Osaka bandits
In a time where men walk the fine line of having a drink poured over them for labelling some a clichè (...and she was), when colourful language no longer becomes amusing and sounds quite common (...and it was), its always good to have a friend by your side to either laugh with you at your audacity or chip in with an amusing story that smacks of innocence, ignorance and the whole raw deal in between. Alas, I digress, oh yea.
My friend Jet recently purchased a bicycle. Not a special event, not something worth writing about. His bike however is not located near his home, his current place of work or really anywhere you can think for which a bicycle might serve its purpose of allowing him a touch of mobility - oh no, so, pray tell kind Helisher of the Caffeine Death, where is this miraculous mechanical monument to self serviced transport. Well of course it's in Osaka, Japan. Now, you may ask, what the hell is the story behind that ?
Good question - here's the deal.
One Mr Frichot purchased himself a bike to get around Osaka on a recent excursion to the land of the rising sun. He got his wheels on the cheap so really, no fiscal demands were made on this young warrior. However, instead of giving his bike away, selling it or throwing it away, Mr Frichot simply chained it up in front of the hotel he was staying and left it there. You know, there's something very cool and very transient about that act. As explained in our discussion, the simplicity and clarity of thought surrounding this was simply that a) It was his bike b) Nobody would take it and c) It would be there upon his next trip (more than likely 5 yrs away). You see, the beauty in this story is the line which more than likely will join the dots between the past and present. Now, I'm a touch sentimental and I'd like to imagine then when Jet finally does return that his bike is in the same place that he left it. Call it poignant , corny or soppy, but I found the little snippet charming. Anyway, enough male appreciation from me.
So where was I, oh right, a drink almost being poured over me. The amusing thing was that the girl even feigned a pour, spilling half her drink and making the act of spite all the more interesting for me. I just had to laugh. If I can make someone want to pour a drink over me within 90 seconds of meeting them then I think I have a real shot of going into politics or better still, becoming a great lawyer ! Even better, on the way out of the bar I had two friends of hers accost me and come back with 'witty gems' on behalf of their down trodden sister. I believe they went something along the lines of, 'You're ugly' - *aha, pure magic there* and 'You're old, you should be at home with your wife and kids'...Ouch, I mean cut me to pieces ladies. I can't help if you're sister is a clichè, but she was ! LOL You know, I think my calling in life is to walk the earth and make it as unpleasant as possible for all its people. Helisher 1, people of the world 0 (Game on !)
In a time where men walk the fine line of having a drink poured over them for labelling some a clichè (...and she was), when colourful language no longer becomes amusing and sounds quite common (...and it was), its always good to have a friend by your side to either laugh with you at your audacity or chip in with an amusing story that smacks of innocence, ignorance and the whole raw deal in between. Alas, I digress, oh yea.
My friend Jet recently purchased a bicycle. Not a special event, not something worth writing about. His bike however is not located near his home, his current place of work or really anywhere you can think for which a bicycle might serve its purpose of allowing him a touch of mobility - oh no, so, pray tell kind Helisher of the Caffeine Death, where is this miraculous mechanical monument to self serviced transport. Well of course it's in Osaka, Japan. Now, you may ask, what the hell is the story behind that ?
Good question - here's the deal.
One Mr Frichot purchased himself a bike to get around Osaka on a recent excursion to the land of the rising sun. He got his wheels on the cheap so really, no fiscal demands were made on this young warrior. However, instead of giving his bike away, selling it or throwing it away, Mr Frichot simply chained it up in front of the hotel he was staying and left it there. You know, there's something very cool and very transient about that act. As explained in our discussion, the simplicity and clarity of thought surrounding this was simply that a) It was his bike b) Nobody would take it and c) It would be there upon his next trip (more than likely 5 yrs away). You see, the beauty in this story is the line which more than likely will join the dots between the past and present. Now, I'm a touch sentimental and I'd like to imagine then when Jet finally does return that his bike is in the same place that he left it. Call it poignant , corny or soppy, but I found the little snippet charming. Anyway, enough male appreciation from me.
So where was I, oh right, a drink almost being poured over me. The amusing thing was that the girl even feigned a pour, spilling half her drink and making the act of spite all the more interesting for me. I just had to laugh. If I can make someone want to pour a drink over me within 90 seconds of meeting them then I think I have a real shot of going into politics or better still, becoming a great lawyer ! Even better, on the way out of the bar I had two friends of hers accost me and come back with 'witty gems' on behalf of their down trodden sister. I believe they went something along the lines of, 'You're ugly' - *aha, pure magic there* and 'You're old, you should be at home with your wife and kids'...Ouch, I mean cut me to pieces ladies. I can't help if you're sister is a clichè, but she was ! LOL You know, I think my calling in life is to walk the earth and make it as unpleasant as possible for all its people. Helisher 1, people of the world 0 (Game on !)
posted by Helisher at 11:22 am
3 comments
