I'm putting together a power point presentation on backpacking. Do you have a short story that you'd like to share? biking drunk and falling into rose bush? getting drunk and waking up in another country? nothing is too racy or too gross.
PPP where? For why? With who?
I was taking the bus from Mendoza to Buenos Aires....a marathon over 14 hours. Sucked. Anyways, they have all these double decker buses. The upstairs is nice and bright and spacious...Downstairs is like steerage on the Carpathia...hot and cramped and dark.....So, of course I chose steerage. You meet weirder people down there.
Stopping in San Luis, a VERY old woman is led to the door by her family. They get her to the door, help her up the six inches into the thing, and then promptly bolt for the exit. She is left to totter down the cramped aisle, and get up the six inches into her seat by herself....She is struggling, so I go to help her up
"No Me Toques, Guillermo!" she says with a violent wave of her hand. *Don't Touch Me William!*
So, rebuked, I watch her struggle into her seat for five minutes. Everyone else does the same. No one wants to be punched by Granny.
So, for seven of the next eleven hours, we get Granny.....
Occasionally she yells at people who ain't there...Actually, it ain't that bad. The yells are short, followed by her vain attempt to get her cane up to poking range. She has the bladder of a sparrow so is up to the bathroom a dozen times. The first time, it is just as painful as climbing up the little step, so I stupidly get up to help her down
"Largate, Chavo!" * Get Lost, Boy!*
So, all of us watch her struggle up and down.
Hours later, I am sawing logs. The landscape out of the tiny porthole windows is flat and bland like Saskatchewan. I wake from my drooling mouth agape snoring to hear a large amount of banging and carrying on. The woman has locked herself in the bathroom and has forgotten how to open the door. A woman in the front row closest to the john is telling her to calm down. The bus attendant, a dude in a bow tie and slacks, is trying to tell her how to open the latch. The crazed woman inside is screeching. The bus is stopped and the bus driver is going through his non existent collection of tools for something to pop the door. (The man has a hand wood saw???? but no wrench or anything)
I listen for a minute, looking out at the bland landscape. I've helped twice and gotten bawled out twice. I'll just watch them struggle, I say to myself. I'll just sit here on the side of the road and wait for Bowtie and Handsaw to come up with something......
"Fine." I say. I go to the door and look at it. Out pops the Leatherman. There is a plastic cover over the latch mechanism. Just there so people don't mess with it. I pop that. Inside, a simple square nub, designed to be turned with a special key *parts sold separately* obviously. So in goes the Leatherman.
But the woman is now throwing her body at the door. The lock is good, but the door pulses in and out. I can't get a grab on it with the Leatherman.
"Hang On Hang On!" I yell in English.
"Guillermo!? Hijo de Perra!!" *William!! You Son Of A Bitch!!!*
"Shaddap, ya old battleaxe!" (I actually said this, having never said it before in my life. I was safe in English, I thought....though the gist got across, I am sure, because the collected passengers immediately began to natter about it.)
Finally I get a grip on the nub and turn the lock. I pull the door open. I figure I am good for at least a thank you. Or some applause from the other passengers...The old woman whacks me across the yap....She accuses me of locking her in there...and storms back to her seat....the adrenaline, I guess, has given her some power, cause she throws herself into it. The passengers, all standing, slink back to their chairs, and the attendant and driver turn without another look. I fold me Leatherman. I check the latch...it's fine.
The woman from the front row, a kindly middle aged type, pats my arm once.
- ***Victory! Recognition for a job well done!****
An hour later, the old woman gets up with a scowl in my direction, and gets off the bus on some rural road, met by a couple in an ancient car who are not smiling. Grim world.
[ Edit: Edited on 25-Sep-2009, at 13:09 by Piecar ]
And, by the way. If you ask for something where someone has to take time and effort to accomodate you, it is only polite to answer their followup questions a little more expansively than "for school"
Why should anyone put in the effort if you won't? Life lesson.
Use the story for your SCHOOL project with my blessing.
As a traveller, its not a chore, but a blessing for me to talk about my own travels. I love telling people about it at any chance I get. Sorry that 'school' was not up to your standard.
A short story.... Norway, 'WOW'. The end.
PS - I'm lost for words.
Yeah, definitely something interesting to talk about. I just back from vacation in Maldives. And guess what, it was during the month of "Ramadan" - the month of fasting for Muslim. If you are at the islands resorts, you would not even feel there is any difference. However, we went to visit the capital where all the locals stay, and to our surprise, all the restaurants, tea-house are close during day time, and only open in the evening. Practically, you can't find anything to eat at all for the whole day.
Ashley, people must love you at parties...Apology accepted. I think telling stories being a "blessing" is a bit strong, though.
[ Edit: Edited on 27-Sep-2009, at 01:17 by Piecar ]