Several friends of mine, mostly from the newspaper…
Several friends of mine, mostly from the newspaper, were meeting up last night at the Tavern, so I decided to ride down there after work last night. On the way, as I was waiting for the light to change next to a silver mercedes-benz that was double-parked in front of a ritzy hotel, a woman who was presumably its owner came up to me and tried to pull me away from her car.
“Don’t!” she said crossly, while motioning with her hands that I shouldn’t be so close to her precious vehicle in that maddening sign-language Taiwanese people break out to communicate with anyone who doesn’t look Chinese. I moved ahead about a foot, but she wasn’t satisfied and glared at me. Then she inspected the rear view mirror for damage and actually came close to hysteria, even though I obviously hadn’t done anything to the mirror. All this time I was trying to think of a suitably withering remark, but her antics were just so hilarious I couldn’t do anything but burst out laughing and give her the Taiwanese “Pai-se” salute before driving off.
Dean and Edward were already at the Tavern, and we were soon joined by Carl, Jerome and Carl’s friend Lori. Lori is thinking of putting on a stage version of Star Trek, and mentioned that I was just deadpan enough to play Spock (Personally, I’d rather play a crazed Sulu from The Naked Time). I was arguing with Lori about the Nostradamus prediction, which I believe to be a hoax, when a loud, piercing whistle sounded from outside. This was immediately followed by the entry of several strangely dressed individuals. They were mostly young foreigners, dressed in the Taiwanese idea of motorcycle gang attire, but anyone from anywhere near the US would more likely associate their attire with a Disneyworld cowboy store than hell’s angels. I hope they were getting paid very handsomely for what they were doing, because I can’t think of anything more embarrassing.
These people all apparently had PhD’s in Making Everyone In the Room Wince with Sheer Annoyance. They were purportedly promoting Corona beer, and they had a game which involved a styrofoam cup. One of the drunk Germans at the next table had the indescretion to play the game, but when he “won” (surprise!), more annoying whistle-blowing occurred, after which nobody else was willing to play the game. One of the group came by and tried to get us to play the game, but we all shook our heads vigorously in fear.
The Annoying Corona People bounced around some more as the owner of the Tavern rushed about in their wake assuring his patrons that “they’ll leave in 5 minutes. I promise! Please don’t leave!” The man was near tears as one of the group blew her whistle again, prompting several people to grab blunt objects and move towards her in a menacing fashion. Carl was livid, but then again Carl is often livid. Fortunately we calmed him down by mentioning the name of the paper one of our former colleagues works at now, The Bulletin, in Bend, Oregon. This invariably causes Carl to burst out in fits of giggling. Try it sometime.
Fortunately the Corona people eventually picked up on the fact that their lives were in real danger and retreated. I cannot imagine what imbecile thought that these tactics would sell beer. Probably the same guy who thought sticking a “Baby on Board” sign on a car would actually cause people originally intending to hit those cars to think twice and hit someone else instead.
Later on in the evening our old photographer from the paper, Dave Smith came by. He’s living in Bangkok now and was in town to get some photos. Dave’s a cool guy, and like a lot of my friends, he is Canadian. But the mediocre food, the two ginger ales (honest!) and the ass-numbing seats were taking their toll. I had to get home and sleep. Once I did, I dreamt about carrying my turtles in buckets down unending flights of dark, wet stairs. I guess I can’t get my mind those damn attacks just yet.
Speaking of which, it seems that this so-called “journalist” is just echoing the same sentiment that likely had a hand in leading to the attacks in the first place. I understand she’s upset at the senseless loss of her friend, but her editor should probably work harder to get more analysis and less blatant emotion. I don’t know about everyone else, but when I look for news, I want to see facts and analysis, not people ranting on soapboxes. That’s what weblogs are for.
A phone conversation Whiny Woman had this morning: “What?….What?….What?….” for approximately 15 minutes.
