DIARY OF A DOG CHOPPER
Another dip into the the life and times of a dog surgeon in a strange place:I mentioned the new bindings that I got for my board, but neglected the rather odd circumstances under which I bought them. Imagine if you will:
A bunch of rice fields with a snowboarding / skateboarding shop in the middle.You imagine that this place must have incredible customer loyalty to survive being, as it is, no-where near anything, least of all a place where you can find slopes or snow.
You get not quite a sneer from the the guy who owns the place, as you have been before, bought nothing but taken lots of his time. He is dealing with other customers. He has just flogged a board for about 700 dollars.
You pick up a binding. It has no price on it. You go to fetch your boots from the car to see if they fit the bindings. The woman in the shop comes over to "help". She says, "Wow. Your boots don't have laces, they have a kind of pulley system." You look around the shop, spot the same kind of stuff all over the place and mentally note the fact that the woman knows fuck all about snowboarding gear.
You discover the one you are trying is the most expensive in the shop, if not the world. It costs more than you have in your pocket. You pick up another and end-up buying them.
The owner is suddenly all smiles and fifteen percent discounts. As usual with the locals, he is eager to speak English and alternates dishing up single words with the woman. The deal is done. He puts the bindings, expensive Burton ones, in a bag.
Now this is the crux of the story. This is not just a bag. Imagine the thing that your gran takes / took shopping. make it about three times as big. Make it bright red with the word "Burton" surounded by snowflakes on both sides. This thing is gloriously gaudy and fairly camp into the bargain. I kind of like these things, usually as presents for other people. I am now off-balance.
The guy says, "isn't it cute?" You are faced with a dilema: Do you take what he is saying at face value or assume that he is being sarcastic?
Let me fill you in on some of the details. The guy is about five foot ten with died blond hair and likes snowboarding. If he were American he would use words like "stoked". He drives a black van with stickers in the back window.
You hedge your bets and say, "Yep, you could take it down to Friendmart (the local supermarket monopoly) to do the shopping." You then spend the rest of the conversation trying to correct your mistake.
After this you don't take anything for granted. After falling through the middle of the last conversation you somehow manage to negotiate a trip boarding for free, so long as the trip is done in English.
Job's a good one.
Excreted by Mrs DC @ 12:00 PM
2 Comments:
Your negociation skills are impressive.
The whole scene could have backfired disasterously, ending up with you working in the rice field whilst he beat you down with your own shoes.
You should work for the U.N. with skills like that.
I'm still waiting for them to recruit Hulk Hogan to sort out the west Bank.
I'm actioning your suggestions now - where's that KY?
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