USA Email Series 7: Fried dough, cheese, sick, phone loss and tortoises.

(First sent: 22nd July 2009)

Hi everyone,

This week I’m dining mostly on humble pie which is an improvement on my recent diet of Dunkin’ Donuts and the treats from the “fried dough” stand in central Boston (which is just as disgusting as it sounds).

The reason for my humble pie consumption is that despite my early cynicism, I was clearly wrong about swine flu. You’re all bloody ill and it’s spreading like the clap in a Newcastle nightclub on a Friday night.

My advice? Stop sneezing into each other’s faces and go get some Lucozade - as everyone knows, Lucozade only exists to guide the sick through the healing process, much like the sugary tears of a saint. Either that or stop picking your noses and launching the nasal biscuits at each other.

Whatever it is that you’re doing that’s spreading the muck, I’m glad I’m safe here, where literally no Mexican people can cross the border to spread it amongst the most powerful nation on earth. If only I could resist licking people’s faces I’d be immune.

Thinking about that, I’m actually pretty exposed to diseases and illnesses, what with the hosteling system offering, as it does, absolutely no solitude whatsoever. Sometimes, the aspect of hosteling which involves living on top of each other can be pretty disgusting, such as this week, when I was forced to ponder the immortal question “sick or cheese?” when confronted with the contents of one of the sinks in the Boston Hostel.

If cheese, it was definitely of the American variety and not the more popular Swiss, which is an interesting choice, especially if it previously resided on a sandwich, where I believe the American variety is superior.

If sick, then it definitely originated from the bottom of an extremely spent barrel as it was the color of the sun.

Of course, I settled on the possibility that it was indeed both, which was a comforting revelation as I brushed my teeth and struggled to retain my breakfast.

Another odd aspect of hosteling is to do with some of the older people that use them for general traveling. Without trying to sound elitist, I hope that when I get to a certain age, I will feel able to book a bloody hotel when seeing the sights rather than live cheek by jowl with people unable to discern the difference between sick and cheese.

A frightening bloke is here from India on business. He never goes outside and chooses to spend all day in the communal areas befriending all the 18 year old Chinese boys, putting his arm around them when talking to them in the kitchen and trying to make eye contact with the girls. He's basically like a suspect uncle who is always wanting to play “horsey”. He also enjoys grinning manically at me through his bushy moustache from across the communal area when I’m trying to author semi-amusing emails. The man’s either insane or dangerous and I’m getting the hell out of his way.

Of course, travelling isn’t all avoiding dangerous psychopaths. There’s a down side too, and a major crisis was averted this week as I left my phone in a local dive bar. Obviously, I didn’t hold out much hope for the phone and was delighted when I called the bar and was told it was handed in and that I could pick it up at any time. When I arrived I joked with the barmaid (who didn't strike me as someone you would describe as “a big reader”) that I assumed she had made plenty of long distance phone calls overnight. Her reply was; “Oh no. You called just as we were going to ring the number, so that we could let you know it was here.”

I really hope she was joking. I doubt she was. You might as well go out and use all the petrol you want. Go fly on Cheapobumojet to Vegas. Kill strippers, burn tyres, melt ice caps with a Bunsen burner, shoot rare and exotic creatures and hang them in the study, because humanity is clearly doomed and we might as well have a few yucks before the impending apocalypse. The general populace of the most powerful nation on earth are bottom feeders of the highest order.

So there you are for this week’s musings American. Unfortunately (as you can probably tell) It’s been a bit of a quiet week for me as I couldn’t advance to Washington DC due to the fact that every-pissing-person in the whole country seems to be wanting to stay there, so was forced to stay on in Boston about 4 days longer than my level of interest in Boston could sustain. The bonus has been that I saved a bit of money, but I’m delighted to finally be on the way.

Here’s what I have been up to:

1. Completed the entire “Freedom Trail” about five times – this is a tourist trail around the town which covers all the areas of civil war interest. Unfortunately, I have little / no interest any more after over exposure to monuments and dudes dressed as town criers leading herds of gawping, slack jawed tourists to Sam Adam’s burial site. There’s only so many ways of explaining “It’s a grave”.
2. Discovered that bagels repel water when trying to use half to mop up spilt coffee.
3. Observed the lady next to me on the train completing “101 Bible word searches” bringing a literal aspect to the concept of ‘finding Jesus’.
4. Spent a ridiculous amount of time wishing I was at home.
5. Taunted Aussies about the ashes. Still feels great even when you’re half way across the world.
6. Been forced to listen to the tedious ramblings of the woman sharing the dorm room with me, droning on and on about the benefits of swapping her house in Perth with a couple in DC as it “really let her broaden her wings”. You spread your wings love, not broaden them. Now come here while I pound the door of my locker repeatedly into your face, then burn it into your forehead with hot wire…
7. Got overly cranky about a slightly dull woman trying to be friendly. Clearly not in the best of moods. She even had an annoying face – sort of simple and mushy and well meaning and expectant, like a tortoise that’s discovered the meaning of Christmas. It was the kind of face that just made me want to introduce it to some sharp cutlery or… oops, here I go again. “Happy thoughts, happy thoughts.”
8. Heard a German express the opinion: “I’d rather talk about Hitler than Hasselhoff”
9. Heard two drunks insulting each other, and one issue the threat “I’m gonna set you on fire”. I didn’t stick around to see if this threat was carried out, but I can guarantee that within thirty seconds of setting him on fire, a group of American tourists would have gathered to observe that the display “looked like it was in 3D”.
10. Ate quite well – two salads and normal pasta this week. Unfortunately, the cheap food is dirty, so you have to make a real effort to eat well. This effort has paid off, and the backpack definitely felt easier to carry through the subway. Either that, or I was robbed on the way here.


So that’s it for now. Hopefully I’ll have more excitement to report next week when DC is on the agenda and Obama finally sees sense and recruits me to whip this country into shape. Plus, I’ll have wise musings on the Lincoln memorial and the cultural offerings of the capital, as well as my usual round up of the week’s news, an interview with Philip Scofield, a look ahead to this week’s soaps and a make-over.

Byeloveyoubye xx

...Number 3 on the list of 'things I did that week' still makes me laugh. By the way, I am now pretty sure that it was cheese. I am a disgusting boy...