March 9th, 2009
Today’s game ended in failure, and I drew a sad face on my hangman.
On ANGKOR WAT
“David Davis,” said David Davis to his Busy Bee Time Travel machine.
“NAME REGISTERED” flashed on the display. The lucky thing for David Davis was, this time machine was about as easy to use as an average photocopier. This meant that things easily and frequently went horribly wrong, but at the same time, he could figure things out eventually. As long as it never shut down entirely, which hadn’t happened yet. Come to think of it, it was a lot easier to use than a photocopier, because it didn’t break. It was about the size and shape of a photocopier though. That was what had inspired the comparison in his mind. He shouted “1150” into what he had discovered was the microphone part, and there was a swirling flash, and they travelled in time.
Reggie looked at him in awe. “You did it again, you crazy bastard!” he said, drawing the attention of the Cambodians around him, who were finishing construction on Angkor Wat. Reggie laughed loudly and slapped David on the back.
“Well, I am very qualified,” David lied. He was not at all qualified, and was pretending to be another David Davis of the same name, who had either invented or knew a lot about time travel. Whoever had pioneered time travel, (secretly, because David was pretty sure he would have remembered if someone had invented time travel. It would have been front page news! Of course, David didn’t read the paper, so maybe it had passed him by), he had made it very easy to use this time travel machine, so easy that the fake David Davis had been able to scam his way through what would otherwise be a very embarrassing situation.
After a brief and confusing interview in a sushi restaurant, David had boarded a plane to China, travelled back in time, and with the help of Reggie (annoying), Gus (gruff), Angela (very pretty) and two scholars of ancient China from Bei Jing, they had travelled back in time, after some false starts, to when the Great Wall of China was being built and gathered some information about how the whole thing came about. They interviewed dozens of people, with the aid of their Ancient Chinese translators, from labourers to the emperor of China in 1456.
As far as David could tell, Busy Bee Enterprises was in the business of historical inquiry. But he suspected, based purely on his poor regard of human nature, that there was something else afoot. No movie or TV show that David had ever seen depicted time travel being used for strictly academic purposes, and although TV and movies were not always right about everything, David felt confident that TV and movies was right about time travel and the nefarious purposes it would inevitably be put towards. So David was on his guard for things to go horribly wrong. Especially with that shifty Gus. Gus wore a lot of camouflage, and that sort of wardrobe always made David suspicious. Gus also always had a 5 o’clock shadow, which David could not grow. David hadn’t figured out what Gus’s job was yet.
David was also suspicious of Angela, because she complimented him way more than he deserved. Angela was stunningly beautiful, short with short curly brown hair and huge eyes and big pouty pink lips. Angela was the prime historian on the expedition, and seemed to be in charge on that side of things. Reggie was in charge of the business side of things, keeping everyone on schedule, etc. David trusted Reggie, even though he didn’t like him, because Reggie said every thought he had ever had out loud.
They had two new Cambodian scholars from Phnom Penh, who were very professional, and David felt bad that he hadn’t really got to know them yet. Mostly David tried to stay out of the way while everyone else did their jobs, and when he was called upon, he yelled a year into the machine and there they went. And that’s how they had got to Angkor Wat in 1150, right before the death of King Survayarman II.
Showing posts with label time travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label time travel. Show all posts
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
On GREAT WALL OF CHINA
February 18th
I got this one with one letter! And it was O!
On GREAT WALL OF CHINA
The interviewer wiped his mouth with his napkin. He was halfway through his plate of sushi. David had managed to eat 3 of his sushis.
“I thought you knew what the job was already! You’re going to be going to China!” he said with excitement.
David’s eyes widened. No wonder the man thought he would enjoy Asian food.
“That’s funny that you didn’t know that already!” said the interviewer.
“Yeah, I guess I got to read the ads for job openings more carefully,” David sort of explained.
“You read what?” The man cocked his head to the side, and a gulf of misunderstanding developed between them. “We called you, buddy! You’re the best in the biz! We’re really excited to have you on board!”
David suddenly realized that he was not the person that the interviewer thought he was.
“Oh… yeah,” he said. He wanted to see where this was going.
“You really are crazy!” the man laughed, “Ahh well, that’ll keep things interesting. We got a long plane ride ahead of us, you and me.”
It was at this point that David thought about fessing up and admitting that he was at the wrong interview. The thought of sitting for sixteen hours and having his personal tastes corrected by this man was horrifying. Besides, he knew how this would end: the longer he kept going with the misunderstanding, the more awkward it would be when he was found out. No, this was a bad idea. He should try and find his real interview.
But wait, thought David. There probably isn’t a real interview. Whatever company he had sent a half-heartedly compiled cover letter and resume to hadn’t called him at all, just this guy. And there was always the very slim chance that this would lead to something that would give his life a little bit of meaning. And if not, he had been embarrassed before.
“When do we leave?” he asked, swooping up to sushi portions and stuffing them in his mouth.
The man smiled, “Tomorrow! We got no time to lose! I guess no one told you, but you’re an emergency replacement for the first guy we had. He got cold feet, couldn’t stay away from his wife that long.”
“Oh yeah, we are going over to China for a very long time,” David said without attempting to cover his food-filled mouth. He assumed that the irony in his voice would be lost on the man, and he was right.
“Well, yeah! Two years!” barked the man.
“Well, I certainly don’t have a wife to worry about!” David said, a little too loudly, and they laughed together forcedly, with a tinge of sadness. The interviewer’s eyes looked down at his laugh briefly, and David could tell that the man wasn’t married, but wished he was.
“How long have you been with the company?” David asked.
“About a year now,” said the man, chastened, “It’s a great company to work for, and you see a lot of places. I was in Peru last year, and I also got to do a stopover in Russia. Usually they have me just doing the business end though, this is the first time I’ll actually be able to go with you guys.”
“Who else is on the… expedition?” asked David, hoping that was the proper word for whatever it was they were doing.
“Uh, Gus Ferraro, Angela Reynolds, and a couple of Chinese guys I haven’t met yet,” the man responded. “They’re already over there, getting things ready. Oh, I’m so happy that you’re game for this. I was worried that you wouldn’t be able to do it. Ever since we started the Great Wall Project, it’s been nothing but snags and snafus. And look, you’ve eaten all of your sushis!”
David looked down at his now empty plate. He hadn’t realized that, in the excitement of trying to extend the lie as long as possible, he had eaten the entire loathed dish, washing it down with Tiger beer.
“Well, buddy,” said the man, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Did you have any other questions for me?”
“What is your name?” is what David wanted to say. “Where are you from? What job is this?” Instead he said, “Where should I meet you?”
“Here’s my card,” said the man, whipping out a yellow business card with a cartoon bee on it. “Just call me in the morning at six o’clock, and we’ll get a limo to come ‘round to your place and pick you up, take you to the airport. I gotta run, but this has been great, see ya buddy!” and he pushed open the glass doors of the sushi place and ran towards a waiting limo. David looked down at the business card. It said “Reggie Miller” in funky letters, and below, in smaller letters, “Big Bee Enterprises”, and a phone number. David turned the card over, but there was nothing on the back indicating what the company’s purpose might be.
I got this one with one letter! And it was O!
On GREAT WALL OF CHINA
The interviewer wiped his mouth with his napkin. He was halfway through his plate of sushi. David had managed to eat 3 of his sushis.
“I thought you knew what the job was already! You’re going to be going to China!” he said with excitement.
David’s eyes widened. No wonder the man thought he would enjoy Asian food.
“That’s funny that you didn’t know that already!” said the interviewer.
“Yeah, I guess I got to read the ads for job openings more carefully,” David sort of explained.
“You read what?” The man cocked his head to the side, and a gulf of misunderstanding developed between them. “We called you, buddy! You’re the best in the biz! We’re really excited to have you on board!”
David suddenly realized that he was not the person that the interviewer thought he was.
“Oh… yeah,” he said. He wanted to see where this was going.
“You really are crazy!” the man laughed, “Ahh well, that’ll keep things interesting. We got a long plane ride ahead of us, you and me.”
It was at this point that David thought about fessing up and admitting that he was at the wrong interview. The thought of sitting for sixteen hours and having his personal tastes corrected by this man was horrifying. Besides, he knew how this would end: the longer he kept going with the misunderstanding, the more awkward it would be when he was found out. No, this was a bad idea. He should try and find his real interview.
But wait, thought David. There probably isn’t a real interview. Whatever company he had sent a half-heartedly compiled cover letter and resume to hadn’t called him at all, just this guy. And there was always the very slim chance that this would lead to something that would give his life a little bit of meaning. And if not, he had been embarrassed before.
“When do we leave?” he asked, swooping up to sushi portions and stuffing them in his mouth.
The man smiled, “Tomorrow! We got no time to lose! I guess no one told you, but you’re an emergency replacement for the first guy we had. He got cold feet, couldn’t stay away from his wife that long.”
“Oh yeah, we are going over to China for a very long time,” David said without attempting to cover his food-filled mouth. He assumed that the irony in his voice would be lost on the man, and he was right.
“Well, yeah! Two years!” barked the man.
“Well, I certainly don’t have a wife to worry about!” David said, a little too loudly, and they laughed together forcedly, with a tinge of sadness. The interviewer’s eyes looked down at his laugh briefly, and David could tell that the man wasn’t married, but wished he was.
“How long have you been with the company?” David asked.
“About a year now,” said the man, chastened, “It’s a great company to work for, and you see a lot of places. I was in Peru last year, and I also got to do a stopover in Russia. Usually they have me just doing the business end though, this is the first time I’ll actually be able to go with you guys.”
“Who else is on the… expedition?” asked David, hoping that was the proper word for whatever it was they were doing.
“Uh, Gus Ferraro, Angela Reynolds, and a couple of Chinese guys I haven’t met yet,” the man responded. “They’re already over there, getting things ready. Oh, I’m so happy that you’re game for this. I was worried that you wouldn’t be able to do it. Ever since we started the Great Wall Project, it’s been nothing but snags and snafus. And look, you’ve eaten all of your sushis!”
David looked down at his now empty plate. He hadn’t realized that, in the excitement of trying to extend the lie as long as possible, he had eaten the entire loathed dish, washing it down with Tiger beer.
“Well, buddy,” said the man, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Did you have any other questions for me?”
“What is your name?” is what David wanted to say. “Where are you from? What job is this?” Instead he said, “Where should I meet you?”
“Here’s my card,” said the man, whipping out a yellow business card with a cartoon bee on it. “Just call me in the morning at six o’clock, and we’ll get a limo to come ‘round to your place and pick you up, take you to the airport. I gotta run, but this has been great, see ya buddy!” and he pushed open the glass doors of the sushi place and ran towards a waiting limo. David looked down at the business card. It said “Reggie Miller” in funky letters, and below, in smaller letters, “Big Bee Enterprises”, and a phone number. David turned the card over, but there was nothing on the back indicating what the company’s purpose might be.
on SUSHI
February 17th
I am starting to feel a little tapped out. This project is hard!
On SUSHI
David looked at his plate of sushi in horror. There were 27 pieces of sushi on his plate, and if he was going to ace this interview, he was going to have to eat all of them.
“I just love sushi, don’t you?” asked his interviewer. David put on a smile that he hoped looked authentic. His interviewer was tall and thin, balding with tufts of hair on either side of his head. His eyes were close together and translucent blue, and his lips were floppy.
“Sometimes, I get some sushi on my way home, and eat it in front of the TV. It just hits the spot, you know?” smiled the man. David could tell that this is the sort of person who didn’t understand why different people had different tastes. And David and the interviewer had very different tastes.
When the man had called his house, earlier that day, he had explained to David that he just finished listening to the Dixie Chicks. David thought he would just let that go, but the interviewer asked him directly what he thought of the Dixie chicks. David was honest.
“I don’t… really… like them,” he excreted.
“Why not?” asked the man, in a voice that was barking and nasal. “They’re fantastic! And they’re big against censorship! Did you hear that song, Not Ready To Make Nice?”
“Yup,” David replied.
“That song almost singlehandedly brought down the Bush administration!” claimed the man.
David wanted to say, “I don’t think that’s true,” but he refrained. He had a feeling that this man encountered a lot of people biting their tongues.
David wished he wasn’t this desperate to get a job. He already knew this wouldn’t be a good job. David had seen this ad in the newspaper in the careers section, and was surprised to see something that he was qualified for, especially in these Turbulent Economic Times. David had graduated recently with a Masters in communication and a distaste for academia. He didn’t like how, the longer he remained in school, the more specific and irrelevant his studies became. He went home and moved in with his parents, who were nice people, but also a bit irrelevant. David hated how the word irrelevant came to mind to describe everything that he was thinking of. He was a bit lost as to what he thought was relevant in the first place.
“You better eat those up! I’ve got hungry chopsticks!” said the man, eyes bugging out, snaping his chopsticks together.
David stabbed a California roll and put it in his mouth, and mushed it against the top of his mouth. “Thanks for lunch,” he said, trying to move the roll to the side of his mouth with his tongue.
“Ah, don’t worry about it,” smiled the man, “I don’t think I’m supposed to say this in an interview, but I think you’re in! I can just tell.”
David became suspicious. He had done nothing to indicate any aptitude for any kind of job.
“What does the job entail exactly?” he asked.
I am starting to feel a little tapped out. This project is hard!
On SUSHI
David looked at his plate of sushi in horror. There were 27 pieces of sushi on his plate, and if he was going to ace this interview, he was going to have to eat all of them.
“I just love sushi, don’t you?” asked his interviewer. David put on a smile that he hoped looked authentic. His interviewer was tall and thin, balding with tufts of hair on either side of his head. His eyes were close together and translucent blue, and his lips were floppy.
“Sometimes, I get some sushi on my way home, and eat it in front of the TV. It just hits the spot, you know?” smiled the man. David could tell that this is the sort of person who didn’t understand why different people had different tastes. And David and the interviewer had very different tastes.
When the man had called his house, earlier that day, he had explained to David that he just finished listening to the Dixie Chicks. David thought he would just let that go, but the interviewer asked him directly what he thought of the Dixie chicks. David was honest.
“I don’t… really… like them,” he excreted.
“Why not?” asked the man, in a voice that was barking and nasal. “They’re fantastic! And they’re big against censorship! Did you hear that song, Not Ready To Make Nice?”
“Yup,” David replied.
“That song almost singlehandedly brought down the Bush administration!” claimed the man.
David wanted to say, “I don’t think that’s true,” but he refrained. He had a feeling that this man encountered a lot of people biting their tongues.
David wished he wasn’t this desperate to get a job. He already knew this wouldn’t be a good job. David had seen this ad in the newspaper in the careers section, and was surprised to see something that he was qualified for, especially in these Turbulent Economic Times. David had graduated recently with a Masters in communication and a distaste for academia. He didn’t like how, the longer he remained in school, the more specific and irrelevant his studies became. He went home and moved in with his parents, who were nice people, but also a bit irrelevant. David hated how the word irrelevant came to mind to describe everything that he was thinking of. He was a bit lost as to what he thought was relevant in the first place.
“You better eat those up! I’ve got hungry chopsticks!” said the man, eyes bugging out, snaping his chopsticks together.
David stabbed a California roll and put it in his mouth, and mushed it against the top of his mouth. “Thanks for lunch,” he said, trying to move the roll to the side of his mouth with his tongue.
“Ah, don’t worry about it,” smiled the man, “I don’t think I’m supposed to say this in an interview, but I think you’re in! I can just tell.”
David became suspicious. He had done nothing to indicate any aptitude for any kind of job.
“What does the job entail exactly?” he asked.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
