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| I had a lovely dream last night by Quétinbec 05/19/2009, 8:22pm PDT | ||||
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| In the dream, I was with the Gypsy and it was great. When I woke, I remembered in real life she's married. It made me very sad so I thought, "I'm gonna make a big deal of this. I'll listen to lots of sad music and get all this sadness out." But, the only music player I had was my cellphone and with its tiny 1GB capacity, the saddest music available was Billy Idol! Fortunately, 'Eyes without a Face' and 'Sweet Sixteen' were sad enough to do the trick given the high level of sadness I was already feeling at the time. Let this be a lesson for those who think they can skimp on an MP3 player's capacity! Don't put your feelings at risk! (TM)
Here's a funny story about a trip with the Gypsy that is not a dream. We were on a sleeper train in Northern India. When we arrived at our section in the train, she was very rude to all the Indians and Nepalese there. She wouldn't talk to them as a rule and usually wouldn't greet them. Like, if they said hello, she'd say, "Hmm." or something dismissive. I thought it was rude, so i'd try to be nice to them. She thought I was naive and weak. The braver ones would be rude back to her and she would ignore them. She would always take the top bunk so it was harder for anyone to steal things from her or touch her or talk to her. I was on the middle bunk. There was only one Nepalese guy, a young guy, who had had the balls to be rude back to her on this occasion. It always put me in an awkward position when they did that because I thought it was fair enough that someone is rude back to her, but she seemed to think it was my role as her...whatever I was to her... to threaten them and stick up for her like a good Romanian man. The guy-who-had-had-the-balls-to-be-rude asked if he could borrow my cellphone so he could call his girlfriend. Cellphone calls are only 2c a minute in India so I didn't mind. Once he'd finished his call, he sung Stevie Wonder's "I just called to say I love you" to himself. I say to himself, but he probably sung it to show off to us. He only knew the chorus. I wanted to watch some videos on my iRiver, but I knew if I pulled it out it would blow the minds of these poor men and I didn't want them crowding around its 2.1 inch screen. Besides, I only had cartoons so I was worried they'd think I was childish. After a few hours though, I thought fuck it and watched them anyway. They were very curious about it. They asked me what it was and what it did. Then the young guy asked me how much it cost and I used this as an opportunity to show off my wealth to the them but, MUCH more importantly, to her, who I knew was listening in her bunk above me. I would often use conversations with Indians as a way of showing off to her. I'd tell them about how much money you could earn per week in New Zealand doing a shitty job, how clean and beautiful it is, etc... In this instance, I told them that my MP3 player retails for $US500. They all become very excited after I worked out the equivalent in Rupee. Even an old guy in one of the bunks on the far wall who'd been ignoring us was talking away with them in their languages about it. I was frightened at how interested they'd become in it after learning this fact and felt foolish because up until then, I thought they were just normal honest guys, but now I felt like they were going to steal it. I tried to put them off by saying it was like a cellphone and without it's very special charger, it was useless, but I don't think they understood. They were just thinking that little cunt of a thing was worth two year's income. I couldn't sleep. At one stop, some soldiers or policemen (they all wear the same green uniform) came and took away one of the old guys in a top bunk and he didn't come back. I was thinking we were entering a pretty fucked up part of the world. I hid the MP3 player quite deep in my bag and wrapped my arms around it. How could anyone possibly steal it without waking me? While I was half asleep, I felt something tug at the end of my sleeve. I opened my eyes and saw that the young Nepalese guy had one hand on my bag, and the other, which I guess was supposed to open the top but which had instead got caught in my sleeve. I hugged my bag tighter and stared at him. I can't remember if I said anything initially. I don't think I did. He jumped back and said my bag was falling off and he was pushing it back up for me. It was always falling off because there wasn't enough room for it so that didn't mean shit to me and I knew he was trying to steal, but it was an OK excuse. I didn't know what to do, so I kept staring at his eyes because they were the things I could see most clearly. I was hoping I'd think of something to say or maybe I'd get angry and swear at him, but nothing happened so I ended up just staring at him for what seemed like a really long time and then, I shit you not, he started singing the chorus to "I just called to say I love you" again! He sung it a few times and I looked away and wondered what the fuck was going on and wondered if the Gypsy was awake to hear any of this. He didn't sleep for the rest of the night. He left his bed and walked around the train, looking for things to steal, I guess. Everyone else slept. The next day, I avoided eye contact with him. I thought that could be his punishment. That was the easiest way for me to signal to him that I thought he was trying to steal from me. He ended up resting on an entire bed during the day like a selfish cunt (during the day they're supposed to fold down to become seats for even poorer people). When the Gypsy and I reached our stop, he stood up and said goodbye to me and gestured to shake my hand and I shook it like a fucking idiot and felt dirty. I wasn't sure if I should tell the Gypsy about what had happened because she'd use it as proof that she had the right attitude with these people, but I was curious to see if she'd heard so I did tell her. I pretended I was aware of the risk of showing off my MP3 player but that I was prepared to take that risk because I was proud of it and I shouldn't have to keep it hidden because I was scared of those assholes, when the truth was that I wasn't aware of the risk and just wanted to show it off to her so she'd think I was rich and fall in love with me. Instead, she thought I was vain and stupid and later, on my last day with her, she tried to steal it herself! About 3 months agon, when I was in Australia, a bottle of Tea opened in my backpack and destroyed that MP3 player. Normally when something like that breaks, I smash it open to see what's inside. I couldn't smash this though! It was freakish. I was outside on the driveway with it and a hammer and I sat there wondering what was so precious about this broken thing that I couldn't smash it. It was like a magnet was keeping the hammer back. I've never felt that way about an object before. I kept that bricked piece of shit on my desk thinking I'd eventually get bored of it and at least throw it in the bin, but I couldn't even do that and when I left Aus, I wrapped it in a plastic bag and hid it in one of the landlord's boxes under the stairs. |
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I had a lovely dream last night by 05/19/2009, 8:22pm PDT  Sleeping Quétinbec: Crime and Punishment by 05/19/2009, 8:56pm PDT you forgot "handshake" NT by 05/19/2009, 9:04pm PDT That's not a punishment. NT by 05/19/2009, 9:14pm PDT The angelic faces of Nepalese children hide a terrible secret (latent thievery)! by 05/19/2009, 9:04pm PDT |
