The Sleeping Salesman
Malcolm wanted to pick up an extra travel adapter so we ventured downtown and to Low Yat plaza--the electronic store centre of the city. Just imagine taking all of the electronic stores you can think of, shoving them all into one building, making the use of neon and LED lighting mandatory, and the putting the whole experience on steroids. Wait, let me show you:
Anyway, amid the unavoidable hustle and bustle to this place, we made our way to the store we needed to get to. I let myself be pushed and pulled along at the breakneck speed of the crowd until I was snapped out of my mindless following. I can see him clearly now in my mind's eye: tall-ish, bowl-cut hair, purple t-shirt (with the company ad on the front), pear-shaped Chinese guy with glasses standing in front of the counter at his store...asleep.
Yes. Standing up, not sitting or leaning, but standing up and sleeping. His head was ever so slightly tilted back and to the side and his mouth was ever so slightly hanging open and he was definitely asleep. I know because I checked. To stop would have been to have lost Malcolm and to have caused pedestrian traffic chaos, so I turned around to walk backwards and confirm with Malcolm's brother (who was following a few steps behind) if I'd seen what I'd just seen. A backwards glance and a doubled-over laugh reaffirmed my sighting.
Excellent.
The Bloated Belly
It was six o'clock in the morning and Malcolm, his brother, and I were already having breakfast at the corner restaurant before our day of fishing. The boys were facing me for the better view of the TV and the football game while I was content to face into the heart of the mainly empty restaurant. As any normal person would do, I was letting my gaze sweep my surroundings as I listened to the brothers excitedly talk about the snakeheads we were hoping to catch.
And then, I saw it.
A couple of tables over and a few rows back, there were Indian gentlemen who had finished their meal and were sitting, enjoy each other's company and the football game as well. Nothing wrong with that. Except that the ONE guy sitting, facing me had decided that he had enjoyed his breakfast so much that instead of undoing the top button of his pants, he was just going to lift his shirt up over his stomach and let his (hairy) belly breathe for a while.
Seriously.
I quickly diverted my eyes and complained aloud to the boys about what I'd just seen. When asked why I was looking there in the first place, I pled the "field of vision" plea but neither of them would turn around to peek and share in my pain, refusing to acknowledge its grossness. But then we had to get up to pay the bill and leave, forcing the two to turn around and share in my misery. We all high-tailed it out of the belly's field of vision in order to do the double-over laugh together.
The Motorcycle Mishap
Though not quite as serious as it sounds, this story is quite straight forward. We were waiting at the intersection to cross. As a crowd amassed around us, the motorcycles amassed at the front of the line of traffic as was customary to see since motorcyclists need not wait in line and can weave their way to the front. We had time to look at them, and they had time to look at us. Or so I thought.
The light changed and we were free to cross in front of their paths. Except for one guy. He crossed...and walked straight into the front tire of the motorcycle (and cyclist) waiting closest to the curb. He was caught so unawares by this collision that he was sent into a full body roll before landing on the crosswalk on the other side of the bike. The cyclist (after he regained his senses from what just happened) moved to help the man to his feet, but ended up staying on his bike as the guy got up and bewilderedly walked away.
"Who put that bike there?"
Too bad the other guy hadn't been wearing a helmet.
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