Thursday, June 30, 2011

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

Went down to dinner tonight by myself to enjoy some delicious (or lack there of) dinner food.
Tonight was apparently bar food night. They had wings, fish sticks, and a bunch of other shit I can't pronounce nor will I taste.

I started out with the cream of chicken soup - which was more like water with "chicken" pieces soup. It had an alright flavor, but should have been in cardboard box labeled "chicken stock" than in a bowl. Of COURSE, I had the chicken wings. Chicken wings are my favorite food in the world. If chicken wings approached me to do a commercial for them, I wouldn't even charge. "I'd do it for free, chicken!" (Thanks DC). Except... these chicken wings were Indian chicken wings and tasted like every other Indian dish I've eaten in the past 5 weeks. I had 2 and stopped. And a tear dropped my eye...
They also had fish sticks. Which, from what I remember as a kid, were a step above Fisherman's Best. Next to the fish sticks was something they called, "Fish Mexican". I was confused. I thought mexican fish WAS the fish sticks. "Fish Mexican"? They must have known I was eating there tonight. Awful sweet of them. It was pieces of "fish", wish tomato sauce and some peppers and such. Not bad, but I'm not sure what kind of "fish" it was. I think it was more, "hey there's some stuff at the bottom of the box of fish sticks so lets add something to it and call it mexican". Ain't that a...
So there I was, enjoying my "delicious" dinner when some dude sits at the table next to me. He's obviously likes the Indian food a lot more than I do because dude was smacking away like he was 7 years old eating some Apple Jacks. Fool was smacking so hard, I thought he was doing the naughty under the table. I was afraid to look. Of course I did.
I'll move one.

After finishing my one and only plate, I was sitting enjoying my beer and my burnt-to-a-crisp esophagus, when I noticed that each and every waiter on staff had one eyebrow. I wonder if that's a requirement on the application. Like, I'm pretty sure they found out how to get to Sesame Street, these Bert and Ernie looking motherf'ers. It was wild.

And then, someone's phone rang. And I'm not talking a regular cell phone ring, it was the EXACT ring from the T-Mobile commercial back in the day.
And then another. Same ring tone.
And then another. Same ring tone, EXCEPT the acoustic version. Apparently, VodafoneIndia doesn't allow ringtone downloads.

And if one more fool tries to speak Hindi to me, I'm going to speak pig latin back. Two can play that game. I would give anything for someone to try and speak spanish to me right now. That I can handle.

Now I'm back in my room, answering emails and browsing that Facebook mess. Geez, this place is boring. It's like watching Bob Ross paint happy trees, but less exciting. I'd rather be fishing... in the toilet. As a matter of fact....

Until next time...

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Well That Was Different

Talk about a week!! Holy crap, that was different.
Work week was frustrating as HELL. Stuff with information, with people that I work with, with just being here for a full month now - I wanted to eat a packet of Pop Rocks and drink a Coke and hope the myth was true. Was looking FORWARD to the weekend and now that the weekend is over, for good reason.

Went to happy hour on Friday after work in Bandra - another suburb of Mumbai. The place was called Red Box and I'm not really sure why. It went from being a restaurant to being a night club. There was even a dj... if you could call him that. We watched him "work" the night - partly, because his equipment was next to the waiter station. He was like, "let me play this song and order you a mojito at the same time". Oh, but he played the part. No doubt. Dude was all douched out with his headphones on one ear and shiny shirt and WAY too loud jeans. But it was funny because every time a song would change, fool was talking to a waiter or eating something. Not sure which cd he downloaded his mixes from but they weren't bad... pretty sure I can get the cd myself, though.
Chilled there for awhile and took the LONG ride home. By the time we got here, everyone had sobered up and gotten real sleepy so it was an early night. Eh. It's Friday. Go figure.

Saturday, we went to the mall down the street from the office. Really nice mall. Except for the fact that each and every store was a mimic of North Park Mall. We went into several stores looking for clothes to buy. If you know me, I don't shop for clothes often at all. I'm still sporting shit I bought in high school - and that's real talk. The only time I go shopping for new clothes is either at Halloween when I'm buying my costume or when I have a date and want to look good. And the last time I had a date, I'm pretty sure Clinton was still in office. But that's neither here nor there...
Since I was in a new mall in a new city, I was looking to splurge and buy some new jeans or something. Looking more to fall into the Gap, and ended up falling into Jersey Shore. Couldn't buy JACK in this mall. Until I went to Planet M - a Traders Village version of Sam Goode. This fool went CRAZY in there. Bought 38 DVDs and a couple of cds. Even got to the point of buying Aladdin... yea... went there. Apparently, I was looking for a whole new world.
Felt bad about myself for not buying clothes so we went to Pepe Jeans and I grabbed two shirts right next to each other and a packet of socks and checked out. It wasn't until I got to dinner that I realized that one of the shirts I bought was sparkly. Pft. Great. Using it at a under shirt is going to be great.
There was another store there called Big Bizaar. Which is a smaller version of Big T Bizaar. This place had EVERYTHING. I could buy pasta, cotton swabs, a teddy bear, an iron, and a pair of shoes right next to some fresh fruits. Outside of Walmart, this place was the shit. Except when someone tried to speak Hindi to me. Go figure...
Then time for dinner. Went to Rainforest... with was ALMOST Rainforest Cafe, minus the little kids and the store at the front. Expensive as shit! But REALLY good times. And then the waiter tried to speak Hindi to me... After dinner is when shit got real. After 8 hours at this damn mall, we caught a rikshaw to the hotel. Which probably wasn't a good idea since we bought half the mall. Our combined weight with bags was around 830 lbs. Which meant the rikshaw was STRUGGLING to make it. We made that niggas Check Engine light come one. That's how we roll. Got back to the hotel and I had to head to the bar. Can't stop, won't stop. P Diddy ain't got Jack (Daniels) on me.

Sundays are usually uneventful 'round these parts. Except today, Mark wanted to go and buy a guitar so we went into town and tried to find one. The place was pretty cool, but on the way back, the car that we were rolling in broke down. I'm talking DIED. No power whatsoever. Had to push that hoe to the other side of the street. Almost died twice, but hey. Whatever. We tried to find a taxi to take us back but with 475 people trying to do the same, it wasn't so easy. I ended up chilling on the side of the road, holding the guitar, smoking a cigarette. It was effing awesome. Finally got ANOTHER rikshaw and piled three grown ass men in a 3 ft bench seat. Sweating like Aretha Franklin walking 10 feet. Sticky and smelling like four day old peanut butter and jelly, we went into a bar. That was WILD! It was in a basement and called the Enigma Lounge. DJ was AWESOME and the drinks were ok. And then the waiter spoke Hindi to me...

So now, after a LONG ride home, I'm sitting in bed about to pass out. Laundry is done, work in the morning, 2 weeks left of my original journey, and hoping to hear from my friend soon. It's been a hell of a week but loads of fun. And. Well. Different.

Until next time...

Friday, June 17, 2011


I could masterbate on the streets here in India and not get judged. That's how free this place is. Count it.

I've come to realize that the difference between home and this place is that the people here are more "free" than any group of people I've ever seen. Even more free than the bitches I've seen walk into Mac's and walk out with someone. That's real talk.
The things I've seen here in the past three weeks is the most amazing things I've ever seen in my 30 years on the third rock from the sun. I'm not talking about how cheap things are - I've been living off of the same $200 I came with. I'm not talking about how the company paid for me to get here and live. I'm talking about how Americans can be the most arrogant, self-assured people on the planet.
Tell me that someone in Arlington can walk out the door and pee on the side of the road without judgement from people like me who see it and think they're dirty but no one else would. Tell me that someone in Texas can walk up and down the middle of the street and only get a honk from a moving car, making sure you don't walk in front of it and get hurt. Tell me someone in Dallas you can wear the same shirt, 35 days in a row, buttoned down to the third button, showing all sorts of smelly body hair and no one but ME will judge you on the smell of onions and corn chips when you walk in.
I took video of my way to work the other day finally.
If you notice at the beginning, there is a dude in white, relieving himself on the side of the road. it is 8 in the morning, folks. Eight. Which either means he is a G and has a penis the size of a ficus tree or he doesn't care who's watching. That nigga is free. And letting it go freely. All out in the open like "the world is my urinal". That's what I'm talking about. I get nervous peeing at freaking Boomer Jacks in a trough! My only saving grace there is melting the ice. And this fool pulled over his rickshaw and let it all hang out and just went, man. If that ain't free, I'm not a mexican with bad credit.
We, as Americans, have lived in the microwave age for so long that we demand results right away. The people here are so un-time aware that I'm the only one in the room wearing a watch. And I bought this hoe from a fool on the side of the road who OBVIOUSLY didn't worry about time. He didn't worry about time so much that the second hand on my watch is slower than Tom Cruise realizing that he is a homosexual.
Rode down the street the other day and came upon a young man and his sister sitting on the side of the road. Something was odd about what they were doing so I just kept watching. As we came upon them in the wild driven hotel cap, I noticed that the little man was playing with his "little man" on the side of the road as the little girl watched.
Now. You can't tell me that if some little nigga was on the side of the road in Ft Worth, tugging at his Vienna sausage wouldn't get arrested for that mess. If I can't live in a world where some dude can't discover that touching his one-eyed pleasure snake makes him giggle, then I just don't want to live. Hell, his pecker with bigger than mine! Who knew.

Anywayz... with a "z".

I'm now at the hotel, drinking the $100 bottle of Jack with 7 Up. I would say "don't judge me", but I know better. Shit is free at the hotel!

Until next time...

Friday, June 10, 2011

India or bust

So this time last summer, I was sitting in a BADASS apartment in Denver, Co, wishing I was back home with every part of my being. I hated leaving home, even though I was only a 2 hour flight away. I wasn't that Denver was a bad city - it really was kind of fun. It was just that I wasn't at home hanging out with my friends.
Oh, how the times have changed. Today I'm sitting in an empty apartment in Powai, India - 8,829 miles away from home... and I'm ok. No, I'm not sleeping much. And to be honest, I'm even impressed with MYSELF on that one. It's not that I'm not trying - I really am lying in bed in the dark trying to sleep. It just ain't happening. But I've still doing work at the office, I'm still hanging out with my new bartender friend and still able to be up and answer emails/texts in the middle of the night slash middle of the day in Texas. Yup. I'm pretty bad ass.
Or stupid. Eh. That's neither here nor there.

Maybe it's because I've finally grown up a little. Maybe it's because I'm being forced to be here or be unemployed. Maybe it's because I like curry. (No. That's NOT it.) But I'm really not having a bad time here. I'm getting to teach some pretty cool people about the system I've been drowning in for the past 2 years. And I'm getting to experience an ENTIRELY different culture while getting paid for it. Can a brotha get an amen?? Well well. You KNOW a mexican ain't one to give up some free shit. I'm talkin' 'bout so cheap, we wouldn't spend a lovely evening.

I will say this: The weather here blows harder than Kim Kardashian at an NBA game. It's hot, humid, and hot, and sticky, and hot. My hair hates it. Just saying. I'm looking more and more like there are spiders having a meeting on my head. Whats worse is that I said I wouldn't get a hair cut until I get back home... in 4 weeks. It's only been 2 and I'm already looking like Wilmer Valderrama. We'll figure it out. I just hope my trainees don't think this is what I look like on a normal basis. Like, I walk in and they think I wake up in the morning and do this shit to my head on purpose. Like I went to the Einstein School of Hair.

Along with the weather being terrible, the traffic here is RIDICULOUS!! We are only about 15 min from the office and it took 2 effing hours to get home yesterday. At one point, we were sitting still for so long, everyone started getting out of their cars and walking. I thought I was in an REM video. I thought a nigga was about to get subtitles.

J Buck got here today. Which means one of two things: I'm either going to FINALLY go out on the town and see what kind of trouble I'm going to get into, or I'm gonna spend too much time with him and turn into a douche. Either way, it should be interesting. I'm really looking forward to hanging out with some of the people of India and seeing what professional level they're on. I'm sure I'm WAY more professional, but that's neither here nor there.

Faith is not knowing what's going to be, but knowing what's going to be will be ok. Write that shit down. Twice. Cause Jack Daniels is kicking in and I won't remember. But that's neither here nor there.

Until next time...

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Oops. I'm Fat.

So just completed my first week in India. I smell like hell and my hair looks like shit and I'm not really having a bad time.
Training is going alright. I do realize that I could never be a teacher. Ever. In life. Some of these "grown ass adults" are acting like kids with ADHD at a light factory. I don't know if it's a language thing or a "I'm an idiot" thing. Either way, I hope they get this quick because I may have to break out a whip and treat them like Kunta Kinte. Your name ain't Toby, sir.
So apparently, the yearly monsoon is coming on Friday. And everyone thinks it's going to be beautiful. Now, I'm not sure, but I have never considered a effing hurricane "beautiful". Yea, rain is fun and all, but I'm not gonna get excited about a flood. Just saying. I'll just sit in my room and eat cookies and chips until it's over.
Damnit. I'm fat.

So the food in India sucks ass. I've never like Indian food and these fools just sent me to the one place that I can't eat jack shit. It's spicy and it all tastes the same - like spicy sweat. I've tried to find any kind of western food on the menu here at the hotel, but it STILL tastes like feet. Had peanuts at the bar and they STILL tasted like old onions and corn chips. I would kill to eat a quarter pounder from McDonald's. I'd even settle for a Taco Bell hard taco. And that ain't even beef!

Went to Chili's for happy hour yesterday. Their happy hour consists of a buy-one, get-one free... INCLUDING the Presidente margaritas. Holy India - that's the best idea I've ever heard. That's like having a party and charging at the door and people ACTUALLY paying to get in (yes, I remember you fuckers not paying but I'm over it so don't worry about it.... I'm fine.... just dandy.... I'll move on). The only thing they didn't have was food that I wanted to eat. Who would have thought that the Chili's in India wouldn't have good food. Especially since Chili's in America serves great food....
Yup. Still fat.

So as far as sleep goes, I've been missing it. Since I slept on Sunday when I got here, I've had all of 14 hours of sleep - until last night. Fourteen is 2 hours more than 12, in case you didn't know. That's less than the whole "Roots" series. And I say UNTIL last night. Last night, after Chili's, I proceeded to drink like I was Snoop Dogg and alcohol was marijuana. So when I got back to the hotel and found Scott sitting on the couch with 4 huge empty bottles of beer, I started tripping out. TV was on mute and he was on his laptop. Sat at talked to him for a bit, I think, and passed out. Woke up 12 hours later. Hell yes. Ambien what? Just get hammered. Works better and WAY more fun. Pretty sure I am on the right schedule now but it's still early so we'll see.

So we went to Mumbai today to see the city. It was pretty cool! Saw the Gateway to India, saw the ocean, saw some dirty people who sold me a watch, and a monkey. Pretty eventful. Went to a bar after shopping and of COURSE, I am going to buy a tshirt. Asked the waiter for one and says, "Extra large?" A little offended, I said, no - a large will do. He replies, "are you sure?". Yes, motherfucker, I'm sure! Just bring me my damn shirt. Geez. Didn't have the black one I wanted so I purchased it's yellow brother. Got home and realized that not only should I have taken the extra large, I should NOT have complained about it on Facebook because now I look like an idiot. I look like the sun's retarded, misshapen star brother from the Butterfinger Galaxy.
Fat ass.

I honestly tried to go work out the other morning before work - since I wasn't sleeping anyway - but the gym didn't open until 6:30am and that wasn't enough time to do that, take a shower, and catch breakfast before work. It's the most important meal of the day. Don't judge me.
I'm fat.

I know I complain a lot about being here but I'm seriously not having a bad time. It's definitely a culture shock but I'm really having fun. The bartender at the hotel bar is pretty cool and we've become friends a little. Imagine that. I'll be home soon enough, though, and have a Champps burger, a Whataburger with no onions or tomatoes, a quarter pounder with cheese from McDonald's, a steak from ANYWHERE, and fries. At the same time. All of it.
Oops. I'm fat.

Until next time....