SINGAPORE—Local millennial Jason Ng, 29, decided to embrace his cultural roots this weekend by venturing into a Singaporean wet market for the first time. Sources confirmed that within minutes of arrival, he was disoriented, overwhelmed, and questioning every life decision that led him there.

“I thought I’d be fine,” said Ng, who usually shops for groceries online with the added convenience of not having to talk to anyone. “But the moment I stepped in, I was hit by the smell of raw seafood, the sound of aunties shouting about fish prices, and the sight of a man chopping a chicken’s head off like the featherless bird owed him money.”

Ng’s foray into the wet market began optimistically. Equipped with a reusable tote bag and a misplaced sense of confidence, he attempted to navigate the labyrinth of narrow aisles and aggressively determined shoppers. His first challenge came when he tried to buy vegetables from a seasoned stall owner.

“I asked how much the bok choy was, and the uncle just scoffed and threw a bundle into my bag before yelling a number at me,” Ng recalled, still shaken. “I didn’t know if I was supposed to weigh it, bargain, or just accept that this was now my destiny.”

The situation deteriorated further at the poultry stall, where Ng attempted to buy chicken breast and instead found himself watching a carcass getting weighed for butchering. “The butcher asked me how I wanted my chicken. I panicked and said ‘yes’.”

Ng’s breaking point came when he reached the seafood section, where the floor had been strategically designed to resemble the aftermath of a monsoon. As he attempted to sidestep a particularly aggressive puddle, he locked eyes with a fish that was still gasping for air. “I think it judged me,” he whispered.

Fleeing the market in defeat, Ng concluded that wet market shopping was best left to professionals. “I have so much respect for aunties who do this daily,” he admitted. “Next time, I’ll just pay triple the price at the supermarket.”