campaign done to us? Can we truly say we're a nation of skipping Mary Poppins?

Do we feel so innately happy that we skip our way to the bus interchange every morning? Or break out into a cheery song and dance as we try to squeeze our way amid throngs of crowd during an MRT breakdown? Do we find ourselves twirling around blithely merry kids or spring up flowers to surprise their equally happy moms?

No, no, no and NO.

While we're not innately rude as a people, we aren't naturally happy.

In fact, to be naturally happy, we need to be natural: Let's not pretend that the only way to deal with one another is to be pretty and nice.

And here's where the Courtesy Lion campaigners must get the other half right: We must be polite whenever we can, but when politeness doesn't get us what we want, we revert to our lion nature.

I can say this with authority because 90 per cent of the time, I'm pleasant and polite.

Here's an example of how patient I am, whenever I receive cold calls from people who seem to determine I am so poor that I need a loan within the next five minutes of my life.

Caller: Hello, good afterrrrrnoon, may I speak to misterrrrr Lyong-Why-Keet?

Me: Yes, speaking.

Caller: Good afterrrrrnoon, Mr Lyong. This is (insert foreign-sounding name here), and I am calling from (insert company name here). The reason I am calling is (insert five long reasons here).

Me: So sorry to stop you there... I don't think I need a loan/spa package/gym tryout/insurance/curry puff/crayons (insert whatever freebies/baits here).

Caller: Oh, but mister LYONG (insert you-don't-know-what-you're-missing tone here), this is (insert super grand reason here).

Me: Yes, I understand, but I don't want to take up your time because I'm not interested. But thanks for calling!

Caller: Misterrrr Lyong, would you like to (insert reasons found on page five of manual)?

Me: No, thank you. Thanks for calling. Have a good day!

And mind you, I'm not making this up. I know it is tough to make cold calls, and these poor people have a quota to meet. Most of the time, the conversation ends well -- I don't offend anyone, and they know I'm not interested in their products.

You see, my mom has brought me up to be pleasant and polite to people around me. But the great thing about my mom is, she's flexible.

As I grew older, she tweaked my upbringing. You must be nice to people. Even if they aren't nice to you, you must still make an effort to be nice. And if they're still nasty, then you should be twice as nasty.

Sad, but true.

Case in point.

Years ago, I made a trip to Genting Highlands, and had requested for a non-smoking room.

When I checked in that day, I was told to leave my bags in a smoking room first, as the non-smoking one wasn't ready.

By the time I got back, the receptionist told me nonchalantly that there was no non-smoking room for me.

So I put on my best courtesy lion smile (paws propped outwards for a ready embrace, if need be), and asked very, very politely for it, saying that I was earlier promised a room.

"No more," the receptionist looked me in the eye and said with conviction.

"Do you think you can try please? I'm really allergic to the smell of cigarettes."

My friendly receptionist then proceeded to fiddle with her computer, then again looked at me nonchalantly and said "no more."

Okay, Wai Kit. Time for plan B: Cue feral lion.

Instead of kicking up a hissy fit, I took an intentional deep breath, and leaned forward slowly.

In a deliberately, menacing low tone, I said "I do not want to shout at you. So I want you to go get your manager, so that I can direct my unhappiness to. I want to speak to your manager. Now..."

And I made sure I enunciated every single word.

Our receptionist scrambled out of her seat (probably to check if she had peed in her panty) and returned cheerily. "Oh, sir, we found a room for you!"

It's a very unfortunate example, but Mummy is right. First, we try to be polite. But if we don't get fair reciprocation, we go on the offensive.

I'm not advocating that we should all claw at one another if we don't get what we want.

But here's what needs to be communicated in the campaign.

Be polite -- or else.

Since, throughout the years, we haven't exactly made progress where courtesy is concerned, it's high time we're reminded that there are consequences for not being pleasant and polite.

Roar.