Not Going to Greece
I am not going to Greece. I was sitting on Laurel's couch while she expounded on the wonders of Crete when finally I said
"Laurel. Let's just go to Crete, then."
"Ok."
"But when we get there, we split up."
"Good idea."
Laurel is notorious for being difficult to travel with. I can't stand traveling with her, so knowing this about ourselves we decided to ride the plane together, go see her friends in Crete, and then split up and leave each other to their own devices. Then she taught me some words and phrases in Greek, such as "I do not speak your monkey language," and the subsequently handy "I'm sorry."
So I thought I was going to Crete. I spent a couple of days fantasizing about men who have chest hair and cringing, because I have not seen a man with chest hair in almost two years. It sounds like a deformity. But she regaled me with tales of men who follow you down the street loudly complimenting your charms and beckoning. Which sounded like a delicious respite from the Chinese man leering silently with cigarette. At least Greek men say what's on their mind.
Yesterday at 4pm I walked out of class with nothing on my mind but how one of my students was enthralled at my cleavage during class (cleavage that was covered Victorian-style almost to my neck, nevertheless he managed to get in a good long imaginative stare). At 4:30, I met with my Foreign Liason officer to request my next five months salary in advance and after some haggling, I got it. I wanted to be able to buy my ticket to Crete immediately, no waiting. Then I checked out prices online and on the phone.
Apparently it costs more money than I make in four months to go to Greece. So to hell with them and their stupid olives. At 4:45, I started thinking about other places.
When I was growing up, and up untill two years ago, I never ever thought I would be sitting in my office saying these sentences to myself:
"I could travel south China more. No, jesus, I need to get out of China for a while. How about....Korea! Yeah, I love Korea. No, I wanna save Korea for later. Scotland? Sigh. Wherever shall I GO?"
Then I found them. The tickets. The cheap ones. To a place close enough not to be a hassle and which lets Americans just waltz right in like they owned the place, no visa.
TELEPHONE TRANSCRIPT:
"Hey, Wes. Wanna go to Japan? Tickets are only $501 American!"
"Dude. Dude, that's 4000 rmb. I make more than that in one month."
"Yep. Wanna go? January."
"YES."
At 8pm, I printed out two e-ticket confirmations for Wes and I, destination: Tokyo. Heart of the Yakuzas. Hub of Dance Dance Revolution, upscale Host Bars staffed by men paid extravagant sums of money to entertain the women guests, ninjas, giant robots, sushi and sake.
Wes called back.
"I've been thinking. Just dropping ourselves in Japan without speaking the langauge and knowing nothing about the land is not HARD enough."
"YOU are A GENIUS. We should do a scavenger hunt!"
"Yes. Since I can't come untill two weeks after you do, you use those two weeks as a head start and when I get there, we can play 'Find Barrie!'"
"Excellent. I will buy a digital camera and email you video and photo clues as to my whereabouts that you can pick up in the internet cafes."
"And you should put obstacles in my way! Obstacles like, mountains, islands...."
"Quanrantine zones, large bodies of water, impassable roads?"
"Exactly. So when you get to Tokyo you should get out of Tokyo as soon as possible and hide yourself in the most remote place you can find."
"You and I think the same way, Wes."
I leave on the 14th. Wes leaves on the 27th. We both return from Tokyo on the 13th from the same airport, so even if he doesn't find me, he'll find me in the end. What could possibly go wrong?
Barrie, The Coolest Person You Know (and who at 4pm yesterday was not going to Tokyo.)
"Laurel. Let's just go to Crete, then."
"Ok."
"But when we get there, we split up."
"Good idea."
Laurel is notorious for being difficult to travel with. I can't stand traveling with her, so knowing this about ourselves we decided to ride the plane together, go see her friends in Crete, and then split up and leave each other to their own devices. Then she taught me some words and phrases in Greek, such as "I do not speak your monkey language," and the subsequently handy "I'm sorry."
So I thought I was going to Crete. I spent a couple of days fantasizing about men who have chest hair and cringing, because I have not seen a man with chest hair in almost two years. It sounds like a deformity. But she regaled me with tales of men who follow you down the street loudly complimenting your charms and beckoning. Which sounded like a delicious respite from the Chinese man leering silently with cigarette. At least Greek men say what's on their mind.
Yesterday at 4pm I walked out of class with nothing on my mind but how one of my students was enthralled at my cleavage during class (cleavage that was covered Victorian-style almost to my neck, nevertheless he managed to get in a good long imaginative stare). At 4:30, I met with my Foreign Liason officer to request my next five months salary in advance and after some haggling, I got it. I wanted to be able to buy my ticket to Crete immediately, no waiting. Then I checked out prices online and on the phone.
Apparently it costs more money than I make in four months to go to Greece. So to hell with them and their stupid olives. At 4:45, I started thinking about other places.
When I was growing up, and up untill two years ago, I never ever thought I would be sitting in my office saying these sentences to myself:
"I could travel south China more. No, jesus, I need to get out of China for a while. How about....Korea! Yeah, I love Korea. No, I wanna save Korea for later. Scotland? Sigh. Wherever shall I GO?"
Then I found them. The tickets. The cheap ones. To a place close enough not to be a hassle and which lets Americans just waltz right in like they owned the place, no visa.
TELEPHONE TRANSCRIPT:
"Hey, Wes. Wanna go to Japan? Tickets are only $501 American!"
"Dude. Dude, that's 4000 rmb. I make more than that in one month."
"Yep. Wanna go? January."
"YES."
At 8pm, I printed out two e-ticket confirmations for Wes and I, destination: Tokyo. Heart of the Yakuzas. Hub of Dance Dance Revolution, upscale Host Bars staffed by men paid extravagant sums of money to entertain the women guests, ninjas, giant robots, sushi and sake.
Wes called back.
"I've been thinking. Just dropping ourselves in Japan without speaking the langauge and knowing nothing about the land is not HARD enough."
"YOU are A GENIUS. We should do a scavenger hunt!"
"Yes. Since I can't come untill two weeks after you do, you use those two weeks as a head start and when I get there, we can play 'Find Barrie!'"
"Excellent. I will buy a digital camera and email you video and photo clues as to my whereabouts that you can pick up in the internet cafes."
"And you should put obstacles in my way! Obstacles like, mountains, islands...."
"Quanrantine zones, large bodies of water, impassable roads?"
"Exactly. So when you get to Tokyo you should get out of Tokyo as soon as possible and hide yourself in the most remote place you can find."
"You and I think the same way, Wes."
I leave on the 14th. Wes leaves on the 27th. We both return from Tokyo on the 13th from the same airport, so even if he doesn't find me, he'll find me in the end. What could possibly go wrong?
Barrie, The Coolest Person You Know (and who at 4pm yesterday was not going to Tokyo.)