Yesterday, I spent the whole day in town attempting to track down a missing courier package. It was another little island adventure. Needless to say, along the way, I stopped into my favorite Port of Call for a cold one.
I ran in somebody I know. ‘Buy you a beer?’ I asked.
‘Please’ he replied, ‘I need to drown my sorrows.’
‘Doesn’t work’ said I, ‘they keep floating up.’
‘I’m going through hell’, he moans.
‘Keep going’, I reply.
‘Huh?’ he’s puzzled by my response.
‘Don’t stop now’ I explain, sipping my Kubuli.
‘What?’ he wonders what the hell I am talking about.
‘If you are going through hell, for god’s sake, don’t stop or you’ll be stuck in the fire.
Just keep on keepin on. You’ll get through it. Stop and the heat gets more intense.’
‘I guess you’re right,’ he says after a moment, ‘thanks.’
‘No, thank you,’ I reply, ‘you’ve just given me the idea for my article.’
We chatted a few minutes more while we finished our cold ones and I went off on my quest for the missing package. I never did find it. It was discovered later to have been shipped to the Dominican Republic. Another example of a geographically ignorant person employed in the wrong job/place. Reminds me of the time that a travel agent booked me a flight to Provo, Utah instead of Providenciales, Turks & Caicos.
What’s missing in my courier package? My birth certificate. I need to prove I was born and where. What’s funny is the person who will check the proof of where I came into this world will likely not have a clue where it is.
Some days it seems like nobody knows where they are, where anyplace else is and where they are going. Must be time for another beer. My buddy was right…it’s hell out there.