And now I am good to stay here until August, should it please me to do so. Would it please to me do so? Will it please me to do so? Would it have pleased me to have done so? The tense choices here are endless.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Back in prep school they called me 'the sleepy banana.' Because I took three naps today and I wake up in new yellow skin after each one. I have to peel out of this gunk after each time, click-click the AC, put my nipples to the vent just to cool my blood down. I had what was supposed to be my real ultimate rundown with the reddest of red Thailand bureaucratic tape today, when I was to go pick up my Work Permit at City Hall (which, again, is far out in the country side, of course). International Affairs advisor wouldn't drive me and raised his eyebrows when I slyly suggested he should; but he did arrange for a van to pick me up. He gave me the van driver's number to call when I was finished in the tape factory, which I can only imagine is like the multi-colored elastic string obstacle course on Guts. Of course you could call straight under that if you were agile, no problem. The IA man, the Kritter, told me to expect to be there for hours, days even, and so I brought two books and an empty writing notebook. From check-in to check-out took four minutes. When I returned forty minutes after I had left (remember it is in the country), the Kritter asked me what I was doing in his office. I showed him my work permit; he looked at it for a moment as though I had bought it at the market for 50 Baht. No, baby, this is the real, the Sam Pan, the 3000 Baht especial--don't get it twisted, Kritten.