Odd Man Out

On the plane ride from New York to Hong Kong I met this very interesting American executive living and working in Hong Kong. Let’s call him “Scott”. We spent hours talking and during the course of our conversation he told me about his family, his job, and his hopes for the future.

He told me about how he met and fell in love with his wife. He went on a double date not expecting to like her at all, but found in her what he had never seen in any other human being. It’s amazing the way love is more revelation than actual discovery. I believe we all know exactly what we’re looking for, how else would we recognize it when we find (or are shown) it. He fell in love almost immediately and after a whirlwind romance they were married within a year—their love and respect for one another has lasted for almost 20 years now.

When he asked me why I wasn’t in married, I told him about the difficulty of finding the “right person” in a place like Los Angeles. I was pleased when he didn’t let me get away with that dismissive statement. He told me he was surprised that I was still single because of my appearance, my career, and my personality (his words not mine, I swear). I told him I was too.

I’m like all humans. I’m looking for that “one”. I’m not too cynical yet to believe that the “one” doesn’t exist, but I have to admit I’m getting tired of looking. Sometimes it’s tempting to just give up, but then I meet people like Scott, and I realize that I want what they have. It isn’t perfect. They have good and bad days, but as he sat there and told me about his family and how his children experienced cultures as fascinating and varied as Argentinean, Chinese, British, Mongolian, Swiss, and Korean, I was moved and re-inspired.

We arrived in Hong Kong late in the evening (around 10 pm). . .

Now, I’m no expert on airport security, but I have to say that the government in Hong Kong takes security very seriously. As we approached immigration, there was a thermal camera that airport security was using to detect that random poor bastard with the flu. (Yeah, they remember SARS, or was it SIDS, I’m not sure, it’s the one that made everyone in East Asia wear surgical masks, which incidentally a lot of people there still do). It was kind of cool though, I stopped and stared at my thermal image for a while. I imagined the scene from Predator (the one with Arnold) and got a few odd stares and laughs from my fellow arrivees.

“Yeah keep staring buddy, and we’ll see how warm blood shows up on these cameras here. . .” I thought. There are two guns airport security never catches and their called my left and right arms—locked and loaded baby.

(Sorry about that, it’s been a late day, and sometimes my mind wanders in uncontrollable ways—it’s like a bull elephant in heat. . . visualize ladies. You like?? LOL. See. . . that’s what I’m talking about. But I digress).

From the thermal camera, “Predator Cam” as I just renamed it, I went and stood in the line for immigration. Immediately I was struck by the big ass camera that kept scanning the crowd. So, being me, I tried to do suspicious things as the camera would pass over me. For example I would look at it and then look away quickly hiding my phone in my pocket, or I would pretend like I was trying to cover my face by putting my head down. What can I say, I crave attention from potentially dangerous international law enforcement.

Contrary to my hopes, I passed through immigration without much incident. I was then assaulted by the “drivers” offering me “cheap” rides into the city. Now for those of you who don’t travel much (I’m talking about anywhere, not just Hong Kong) pay careful attention. YOU MUST NEVER EVER ACCEPT A RIDE FROM THE ASSHOLES IN THE AIRPORT. GO OUTSIDE WHERE THE TAXIS ARE.

I did not really pay attention to my own advice, and I was quickly spotted by a sharp eyed “dumb-ass hunter” named (and I will never believe this is his real name) Jeff. The guy was full Chinese. I love the Chinese, and no offense, but Jeff is not a “big” name in China. Hu, yes, Mao, maybe, Xiang, possibly, but Jeff. . . What the hell!

Anyway, my “driver” “Jeff” (I use the quotes to indicate suspicion or sarcasm, in case you were “wondering”) told me to follow him out to his “taxi”. His taxi turned out to be an unmarked minivan. I’m already a bit concerned about this whole “relationship” Jeff and I have developed. I’m a bit skeptical of his motives being that he’s probably not given me his real name, add that to the unmarked Toyota he wants me and my fat ass bags to get into, and it’s looking like a spurious situation.

My “Spidey Senses” are buzzing like crazy and I decide I’m going to forgo the years of working in some opium den as a slave and elected to tell Jeff to piss off. Now our friend probably only wanted to charge me double for the ride into the city, but the fact that he followed me and told all the cabs to charge me extra and that he would split the fare with them makes me think that Jeff was not much of a friend after all. Luckily I found a taxi driver who told Jeff to kiss his ass.

After about an hour we arrived at my hotel in Kowloon.




I was exhausted. My room had two things that I wanted more than anything else in the world: a hot shower, and a cool bed. I collapsed on the bed and fell into a light coma. . . The next day I would meet Hong Kong and her inhabitants for the first time.

posted by RezB @ 7:31 PM