I can relate. I once woke up on a picnic table in a roadside rest area just outside of Flagstaff. On the bench beside me was an empty bottle of Mead, a red square-cut coat, richly laced with gold, and with seven rows of seven buttons.
As I roused myself, I found the still-warm remnants of a small cook fire, with an aluminum pan coated with a residue of fat.
I thought it best to move along. I could find a bottle of aspirin and a bear claw up the road a bit...
Not actually supposed to stop over in Beijing. Way back when I was employed in an Unpleasant Profession, one of the conditions of the job was that I promised not to visit countries that practiced arbitrary detention and enhanced methods of interrogation, this promise binding even after leaving the job. On account of TSC stuff that might potentially linger in the brain. China was on the list.
Of course that was in more innocent days when we never imagined that the US might qualify for avoidance.
To be fair, five years ago when I went to St. Petersburg for a conference, I checked with my erstwhile employers beforehand to see if they had any issues about me visiting the ex-USSR, and the general response was "Don't flatter yourself".
The borders have crumbled, it's time to be slipping away.
13 comments:
Straight up trippin', yo.
"wake up somewhere else without a memory"
Note to self: don't turn back on drink in company of smut.
I very seldom steal other people's beers.
Some somebody say Night Train?
~
Thanks to the above for saving me the trouble.
(The JB version not available?)
Excellent travels.
I very seldom steal other people's beers.
Property is theft.
I'm going to have nightmares.
Somebody say Night Train?
Buon viaggio, old chum.
The worst trip I ever had was a night ride to Trinidad.
Woke up in Hong Kong transit lounge without a memory.
This is surprising since I expected to be changing planes at Beijing airport.
I can relate. I once woke up on a picnic table in a roadside rest area just outside of Flagstaff. On the bench beside me was an empty bottle of Mead, a red square-cut coat, richly laced with gold, and with seven rows of seven buttons.
As I roused myself, I found the still-warm remnants of a small cook fire, with an aluminum pan coated with a residue of fat.
I thought it best to move along. I could find a bottle of aspirin and a bear claw up the road a bit...
wake up somewhere else without a memory"
and how, exactly, does one subscribe to this program?
...um, just curious.
Heathrow now! Oh joy! One more flight!
Not actually supposed to stop over in Beijing. Way back when I was employed in an Unpleasant Profession, one of the conditions of the job was that I promised not to visit countries that practiced arbitrary detention and enhanced methods of interrogation, this promise binding even after leaving the job. On account of TSC stuff that might potentially linger in the brain. China was on the list.
Of course that was in more innocent days when we never imagined that the US might qualify for avoidance.
To be fair, five years ago when I went to St. Petersburg for a conference, I checked with my erstwhile employers beforehand to see if they had any issues about me visiting the ex-USSR, and the general response was "Don't flatter yourself".
The borders have crumbled, it's time to be slipping away.
Woke up in Hong Kong transit lounge without a memory.
Count your kidneys, old chum- gotta be sure!
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