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Attack Of The Weekend Warriors

September 1, 2012

My hostel, which was a ghostly mansion all week, has undergone a transformation.  It is now absolutely packed with trendy young people coming into the city for a weekend of clubbing.  They’re all showering and ironing their shiny clothes and working on their hair until around midnight, which is when they finally pile out the door in rowdy packs.  It’s a lot of high heels and silk shirts and Axe body spray.

I could not be more out of place.  No-one is going to mistake me for a young, urban, party animal anymore.

I’ve mostly been reading my big, fat, Umberto Eco novel today, rather than roaming the city in these shoes I so dislike. (I did get in a couple of kilometers; can’t completely stay indoors.)  All this traveling has been fun, but I’m looking forward to slowing down for a while.   I am ready to settle down and get to work teaching.  And earning a little money, instead of just spending it.

My employers have found me a perfect little apartment, quite close to the school. I can’t wait to stock the kitchen a bit and set up my computer speakers, so I can listen to music while I play internet chess with Jeromy. I’m looking forward to seeing the same faces every day, seeing people more than once, feeling like I have a place and a role, something more than just being a tourist. I’m excited about teaching again.

I came here to live and to work. I’m ready to get on with it.

UPDATE: 11:29.  They have gone at last.  The swearing, the farting, the stamping and preening, the cackling and snapping, the sound of the schoolyard, have finally echoed away, down the stairwell, out onto the street.  Just let me get a few hours’ sleep before they return.  I packed in advance and have everything ready, just so.  Please let them be dog-tired when they stumble back up the stairs at dawn.  I need to get up at 7:00 to catch my train.

6 Comments leave one →
  1. September 1, 2012 11:26 pm

    I foresee a drunken wake-up call.

  2. Borbert Neaver permalink
    September 2, 2012 1:35 pm

    I never understood the silk shirt thing, they always feel far too flimsy to me like at any moment a brisk breeze could rip it off my back and leave me standing half naked in public like the police have warned me against.

    I used to work in one of the main Unilever factories where they make that Axe crap. The factory is right at the top of the hill near me, and sometimes if the wind is right the smell of the stuff covers the entire neighbourhood. Luckily there’s a water purification plant a few miles away that’s working on cancelling it out with their own unique aroma. I’m still not sure which smell is worse.

    • September 4, 2012 5:38 pm

      I don’t much care for wearing silk, either. It just makes me think of cocaine-snorters, a class of people I have always avoided.

  3. Louis permalink
    September 3, 2012 1:30 pm

    With all the walking you always do, you need to get some shoes that really protect the bottom of your feet . . . like thick soles and heels. Otherwise, you may start having problems like many walkers past age 45. Also, putting insoles and heel cups inside the shoes can be very soothing.

    Think about this even if you have just bought a pair of shoes.

    I’m sure those young people would have been glad to take you along on their carousing adventures.

    • September 4, 2012 4:18 pm

      I may well look into getting a good pair of old guy shoes. You’re right, it would be a good investment for an inveterate pedestrian.

      No telling whether I could have tagged along, but I would really rather not have accompanied those young party animals to their discotheque. I was quite glad when they left the building.

  4. September 11, 2012 2:11 am

    Your writing makes me feel like I’m right there with those drunken idiots and now I’ve worked myself up into a rage. Sleep is sacred!

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