In Circles

Duri Price

Monday looks like this:

Get up. Get fuud.

Go to A’Dam central station, then downtown A’Dam to check email. Cancel my phone interviews with UK companies for jobs with pay rates of around £120,000…

Scream.

Go to travel agency. Price ticket for Istanbul ($260). Takes awhile to find anything, flight is via Hungarian airline. They can’t take my bike unless I’m willing to ride with it in my lap. Don’t leave till Thursday.

Go back to Amsterdam Central Station to price train ticket to Brindisi, Italy (where my uncle lives). Line is over two hours long. Bugger that.

Take train to airport, go to train ticket sales booth there. Price ticket to Brindisi. $200. Call Uncle, send him on wild goose chase for price of ferry from Brindisi to Istanbul.

Uncle calls back, says it’s $160, takes two days, cabin is in engine room and shared with chickens, drops me off in Cesme, Turkey, from which I travel by goat to Istanbul.

Scenic, but no. Maybe next time.

Go back to A’Dam, go back to travel agency, buy ticket on Hungarian He-111 via Budapest for $260. This leaves not enough to change my ticket return date out of Istanbul, but I figure I’ll worry about that later. What else am I going to do?

Go to bike shop to sell pretty new bike. Am told that I can’t sell it there, but if I can find someplace else that will but it I will get about $200 for it, if I’m lucky and throw in a blow job. Express displeasure. Explain why I am doing this. Cajole.

Am told that this series of events should not have come to pass. Bike guy is ex-airline guy, says airline weenie just not want to exert effort on Thog’s behalf. Thog must go to airport and talk to big airplane man, eat little airplane man.

Scream.

Go to airport, find ticket office. Talk to nice Jamaican woman. She listens, checks records. Weenie airplane woman has put comment in Thog’s file that Thog must go to Istanbul because Thog is Thog. Nice Jamaican woman goes and talks to big airplane man. Comes back, says big airplane man and she agree; other airplane weenie must die. Will be killed. Never call reservation line. They are Pakleds.

Nice airplane woman fix stuff, make it so Thog show up Tuesday with money, ticket all good. Thog leave on birthday, Tuesday, at 14:55, arrive in Seattle at 15:30. Apparently Thog sent on ICBM, but not a problem. Thog get this in writing. Thog not dumb.

Scream.

Go back to Amsterdam, go to travel agency. Say that nice ticket on Hungarian Air Tu-22 now smell like Auroch dung. Thog not use. You want?

Nice travel agent person say Bad Thog! Cost Thog 12 of what he paid, plus flogging. Thog very sad, bang head on table in submission and shame. Nice person worried for table. Sighs, tells Thog it all ok, she just keep $40 and give rest back if Thog go away.

Go to pastry place. Buy 6 pastries, 4 cans soda. Return to travel agency and provide food offerings to Travel Gods.

Go back to friend’s place. Collapse.

Friend come home around 11pm. Thog and friend get drunk on friend’s scotch and tells stories of great mammoth hunts until wee hours of morning….

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