Stupid Foreigners...

Those who know me know that you’d be very hard pressed to find someone more scatter brained than myself. I do fun things such as lose my wallet on an annual basis, drive over my iPod, go to the gym without a t-shirt, shoes or shorts, forget my knapsack on the city bus, or when I’m REALLY on, I leave a weeks worth of luggage on the greyhound…24 hours prior to taking off for Mexico.

The following story should come as no shock to any of you.

So I’m doing laundry tonight. It’s midnight, and while waiting for my clothes to finish drying I decide it’s the perfect time to see the sights of Kaohsiung. I’m driving down a main street here and my scooter starts to feel funny, so I stop and try to start it again. Nothing. So I try again. Nothing. I try to kick start it, only to realize I don’t really know what this means or what it is I’m supposed to kick. 2 jumps onto some random part of my scooter (which is definitely NOT supposed to be kicked), and one small oil spill later, I am unintentionally sitting on the pavement. I do the most logical thing, which is to get out my cell phone and call Steph or anyone else who can come and pick me up. But oh wait, that’s right. I don’t have minutes on my phone because I went to go buy some more only to realize I’d left my wallet on my bed. Perfect.

I’m starting to get a little worried at this point; it’s 12:30, it’s dark, and there are plenty of creepers driving past me and slowing down, but they’re far too busy staring at the white girl to concern themselves with helping her. Finally 2 girls turn around. They aid in the fruitless attempts at kick-starting my scooter. Once they give up I resign myself to walking my scooter up the road to the nearest scooter shop where I can leave it until tomorrow. The entire scooter-push up the road I’m swearing like a sailor and regretting buying a scooter so cheap. I never consider that maybe, just MAYBE this is my fault, not my scooter’s…and then I see a gas station and it dawns on me that wow, I don’t remember the last time I got gas. Oh wait, yes I do. It was that day 2 weeks ago when I locked my keys inside my scooter seat at the gas station…and oh shit, this is the same gas station, and oh shit again, it’s the same gas attendant that had to pry my seat open with his screw driver and yep, oh shit again, I can tell by jackass smirk on his face as he watches me wheel my gasless scooter towards him that he definitely remembers me.

I will never go back there.