I’m just a man. A salesman

December 29, 2003 at 6:53 pm (General)

So, a couple nights ago, I’m in this bar in Ottawa, meeting some of the milliner’s old friends. Most of them have gone the computer route, either having become programmers or whatever. The times being what they are, most of them were now unemployed. Time for them to get out of Ottawa, thinks I. Anyhow, being a stranger to them all, I’m staying kinda quiet. One chick is handing out business cards for her new career, that of finishing quilts. I have no idea what that entails, but she does it. In Calgary. Finish quilts. Which? I have no idea what it is. At one point, she asks me what I do. “Um, I’m a writer…”
“Really!” (I swear to gawd, she left a wet spot on the seat when I said “writer.”)
“Um, a tech writer,” I clarify. And, no joke, this incredible look of utter disappointment befell her mug: “Oh. Never mind. I guess that’s okay.”
Okay? Bite me. Right there. Oh yeah. I swear, the next time I’m asked, I’m answering “Fireman!” Or Viking. But only when I sleep. Or communicator. After which I won’t say a word. But I’m leaning toward fireman.


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They might have gotten it right this time

December 29, 2003 at 6:52 pm (Climbing)

Going through airports, I’ve often had to explain what all the shiny metal things in my baggage was for.
Moi: “Have you seen Vertical Limit? Well, remember when that family is hanging on the rope? At the beginning of the movie? They’re hanging on these things.”
Airport peon: “What, you do that stuff? You’re crazy.”
Yeah, it’s great when the only reference they have is for god-awful, over-the-top movies like Cliffhanger. But, to tell the truth, I sure am looking for to Touching the Void, Joe Simpsons tale of being stuck high up some mountain, both legs shattered from a fall, his partner gone for help. Yeah, I think I’ll stick to rock myself. Anyhow, the trailer is here.

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