Why I wear a whistle

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still don't know that i want to post this, especially considering that the last post was kind of negative.? oh what the hell, my camera won't connect so i am stuck with writing and this is a day in the life of clay!

some of the locals have asked why i am wearing a whistle. my standard reply has been to mimic climbing a rock, and then pretending a fall. that is followed by twisting my body like i broke my leg and neck. they laugh and say good (i am amazed they get it but it was confirmed).

today, however, i used it for a different reason. in the lovely setting ot tourist trap Nesebar, bulgaria, i went to change 50 US$ for a great rate, or so i thought. after i gave the 50, without confirming exchange rate-always always always confirm, the gal behind the window gave me a paper to sign for 60 Leva(bulgarian). this is at a rate of 1.2 (vs the 1.5 expected) which is an unacceptable loss of $10 US on the 50.

i said "no" and requested my 50 back. she says "no", which has never happened to me before. i demand my 50 back. she refused and laughed saying she might just keep it all. so, i step out the door and blow my whislte and shout POLIS! next thing i know, a muscle bound no neck is upon me. he grabs me by the shirt collar and the whistle cord. oh hell no, we are not having this. i grab him by the neck, big as it is, and then i punch him. it is close quarters but i still manage to draw blood. before i could follow up though, two others were upon me. no blows landed but the whistle was yanked off my neck. the cord ripped surprisingly and i am guessing because i often nick it whilst shaving-thank goodness as that could have been much more painful. or was that the adrenalin? back to the altercation.

after i bloodied her body guard, the 50 came flying at me. sadly though, i watched my whistle disappear into the booth's slot at the very same time i see roid-rage grabbing a 5' long steel pipe. damn.

it felt good that 40 pounds heavier didn't want to mess with me 1 to 1, mano a mano. i thought i had lost my edge but maybe not all is gone. though i still replayed it in my head for a couple of days. anyhow, i decided to leave and to look for the polis as to recover my before now virgin whistle. no polis was to be found and the islands security guards (jokes/parking lot guards) were not interested nor helpful.

so, i returned alone. i asked for whistle and roid-rage is back with his steel pipe. he then gave the BEOTCH in the window a quarter roll size pipe and i knew my whistle was doomed. she had one helluva time destroying it though which still makes me smile, as i hear her banging away. i was relieved also that the pocket sized weapon hadn't managed to connect with the side of my head.

since she destroyed my whistle i thought i'd cost her a few more dollars. i stood outside the office and turned 7 customers away. thus, i lost my whistle but she lost dollars (and by my count plenty of them), and roid-rage also lost too as i ripped his shirt a couple of times during the melee.

sorry! if i seem to be tooting mine own whistle, as the pun goes, but i reckon this to be a recording of my life.

moral: tourist traps don't like attention so if they do wrong bring the attention!!!!!


ps: christine, remember that restaurant outside of vatican city??

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