Archive for the ‘Humor’ Category
Snake Wine
The story goes like this:
The band had just played our Sunday night show. Sunday is Jam Night, and due to the national holiday, there were more people around than usual. We had a GREAT night. In fact, we had one of the best nights of our trip thus far. Having a great night makes everyone involved feel great, and when the music stops the party usually continues on. A friend recommended that we check out a nearby bar to continue the party and experience something truly Chinese: snake wine.
I said to myself, “What the heck.. I’m a foreigner in a foreign land, I’ll try anything once.”
We walked into the bar and got situated. Our friend (who has been in Shanghai for a long time) ordered the wine and the bartender gave them a second glance.. “Are you sure you know what you’re ordering?” Catching that glance gave me second thoughts but I was feeling good and I figured it couldn’t hurt. Then I saw the bottle.
I looked at the jar. It’s literally a DEAD SNAKE in a JAR OF BOOZE.
The “wine” is prepared by taking a live venomous snake and dropping it into a vat of prepared alcohol, killing the snake and thereby extracting its “essence”. That “essence” is supposed to have restorative qualities, such as increasing sexual libido, boosting the immune system, putting hair on one’s chest, etc.
The bartender pulled out a ladle and began pouring us shots.
I exchanged concerned glances with the band.
The first shot is probably the hardest to get down. The taste is… well, exactly like you’d imagine: disgusting! It’s oily, and strong and smells and tastes of reptile. Some of us could barely get it down.
We pounded our chests and chased it with other drinks, but no matter what else I put down the pipe I tasted it in my mouth for the rest of the night.
Somehow another shot appeared in front of me. I drank that and decided that was enough for me and I began making conversation with different members of the group. The effects of the snake wine began to take hold and I experienced a strange kind of alcohol buzz unlike anything else I had tried to date. My head was swimming with a strange lightness and I could feel an uprising of emotional warmth for everyone around me. I am normally a happy drunk anyway, but this was taken to a new level. I turned to the other members of the band…
To Earl: “Dude.. you are my BROTHER. BROTHER!!!! Since the moment I met you, I KNEW. I KNEW WE WOULD BE BROTHERS. I could feel it deep down in my SOULLLL!”
To Tony: “Dude.. I am so happy to say that you have become my FRIEND. Not just a band mate, but a LIFE LONG FRIEND. YOU ARE MY BROTHER!! We are DESTINED FOR GREATNESS. Can you feel the GREATNESS?! … FOR LIFE!”
I proceeded to tell some of the other friends we had met in Shanghai how much they meant to me and how happy I was to have new friends… “You know, you are up there playing.. and trying so hard to make everyone happy and pour your soul out night after night.. and when we see YOU come in, suddenly everything is okay. We know that if all else fails, we can PLAY FOR YOU! YOU ARE MY BROOTTTHHEERRR/SIISTTEERRRR!!!”
Another shot appeared in front of me. I look over at Tony and he cracks up. We all take shots, toasting this and that “To Shanghai!”, “To Women!”, “To The Blues!”, “To Mike Null!”, “To Whatever-the-fack!”, “TO ALL MY BRROOOTTHHEERSSSS!!!” Can you guess which one was me?
This stuff was my first encounter with a chemical TRUTH SERUM. The drunk high just kept getting better and better as I began “bonding” with more and more people so I decided to keep drinking. I must have had 3 or 4 more after that.
At one point, people started to get sick, but we just laughed and said “HaHA! They can’t hang. The snake is not their friend.” We decided to move on to a new bar to continue the party.
I, unfortunately, never made it to the next bar. Stuffed in the back seat of a cab with 4 other people I felt that familiar bubble in my belly that could only mean one thing. “Guys, I’m just going to warn you.. I’m going to be sick. Very soon.”
We made it to the next bar, but I wouldn’t even go in. I was in full retreat. I immediately turned around and got back in the cab, despite calls from everyone else to continue on. I told the cabbie where to go in what must have been the worst Mandarin he had every heard, because he just started laughing. After 3 or 4 attempts at communication, he got it and he drove me home. With every turn and bump I could feel myself getting closer to the big purge.
I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say that I was SICK. The kind of sick that gives you a six pack. The kind of sick that makes your eyeballs and veins pop out. I was an urban artist, leaving a trail of vomitous graffiti inspired by the essence of snake.
I made it to my bed and passed out, only to wake up STILL SICK. I was sick ALL DAY. Every flex of my sick diaphragm was followed by spiteful curses to the snake gods. At one point I had to text message my band mates to bring me OJ and crackers because I was too lightheaded to get out of bed! I fought the snake, and well.. the snake won. The snake.. was not my brother.
Once I returned to the land of the living, I was chatting with a few locals at the club. They told me that the snake wine isn’t Chinese, but Vietnamese.. and that the Chinese won’t drink it! This is coming from people who eat bullfrog, donkey, duck heads and all sorts of strange (to me) things!
So let this blog post serve as a warning to all you traveling westerners. I have learned to respect the snake!
Locked Out
Okay, so here’s a funny story. This happened a few years ago when I was living with my older sister and her huband.
Back then, Iwas working 6 days a week at a “will remain anonymous” music store (Hint: The McDonald’s of music stores.. sounds like “Fit Tar Lender”). Some days were morning shifts and other days were evening shifts. This particular day happened to be an evening shift.
So, I slept in, got up and farted around the house for a while. My sister and her husband had already taken their commuter train to work and I had the house to myself, well.. not really, if you count the two dogs and a cat.
I was in my boxer shorts and I sleepily poured myself a bowl of cereal. Skimming a newspaper left on the kitchen table, I got a craving for a cigarette (I smoked a pack a day then.. hard to believe! What can I say.. it was a stressful job, this music store job). Finished with my breakfast, I headed outside and lit up first thing. Then, I heard the door click behind me.
“Oh crap…”
Wait, did I have my keys? I looked down, only to realize that I was in my boxer shorts. It was about 11:30am, and I had to leave at 1:00pm to make it to work on time. It suddenly dawned on me that I had completely locked myself out. Fortunately, this was during the summer in Massachusetts. Had this been any other time of year, it would have been FREEZING!
“SH*T SH*T SH*T!”
What the hell was I doing to do? There I was… in my skeevies… in the backyard… alone with the patio furniture. I decided not to panic, and I finished my smoke while I tried to figure something out.
Maybe one of the first floor windows was open? There were about 5 of them. I checked the living room and the kitchen, and of course, they’re all locked. I thought about calling my sister, but she’s an hour away. Maybe the neighbors? No, they’re at work, too, from the looks of it.
I started to panic. I couldn’t even call work to let them know I might be late! I took a step back in the back yard and try to size up the situation. Ah yes! I saw an open window…
…on the 3rd floor. GREAT.. can’t use that.. looks like I’m goin to have break a window to get in. I picked up a loose cobble stone and thought about smashing one of my sister’s beautiful historic windows. As I raise my arm to smash the glass, I began to think of what she would say. “What the @#$#?! You locked yourself out to smoke a cigarette and you had to break my effin’ window?!” I realized that the window breaking would have to be an ABSOLUTE last resort.
Okay, okay.. what would MacGyver do?
I begin to look around the yard to see if I could come up with a plan. I began to eye the patio furniture..
“Hmmm…. wait a second, if I move the table over here like so.. and stack the chairs on top like so…”
After much arranging, I had done it. I stacked two planters on top of three lawn chairs on top of the patio table. That would be enough to get me to in the ballpark, and I’m over 6 feet tall, so hopefully that will be enough!
The voice of reason decided to interrupt.
“Are you really sure you want to do this? What will the neighbors think if they see you?! They’ll call the police! You might fall!”
I decided I have no choice. I began to climb.
About five wobbly minutes later, I had one foot on the second floor window sill and my finger tips barely clinging to the siding. I looked up and I could see sill of the third floor open window above me! I had only one chance to do this.. I was going to have to leap from the second story window to the third story window sill. If I missed, I was going to fall and wake up in a pile of tossled patio and broken bones… if I woke up at all!
So, I braced myself, silenced the little voice in my head that was screaming at me not to do it and JUMPED!
I just barely made it! I was hanging from the window sill, half naked and in plain view of the neighborhood (a very rich and HISTORIC neighborhood.. not the kind of people that want to see THAT on the morning walk)!
I heard a loud crash. The force from my leap knocked the planters off the chairs and they smashed on the brick path below. I also began to hear activity inside the house. Was brother-in-law home?! I listened for a second only to realize that the dogs had come up to the third floor to see what all the trouble was about. A welcoming party… if you will.
Fearing my life, I mustered all of my early morning strength and executed a fingertip pull-up. I was now eye level with a big stinky German Shepherd that began to lick my face as I tried to prop myself up with my elbow to open the windows further.
I managed to pull myself in, only to knock over my night stand and collapse on the floor. I was greeted by incessant sniffing and licking from the two dogs!
I stood up and took a moment to assess the damage. It was now 12:15pm and which only left me 45 minutes to shower, shave, get dress, AND clean up my mess!
So, take it from me.. always get in the habit of checking for your keys before you shut the door. A simple pocket pat will do, just make sure you do it!
Got any funny lock-out stories to share? Leave a comment..