Getting By

The end, as it were.

After I got into the main venue, I made my way to the Bird’s Nest to see what I could see.  Of course, I had my pins with me, and was thinking maybe I could sell a few.  No, that’s a lie: at this point I had given up on the pin trading/selling business, and was just there for the sights.

People were everywhere around the Bird’s Nest, lounging around and staring at the athletes that were waiting to march into the stadium.  I eventually found the Olympic Hospitality Center, and realized, with a sense of stunned disbelief, that my pin business could have exploded had I discovered this place sooner.  It was practically empty, but everyone there had pins.  Good pins.  Alas.

I decided to go into the Bank of China center, even though I think my ticket was only good for the VISA hut, and began to eat their food and drink their beer.  Like you do.

A concerned young Chinese woman eventually approached me:

“Excuse me.  Are you supposed to be here?” she says.

Me: “What?  Of course.  Why else would I be here?”

“Oh, because all of our clients are in the stadium…” with a slightly disbelieving frown

Me: “Ah, yes, well, my dad is a client.  I decided not to go to the stadium,” I replied as nonchalantly as possible, lying through the teeth.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“Oh…okay…”

Thank you, Bank of China, for your average buffet food and cold Budweiser.

Once things were over, and the digitally enhanced fireworks were set off (the ash of which yet managed to drift down over the venue and imbue the air with the slightest hint of a freshly lit match), I wandered back outside and bumped into, almost literally, Vince Vaughn.  Neat.  Hands were shook, backs were patted, compliments given.  Sadly, no pictures were taken; he didn’t want to cause a scene by stopping.  Understandable.

So…now the Olympics are over.  Well, they’re technically well over, but I’m just now getting around to writing about it.

Things will change here, I promise.  Updates!

Well, things obviously got slack from when I first started this.  What can I say, Fall Semester was just brutal; I’m a bit surprised I made it through it alive.  But New Year means New Leaves to be turned, right?  So here goes a resurgence of traveling.  And, really, it’ll be fun.

I left off with the Russian girl getting a free ticket.  Not long after that, a guy offered to give me his Olympic Hospitality Center Pass, which wouldn’t get me into the stadium, but would at least get me closer.  I figured it was good enough.  I stuck around though, with my big ole sign, in hopes of scoring a free ticket.

Inevitably, I attracted attention.  The volunteers who had initially been amenable to my tireless supplications were replaced by individuals who were slightly less…amicable.  Namely, secret service.  Now of course he didn’t come right out and say it, but this same guy had harassed me previously, and had intimated that he was kind of a big deal.  Anyways: he was dressed in plain clothes, and told me to put my sign down.

“Why?”

“Because you’re in China.”

“So?”

“So you have to obey!”

“What?”

“It’s against the law, you have to obey!”

“Uh…no, I don’t think it IS against the law, sorry.”  It should probably be mentioned that I am a big one for antagonizing authority.  It has gotten me in trouble on a few occasions, and arrested…well, zero times at the time of writing.

“Listen, guy, don’t be a dick.  What’s your name?”

“Bob.”

“Don’t be a dick, put down the #$%!ing sign.”  At this point I figured he was secret service.  I mean, his English was exemplary, and the average Chinese citizen does not care, at all, about some schmuck white boy and his sign.  Hell, half of them were laughing at me and taking pictures.

This sort of back and forth continued for a few minutes until finally he gave up and went to find the lead volunteer lady.  I shall call her Angry Hobbit.  And the secret service guy shall be dubbed Incensed Midget (I’m not using these terms to indicate any sort of prejudice against Chinese people.  These two were just short, angry, and vaguely Hobbit-looking people).

Incensed Midget and Angry Hobbit began establishing a perimeter around me, bodily moving other, lesser volunteers until a path was formed that channeled the crowd away from me.  Anyone that tried to break the wall, and take a picture of me, was immediately rushed by Angry Hobbit and forced to retreat or face spittle, yelling, and a redfaced old woman in volunteer clothing.  So, left to this desolate wasteland, behind enemy lines, I decided to advance.  I walked forward about 50 feet.  The line broke, Incensed Midget and Angry Hobbit kept pace.  I stopped.  The line reformed.  I waited a few minutes.  I walked backwards 50 feet.  The line broke, Incensed Midget and Angry Hobbit kept pace.  I stopped.  The line reformed.

Let it be known, from hence forth, that, if nothing else, the Chinese are remarkable creatures of habit, and predictability.

Of course, by the time the ceremonies were about to start, I decided to use my OHC pass and get in.  Incensed Midget followed me towards the gate.  “You have to leave your sign, stupid American.”

“Oh, yeah?  Okay.  You gonna come with me inside?  Are you following me?  Are you in love with me?  I get it, it’s okay, I’m a pretty attractive guy.” I said as I looked  at him blankly.

“Yes, man.  I love you.  I want to $%@! you up the ass.  I want to make you my bitch,” was his response.  I swear.  No lie.

I went in, he didn’t.  I left my sign for him, though.  I think he ripped it in half.

Next Week: the rest of the Adventure.  Other traveling news.  Thoughts on global affairs