The Elevator from Hell
The Elevator (from Hell)
The Elevator from Hell:
We were in a hurry and as usual, we boarded the elevator and punched 1.
We live on the 30th floor, and normally the elevator stops two or three times to pick up passengers on the way down.
Two lifts service our block; should someone miss one, they can catch the next. But regardless of the position of the elevators, everyone presses both lift buttons on their floor and gets on the first one to comes along, unless it's full.
As we were in a hurry, things conspired to slow us down. We were on the Elevator from Hell. The stupid thing stopped on every second floor: 28... 26... 24... all the way down to the ground.
No one waited to board at every floor, they'd all caught the other lift before ours reached their floor. All the way down it was a maddening stop and start.
I wouldn't have minded as much had even one person joined us. And what was up with the even-floor number thing? It never stopped at an odd-number floor until we reached 1 at ground level. The elevator demons are still laughing about it.
The Psycho (from Hell):
We boarded a minibus in Kowloon City on our way to Mong Kok. The first thing I noticed the second the door opened was the bus was brand new. I'm talking right off the assembly line, barely broken in, spit-polished and clean. The seats had been lovingly covered in thick plastic for their protection.
I was impressed; many minibuses are old, dirty and not well maintained. We sat in quiet appreciation of our good fortune to have boarded such a pristine piece of work.
Our admiration did not last beyond 30 seconds.
The driver, a piece of work all his own, had brillo hair and a look in his eyes I didn't quite like. My concern became justified when the maniac pulled away and accelerated in a manner of which I'm unaccustomed. He pushed the envelope of performance of the minibus, and there weren't any seatbelts.
Though traffic wasn't heavy, the driver tried every possible combination of lane-changing, weaving, rapid acceleration, and fast braking to gain positional advantage on the road. I could almost hear him cursing in his mind when someone requested a stop.
I've driven in some hair-raising traffic; you'd think I'd be used to it, but it's different when your life is in the hands of another human being, and one who seems unbalanced at that. I thought he'd be a little more careful with the new vehicle. The only thing this nut-job wanted to do is get to Mong Kok as fast as possible so he could load up with more paying customers and scare the Hell out of them.
We arrived at our destination in one piece, no thanks to the psycho from Hell. The next time I take a minibus, I'll check out the driver first.
Sai Kung (from Hell):
Mabel and I went to Sai Kung, on the east side of the New Territories. We'd been told it was picturesque and quiet; a respite from the noise of city life. We were looking forward to it. We decided to explore the sea-side community.
We were hungry, so we went to find a restaurant. Big mistake: I'm allergic to most seafood, and moreover, can't stand the smell of the stuff.
I learned Sai Kung is famous for all the waterfront restaurants that line a considerable portion of the marketplace. These places have huge salt-water tanks with an incredible assortment of seafood. Just take your pick and they cook it for you fresh from the tank: a seafood lover's dream come true. They had it all.
The odor was unpleasant. I felt as though I'd just walked into the armpit of the world. The combined smells of live sea creatures in tanks and cooked seafood wafting from the restaurants wrinkled my nose, and I have a sensitive nose.
New Aussie Friends (not from Hell):
I went to Stanley market on the South side of Hong Kong Island to search for a backpack. I had no luck, but I did meet Keith and Jenny, a nice couple from Sydney, Australia, who were visiting Hong Kong for a couple of days. As I was trying on a backpack, Jenny commented: It looks like you're getting all tied up. I replied: I'm getting there.
We chatted for a few seconds and parted company as they continued shopping.
In my search for the elusive backpack, we crossed paths again while they were having a late lunch in one of the small restaurants. I stopped to say hello.
I had no intention of intruding upon their meal, but before I knew it, 30 minutes had passed and we were still chatting. The next thing I knew, Keith asked the server to bring another chair and bought me a beer. I accepted his gracious invitation and we had a great conversation. I enjoyed the visit and asked many questions; I found them interesting and intelligent.
After they finished eating, the market was closing, so they decided to head back to the North side of the island to their hotel, and as I had to go in that direction to get home, I joined them.
We had a fun bus ride back, and after exchanging addresses, I said goodbye to my new Aussie friends. That's a serendipity of Hong Kong, I can meet people from all over the world.
Most of them aren't from Hell.
April 22, 1999
Next Tale - A Sudden Left