do you have any idea how many pieces of sushi i’ve eaten since i’ve been here. i might have mentioned before how there seems to be a sushi place every few feet where i’m living. there’s kiisu japanese, sushi maro, juno sushi, yamato sushi, sushi ville, alpha sushi bar, and that’s just within a half mile radius. i’ve eaten more philly rolls and dynamite rolls than anyone should ever eat in their whole life. i mean it’s good when you’re hungry but gaddamn. i need more options, vancouver. it’s times like these i miss in-n-out, chick fil-a, and jersey mikes.
i’m still living in the same hotel and the same room as before. there was a time when i still tried looking for a cheaper alternative, but none of that ever worked out. one day, i had an appointment to see this one place i found off craigslist. i took a long lunch break that day and walked allll the way to this one high rise apartment complex and just when i got to the front door, my phone died. i was like, “NoooOOOoOOoO.” i knew the guy’s name was richard, so i pressed through the entire directory looking for richards, there were like three, so i dialed all of them and was awkwardly rejected one by one. just as i was about to give up all hope, the right richard came out of the elevators and let me in.
when i stepped into his place, i couldn’t believe it. i mean, i knew the place was nice because the craigslist post had this one picture of a versace carpet (wtf who has versace carpets) but i had no idea it was this crazy. there was a tiny portable sauna sitting next to the dining room, a life-size buddha statue with a calm flow of water coming down into a small pool, a nice white leather sofa, and some other crazy shenanigans, i can’t even remember. we sat down and talked a little bit. i learned that he made his money off of selling some sort of tech idea? he retired early and now serves as a consultant? either way, i was like teach me what you do because i want your life.
he started telling me about his younger days when he would always go clubbing and pick up random girls, he told me how he would go on these week long yacht trips in europe and there’d be all these supermodels on board, or how he’d be treated to lunch with some ceo of some fortune 500 company at some high class beverly hilton hotel. MEANWHILE I’M EATING SASHIMI OUT OF A STYROFOAM BOX. ugh.
but anyway, we had a nice talk and i learned a lot about myself. i mean, i looked at this guy and thought, “yeah i really want this kind of life. where i don’t have to work and i just have my money and my buddha statues and my portable saunas” but then i thought, “ok, this guy seems to have everything, but what next?” i asked him straight up. he said he didn’t need to make any more money, that he just wanted to relax and enjoy life. while that sounds good and all, i start to think that at least for me, i’d want more out of life than that. maybe life isn’t about finally getting to that stage where you’ve made enough money and you can just sit back and enjoy it, maybe it’s about all those years of ups and downs in between, who you’re with and what you go through. that’s what life really is, it’s the journey. i was putting my shoes back on, ready to go out into the world again with my newfound discovery, when i asked, “whoa, what’s behind this curtain? you got another room back there?” he replied, “that’s the door you came in from.” i was like, “oh. oh yes, it is. whooops.”
speaking of clubs, there was this one random friday night where i found myself in a place called fortune sound club right in the middle of the shadiest part of chinatown you could imagine. i went with a friend from work and her other friend. i was like, “i don’t know these people, but hey let’s go clubbing.” that’s always the best way to get to know people right? $15 cover. right away, i remembered why i got over my clubbing phase. shit is expensive. ok, here, let me give you $15 just to walk over this threshold into your stupid ass establishment and pay $13 for this small glass full of ice cubes, 99% coke and 1% alcohol thank you so much. but the music wasn’t bad, the three of us started dancing, and in my drunken stupor, i looked around and thought, “you know, this is actually pretty fun. i’m having a good night so far.”
several times throughout the night, this one weird guy kept coming over and trying to dance with my two friends. i sort of turned a blind eye at first and felt super awkward. what the hell do you do in that situation? and it’s not the first time this sort of thing has happened either, but i’m not the kind of guy to cut in and be like, “hey asshole, leave the ladies alone.” that’s not me at all. but throughout the night, this guy just kept coming back again and again. eventually it got to the point where he basically stuffed his face into one of the girls’ necks. i’ve noticed this is a move that creepy guys at the club make, they lean in when they talk to you, which is understandable because the music is really loud, but then i guess they slowly get closer and closer till their tonsils are basically in your eardrums. but yeah, at that point, my friend gave me this horrified look like, “HELP ME” and that’s when i extended my hand right between her neck and his face. i said, “ok there, come on.” the guy turned and looked at me. time froze. the girls somehow floated away and it was just me and him. i think he was still too buzzed to really grasp what had just happened, but he said to me, and i remember this word for word, “i’m an armenian gangster. you don’t want to mess with me.” he said it kind of slurred so i couldn’t really take him seriously, but still i replied, “i don’t want to mess with you dude.” i came off kind of weak for sure, but i totally wish i would’ve said this instead: “oh yeah? well i’m a chinese gangster and i’ll fuck you up like expired takeout.” doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but at least it sounds threatening? after that, i kind of floated away and tried to look for them. i wanted to just find them and be like, “omg omg omg we have to get out of here like RIGHT NOW, that guy is gonna kill meee.” i literally feared for my life. i could already see the news headlines. i thought to myself, “oh my god, what if this is how i die? shot to death in a club in chinatown in vancouver. what the fuck?” that would seriously suck so bad. i realize that in all these vancouver posts, i’m always imagining getting murdered in some way. what’s my problem.
so besides all that fun stuff, i’ve really gotten into riding bikes all around stanley park. told ya i would do it. it’s actually pretty therapeutic. i work monday through friday, 9 to 11 sometimes, that’s 9AM to 11PM if that wasn’t clear, and just sitting there like a blob, eating OT dinner just makes me feel like a sad sack of shit, so if i can just take one day out of the week to pedal my ass around a park for an hour, i’ll take it. i remember once talking to my mom on the phone, telling her i do this now, and she was like, “…..by yourself?” YESMOMBYMYSELF. is that a problem. i get to see some breathtaking views, listen to my music while i just roll down a long stretch of road with the shadows of huge ass trees laid out in front of me, wind blowing in my face, giving me a slight headache. what’s not to love. it’s times like these i’ll miss the most when i go back to LA.
damn, is this the end already? by my standards, this has been a pretty short post. alright then, it’s time to go to bed. byeee.
back when i was in high school, i would always grab an issue of the oc register laying out by the front office every morning. i’d take out the comics section and cut out the ones i thought were funny. at the end of the year, i forgot which teacher, but as an end of the year gift, i just gave them all of these comics i cut out paperclipped together.
what. the fuck was wrong with me.
Just shut up.
You’re not doing any of those things.
(this malaysia airlines story is getting seriously weird)