Blogging Like I've Never Blogged Before

Wednesday, November 03, 2010

I did nothing fun today. It was all worky work busy bee.

Soooo, what to blog about? I signed up for this NaBloPoMo thing. It's not anything perverted, despite the sound of it. It stands for National Blog Posting Month. It's just kind of a way to force you to blog every day for a month. Sorry, not "force", but "inspire." So I figured, Hey, I'll be in China. That's inspiring.

When I was in the airport on my way here, I kept hearing that announcement you hear a million times. Something like, "Don't accept packages from unknown persons." Or whatever it says. About the 439th time I heard it, I was wondering why that announcement is necessary. Did that used to happen all the time? Was there an era in passenger aviation where there were just people giving out packages to people waiting for flights, and it was cool? Then one time, some asshole over Lockerbie ruined it for everyone.

Seems to me that "Don't take box cutters on planes and please don't fly planes into buildings because that's pretty much a dick move" would be more useful.

So I ordered room service a while ago. I don't think it's going to get here. This was the conversation:

Room Service: Ni hao, room service (then some stuff in Chinese).
Me: Ni hao, I would like to place an order.
Room Service: Order?
Me: Yes, a food order.
Room Service: Hold. (I hold for a minute, then a different person comes on.)
Me: I would like to place an order.
Room Service: OK.
Me: Noodles with beef.
Room Service: Order?
Me: Yes, the noodles with beef.
Room Service: Room number?
Me: Four oh eight.
Room Service: Number?
Me: Four oh eight.
Room Service: Number? Four?
Me: Yes, four zero eight.
Room Service: Eight?
Me: Four oh eight (I thought I'd try "oh" and "zero" but neither seemed to work).
Room Service: Four? OK. (Click.)

Oh well. If there is a room number 48, they might be eating my noodles right now. Or it's taking so long because they are meticulously making me 408 noodles.

Hello, Pringles from the minibar.

I can't believe they didn't speak better English. I mean, come on! I am in YOUR country. Have the courtesy to learn MY language. Am I right, people?
All material © Mike Toole; 2003 - 2006