Translations, Toilets, Travel & Trampolines
Translations, Toilets, Travel & Trampolines
Warning signs often make me laugh.
At a grocery store on the lower floor of a shopping mall, this sign was posted: Beware of Escalator. Questions popped into my head: Why? Is it dangerous? Does it eat unwary shoppers? Does it stop without warning, catapulting people to the bottom? Is it possessed?
Once inside, another ominous warning greeted me: Beware of Floor. Why? Is there a hidden trapdoor? Will the tiles come loose and fly spinning at high speed into my defenseless body? Is it possessed?
That evening, while getting ready for bed, I noticed the toilet had a bit of paper in the water, so I flushed it.
Big mistake. Unbeknownst to me, it had become clogged, and the water began to rise — and me without a plunger.
I lost my mind and pleaded with the toilet to not do this to me. It ignored my plea. In the state of sudden anxiety, I forgot to reach down and turn off the water valve. That would have solved the immediate problem of overflow. Instead, I watched it spill over the rim and flood the floor. Then I remembered the valve.
At least the water was clean. I vowed to buy a plunger the very next morning. This would not happen again.
I should post a sign: Beware of Toilet. That'll make you think twice about using our facilities when you come to visit.
Soon after that unfortunate incident, I travelled to Manila for the weekend.
The scars from a stay at the YMCA in Makati were still fresh.
But this time I was pleased with the trip. Our flight was good, and we arrived at the new terminal at Ninoy Aquino International Airport, otherwise known as NAIA. It's a huge improvement over the old terminal. We zipped through immigration and baggage claim in record time, and getting a taxi was a piece of cake. It was a short ride to our hotel and the traffic was lighter than usual.
Our hotel was within walking distance of our meeting venue; no taxis were required. The hotel was several steps up from the Y. It included a buffet breakfast for both mornings of the stay.
We checked in and headed up to the room. After unpacking our luggage, I stretched out on the bed.
It wasn't a bed; it was a trampoline.
I flopped in and was flipped back out. That was one springy mattress.
I tested Mabel's bed; it was the same. We could have done circus acts had the ceiling been higher.
Then I tested the pillow. The pillow marshmallow was so soft, my head made contact with the mattress. I could have gotten whiplash from the rebound.
A hammock would have been firmer.
The only hitch came when it was time to leave. A festival and parade was passing in front of our hotel. Traffic was backed up. Our driver, a crafty little dude, found back streets and side roads that were less crowded and got us to the airport on time. We tipped him well for that.
Our return flight was uneventful, and we sailed through the airport right onto the Airport Express, the high-speed train that took us to Central District on Hong Kong Island in only 35 minutes.
From there, it was a short taxi ride to Causeway Bay. Our driver spoke not a word to us, and he didn't assist us with our luggage.
Someone should have posted a warning sign about him.
February 3, 2000
Next Tale - The Year of the Dragon