Tuesday, October 30, 2012



When looking for something, I always play a game of "Twenty Questions".  It is different from the normal game in that it is the same question spread out over twenty people.  This is a frequently played game for people visiting foreign countries simply because half the people you ask have no idea and want to be helpful by lying.

Interviewing the older members of society who actually know where things are.  As they possess know knowledge of English but make expansive hand gestures which can be as difficult as interpretive dance to understand.

Eventually, I found myself at what I always think of as a 'manly barber shop'.

Since the 1980's these have not been seen within the USA.  Within them, you can get a straight razor shave while terminally nicotine addicted men lounge about.  These are extinct within the USA having been replaced by either 'fu fu' salons or chain barber shops with their revolving door staff.

In a fairly run down part of town was the barber shop, it's presence being marked by a highly stylized pair of scissors you could only see from the sidewalk in front of it though looking into the barred windows was easier.  After wandering around the building a bit, I discovered the only entrance was through a shop selling eyeglasses.

The sixty year old (he told me) barber was finishing up with his previous customer who sported a fair amount of blood on his neck.  Undeterred, I got a chair.

We spoke in a mixture of English, Georgian, German and sign language - the latter being the most useful.

Shave and a haircut, 10 GEL - half the price or less at a chain store in the USA with a lot more care and quality.

Sadly, the quality part didn't rub off on me, but the barber did the best he could with what he had to work with.

Since I only get a shave and a haircut once a month, my appearance is usually midway between 'basic trainee' and 'terrorist in training'.

Unexpectedly, I found myself back in the Elvis restaurant.  Certainly, I did take the subway there and walk to it but it was the siren call of hamburgers that brought me.

Because I am a perverse person, I instead had a very mediocre steak burger while being freaked out by the numerous statues and pictures of 'the King'.


The cabana boy story:  Once upon a time, Derek and I went up to Canada.  I don't remember which chapter.

We found some young guy and hired him to be our 'cabana boy'.

Any time we would call out "Oh cabana boy!"  He was to loudly and immediately sound off with "Yo ho ho sir!".

He did literally everything for us - fetching drinks for us, doing our dirty dishes, being ambushed by monsters if we thought there might be a trap.

If we saw him sneaking up on monsters, we would call "Oh cabana boy!" just for the hilarity that would ensue.

Note, for those that are reading this thinking "So you abused this poor low level newbie for the entire event, yes.  Yes we did.  But we did promise to pay him well.  We didn't.  We paid him obscenely well.  We may have left him the richest guy in his chapter.

I consider him a crunchy because he would die very quick.  I have a very broad view of 'crunchies' - they include low level players.


  1. Do you think the sign language portion of the discussion might explain why there is blood? ;)

  2. BTW, this should prove New Zealand has nothing to do with Hobbits... http://youtu.be/cBlRbrB_Gnc



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