Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Cape Town Characters

So Cape Town was stunning and I met some really interesting characters there. Amongst them, another medic from the UK, you just can't seem to get rid of them. Also a British lady in her 60's who's backpacking the Garden route before meeting up with her family. She plans to use the Baz Bus which is a sort of 18-30 club on wheels which actively promotes its passengers getting drunk and trying to get hitched as part of its appeal; not quite sure how she'll get on with that. I also met an American who never gave me his name but whom the rest of this blog is about. If your reading this, don't worry it's nothin personal, I just don't like you.

Lets call him Stan. Stan was a prick. An arrogant, loud, drunk prick. Someone who wore the "just come out of the jungle 3months after a plane crash" look as if its everyday fashion. Stan was loud, loud and obnoxious. He had great pleasure in being the centre of conversation and because he was clearly an imbecile, never ran out of things to say by regurgitating the same stories every night giving a new definition to 'new day, same shit'. His approach was always the right one, his advice was always to be heeded and his opinion was fact. Stan regularly told the story of how he backpacked down through Africa from Nairobi, essentially the reverse of what I'm doing. Disgruntled at how his bag was supposedly broken by a bus company, he spent 3 full days hitching to Cape Town from Windhoek - a journey that took less than a day by bus by the company he holds an immature grudge against. Stan complains things are expensive but then acknowledges them to be infinitely cheaper than in the West.

He asks me questions about where I'm from and places I've visited which I diligently and politely answer whilst at the same time trying to revert attention back to the film on tv were watching and looking for any feeble excuse to leave the room. I eventually find this by excusing myself to get a drink despite holding a full glass. I mention to Stan that I live near Birmingham which he goes on to laud as his favourite part of the UK despite appearing rather dangerous. He assures me that I will be well prepared for any dangers in Africa since I've spent time in Birmingham. He says he's from Seattle, I mention I lived in Arizona for a year and in another 10minute lecture he seems to turn from disgust to respect that I "chose" to live there. Apparently New Mexico where his 'mom' lives is so much better and then Stan try's to convince me it is in fact still part of Mexico!

After a short breather he then quizzes me on places I've visited in the UK: 'have you been to Birmingham?' Despite me just telling I live there (it's easier than explaining about 'liechestershire'). Yes I've been there. "Have you been to Manchester? Edinburgh? Scotland? (Er Edinburgh is in Scotland mr) Oban? Have you been to Oban?" Yes yes I have. And it's pronounced O-ban not 'Ohbaaaaarn'. This man has the mental agility of a dead fish, in the hour that I spent in his company he painted a picture of the American people that would instantly stop any immigration problem that country may have.

Occasionally he'd turn his attention back to the film were trying to watch, a animation adventure thing. It's like trying to watch a show with an annoying child poking your ribs and interrupting every few seconds. "That's some quality animation there, do you know how long it takes to do that?". "Look at the digitalisation of the kineasthetic ability of the lizards eyes, that would take 6-10hours per day to do". "These people are very skilled!".

I don't give a damn, I don't care about the quality of the animation and most of all I certainly don't give a flying quack quack about what you think about it. Haven't you seem Shrek or Harry Potter or the Simpsons even? Animation is common has muck, I'm sorry they didn't have it in your plane crash of a jungle you've just crawled out of. Why don't you grow up, shut up, have a shave and a wash, stop drinking like a bloated fish and put your voice to good use by finding a deserted island hundreds of miles from anyone else and talk to yourself and the little fishes and sharks whom would like nothing better for you to fall off your perch and provide a quick meal. Now excuse me whilst I go refill this full glass of juice!

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