Sleeping in a mall
When my shoulder bag emerged from the X-ray machine the tech said, “What have you got in there, books?” Apparently carrying books is suspicious behavior. No wonder people have always feared me; I thought it was the misaligned eyebrows (one permanently higher). In fact I am carrying corrosive material: I’m rereading The Best Of Saki on this trip.
PAL 318 to Hong Kong was rocked by turbulence for most of the flight. I passed on the lunch and had the salad and a glass of wine, which due to the buffeting of the plane settled in my esophagus. Hong Kong cloudy, scattered rainstorms, cooler than I’d expected. Heavy floods in the past week–just found out that in HK they have a storm signal number 8. The taxi drivers all seem to be auditioning for Formula One, or else they fear that the cab will explode if they drive under 50.
I’m in Room 910 of the Marco Polo Hotel, which is literally in a mall. The hotel’s old but well-maintained, and walking distance to the new bookstores Ted my Jedi master told me about. In true Jedi fashion he couldn’t remember the names of the bookstores, the streets they’re on, or the buildings they’re in. But this has never been a problem for those on a quest for books.
Answers to questions you might be asking, unless you wandered onto this site purely by accident >>>
June 15th, 2008 at 15:22
the last time i left manila the woman doing the final inspections pulled out the hardcover tome in my bag (the long embrace by judith freeman), and asked me what it was. “a book,” i replied. she looked very, very sceptical, but opened it up, took it out of its dust cover, and ran through all the pages to make sure i hadn’t carved out a niche for a bomb or something. she ignored the rest of the contents of my hand carry.
June 17th, 2008 at 09:53
hm… wouldn’t it be eerie if you get blocked by security for entering a plane with a copy of Farenheit 451 in your bag?