A day in the dark
The day had begun in darkness. A combination of the building site next door callously nicking all our natural, glorious sunlight; and a neigbourhood-wide power cut saw to that. So it was standing in the shadows that I held the telephone & accepted the 1st of 3 job offers which would transform me from a man of leisure to a teacher of 6 year olds, university students, and those fortunate enough to learn english in a dedicated language centre.
I scootered off on my reluctantly slow starting Honda Wave to meet the director of the university & deal with a few formalities. These involved him shaking my hand, and me blagging my tits off about my educationalist qualities, which are still largely untested. In the bag. Jackpot.
I returned to my house with visons of a cooling shower and a celebratory Bruce Willis movie. Power was still down. No cigar.
The afternoon drifted by slowly in a haze of sleep, book, and bettery assisted tunes. When I awoke, the power grid appeared to have taken pity on us and restored light to the upstairs, and juice to the T.V, but cruelly denied us the opportunity to locate food items in our near pitch-black kitchen. I discovered that my mobile phone has a built in torch. How much more useful is THAT than a Wapbrowsersimulatedcameraconeferncecallmp3player?? I found bread. I found butter. I found happiness. I found Bruce to be as thrilling as ever.
Refreshed and revitalised, I caught a xe om (motorbike taxi) to the Backpacker district in the north of the city, to meet my pal Penne – and her fella Alf. Curry was suggested and approved. Cheese was declared to be tofu, and disproved. Karaoke was located, and sung. And as is so often the case on these occasions, the Beatles and Jon Bon Jovi were prominent.
We emerged in the wee hours into the autumn rain. I loacted a xe om and waited while the driver ducked into his house to find his sturdy raincape. My sole protection from the elements lay in my helmet, and its attached storm trooper style visor. Into the night we roared, the khaki and the kat – driving down empty roads in a city that seems to sleep significantly more than New York. We neared the corner of my street. The driver slipped the bike back into 3rd gear, and leaned into the bend as he applied the brakes. The torque was too much. The bike slid out from under us as we both slid into the black road. I got to my feet, and uttered a few choice profanities. A group of men drinking beer on the corner sat and stared. There were no injuries. The bike was undamaged. Even dark days have a little light.
Tags: Motorbikes, Vietnam
The Dude
shut up why wont you shut up
allloOoooooo!!!! (i think your an idiot)
I dont know you very well
im lucy, daniels flatmate (who rules, unlike you)
You might not know me as daniel the greats great flatmate