The shit has hit the fan. Least according to Warren Zevon.
For those that have had the privilege of mongering with me around the globe it has been a reoccurring theme in my adventures. It seems I have the innate ability to cause trouble and mischief in whatever country I have been in. Some regard this ability with horror and try to avoid being around me while others anxiously await it like a redneck waiting for the “big one” at Daytona. I just call it my sense of adventure.
I speak Spanish passingly, I speak enough Thai to be extremely dangerous, and if you count Tagalog being some bastard mongrel of Spanish, English and whatever the hell the people spoke before it was occupied by every other country on Earth that too. I can say emphatically that the one English phrase that has translated successfully and not bastardized by local dialect is Fuck You! I have done numerous field studies in every country I have been in and Fuck You was always spoken clearly with the exact same meaning I came to know and love in America.
My field studies have usually involved fuck you being spoken or shouted at me by some angry woman that has misinterpreted my worldly charm for either rudeness, sarcastic comments, or something in between those two things. I have always chalked it up to cultural differences and have boldly continued on my way around the world. Why let a little cultural breakdown slow me down!
Where most people get a little nervous when around me is when fuck you is followed by threats of my impending death. I will admit that the first few times this caused me to pause in my endeavors and possibly retreat to a place of safety. Now I just smile, check my mental map of the country to see if I have been issued a death threat before and if not I quickly put a mental marker in place. If I have been threatened with death before, depending on how angry the woman is who is threatening me I lapse into soliloquy on my previous threats.
I still remember the first time it happened. It was in San Jose, Costa Rica and it was by a Dominicana that I will be generous in calling butt-fucking-ugly. In this case I lay the blame on someone else for pointing out this specimen of of genetics gone horribly wrong. There was a table of us sitting in a disreputable place call the Hotel Del Rey known for its large quantity of women in need of tuition assistance or rent money. We were mildly intoxicated when we saw these beast walk by and in our alcohol soaked brains we tried to figure out of this woman was Klingon or Wookie. It was finally decided by the wise men at the table she was indeed Wookie. This mainly had to do with her large flowing fro and it being dyed blond.
Seeing how my mission in life is to provide micro grants to women that frequent this place me and another gentleman proceeded to take a lap around the establishment and through the heart of darkness itself, The Blue Marlin Bar which is attached to the Hotel Del Rey. There is a small walkway that you can go through to access the Blue Marlin which experienced mongers call The Gauntlet. It’s a wall lined with various single ladies who in an effort to entice micro grants from yours truly will usually grab on your dick as you walk through. To me it was a chance to get my dick rubbed for free as anything on that wall was a shark that you could not pay me enough to fuck… well; maybe if we discuss price.
So as me and the other gentleman made or way through The Gauntlet there was Chewbacca’s ugly sister. As we passed in front of her I pointed this out to the other guy by blithely going, “Hey look there’s Chewie”. It seemed perfectly reasonable that being in a predominately Spanish speaking country I would not be understood. WRONG!
It turns out Chewie spoke English and was versed in slang. She immediately understood what I said and who it was direct at. I don’t think she was upset about being called a Wookie. I think she was upset that I mistook her for her famous brother but I could be wrong. What followed was an angry Wookie following me around the Hotel Del Rey threatening to kill me while I tried to quickly retreat to the table occupied by my friends who witnessed this with vast amusement. So ended my first death threat in another country. It was a sign of many to come.
The funniest death threat I have ever received was refusing to pay a driver an extra $1 for a ride when the agreed rate was $1 already and $2 was just an obscene amount. It was a matter of principle and damn if I would not be cheated out of my dollar.
My most recent death threat was in Pattaya, Thailand. A very drunk girl who I just happened to meet while staggering to my room sometime around 4 that morning was pontificating that she could have me killed by her uncle who was a police officer. Now if I had a Baht (sticking with the country theme) for every bar girl that has a relative in the police force then I would be a very rich man. Having already faced death in Thailand and being a seasoned vet at death threats I smiled and laughed. Pulled out a stack of money (Reality is I used a money clip and fold the infamous Spanky wad to look far more impressive than it otherwise is.) and pointed out that I had more than she did. Thais being practical people she understood that money talked and bullshit walks. If I wanted her dead I could have her snuffed for a few thousand baht so shut up and sit down or impress the fuck out of me by having me bumped off. Thai practicality being what it is and seeing how I bought the bottle of Thai whiskey she went with shut up and have another drink. Since I like to live dangerously I ended up sleeping with her that night. There was blood all over the room the next morning but that’s a different story.
Eventually I’m sure my antics will catch up to me but why slow down now when it’s so much fun. I am sure eventually I will be on the phone with someone asking them to bring lawyers, guns, and money because shit has hit the fan. Until then there is a whole wide world to continue to discover if fuck you is truly universal and if I can add a new marking pin to the mental map of death threats by country.