The week that Coopers was.

The wife and offspring have successfully left the trailer park and joined me here, so the journals may become less frequent for the upcoming book with the working title “When Hillbillies Migrate North, and Dang – ain’t it Hot up ‘round these Parts”.

On Turning a Blind Eye
So on day 12 of staying at the hotel, I toddle off to work in the morning. It is a cool and pleasant 28 degrees, so it takes me 10 meters to break into a full sweat (rather than the usual 5 meters). And as I’m crossing the middle of the road, I realize I’m approaching 3 fellers leaning against a black (or very dark navy) 1979 Land Rover, which has Police written on it’s white roof. This sort of vehcile in this color scheme I have only seen on the news (usually involving words like massacre, revolt, uprising or ethnic cleansing). The combination of the Land Rover, colour scheme and the semi-automatic weapons slung over the shoulders … and the fact that feller #1 was not looking very impressed with me. I decide to keep walking. Which he responds by pointing back at where I’d crossed the road. (By the way, the same place I’ve crossed the road, every day I’ve been here so far.) So who puts up jay walking signs, anyway? In fact I didn’t even know that it was a jay walking sign … not that I’d really ever paid much attention to it. It looks more like a sign that is trying to tell police officers not to draw chalk outlines of dead people in the road. Apparently it means “no jay walking”. The dumb & apologetic smile that can only be produced from a West Virginian upbringing got me off this time. Sorry to those that had the early money on my being in detention or caned by now.

Ironically that same lunchtime, a colleague told me of a couple of locals that wandered across the road against the lights and got pinged by the awaiting constabulary. Apparently said constabulary was rather fetching young uniformed officer-ette (if you’re into that sort of thing).

On Successes
And let setting yourself goals be a lesson to those young readers out there. So this week I have located an Irish pub (tell you about that later), talked my way into a Fitness First, and found Coopers. And I found a Hooters. That is just a bonus. (Of course if you’re still reading young readers, then you should try to set your goals a little higher than me).

On Liquid Gold
And a big shout out to Bimbo, who laid some serious ground work tracking down the importer and the outlets for Coopers fine ales. End result is that Coopers can be bought at two supermarkets (you can buy anything from a toothbrush to a bed at these supermarkets). At $4.70 a bottle ($27 a six pack) … as a great man said “cheap at twice the price”. Hope Lia isn’t reading this. May have to sell one of the kids to fund my drinking habit … the blonde haired kid should fetch a good price round these parts.

On Irish
So I found the Irish pub: Dubliners. Not bad. A few Irish drops (Kilkenny, Guinness, Magners). Although small, it had a reasonably “pub” like feel. After a couple of pints (and a pizza), I felt I had to knock a couple of stars off my rating. I have to say that this is the first Irish pub that I have been in that played Cindy Lauper and whoever those gits are that sing “I’ve Got the Hots for You. Uh Huh. I Got the Hots for You.” They didn’t have any Johnny Cash, but I got the Corrs on. Close enough. On Sundays, if I’m brave, I can go back for Sunday roast ($28 with peas and mash). Not sure I’ll survive the Duran Duran, or whatever they’ll be playing then.

On Melons
I mentioned finding the Hooters. The hot dog, relish and Sam Adams brew all get the thumbs up … I could well have been in Pittsburgh or Boston. The only thing that I would say is that one of the cruelest things you can do is put a bar called Hooters into an Asian country like Singapore. Let’s just say that Darwinism hasn’t yet evolved the female species of this region with large cans … or any cans. So to then ask the local serving staff to wear low cut white T’s and to cover their nonexistent tushes with hot (normally) pants … it’s just cruel and unusual.

Peace and Out.