Getting Directions

Had to go pay my power bill. Didn’t know where the power company offices were located, so I asked the girl at the convenience store. She seemed to indicate that it was down the street, hang a right, couldn’t miss it. Admittedly, my Chinese sucks so I drew a simple map in order that she could confirm how many cross streets til the right turn. Yes…yes…two streets, turn right.
I followed her directions. No power company. Up and down the street, checking side streets. Finally stopped and asked a street vendor – showed him the bill so he would understand where I wanted to go. He laughed and told me I was on the wrong street, going the wrong way and needed to go back the other way, turn right…couldn’t miss it.
Followed his directions (as well as I could, anyway). No power company.
Asked another innocent bystander. She told me to follow her…she’d show me where the power company was located. Great, I thought. I followed. She took me to the post office. Now, in Taiwan, many transactions can be accomplished at the post office, so I went inside. I took a number. I waited. After my number was called I learned that you cannot pay your power bill at the post office. I was, however, given directions.
I went ALL OVER goddamn town, from one fucking end of it to the other, up and down this street and that, and took directions from at least six different people, NONE OF WHOM knew where the fucking power company was despite their claims to the contrary.
Eventually, frustrated in my efforts to pay the goddamn bill, I decided to get something to eat. Went into a Kentucky Fried Chicken – I just wanted an order of goddamn popcorn chicken and a few minutes of peace. No popcorn chicken…have to wait 30 minutes. I didn’t have 30 minutes, so I asked for two pieces of chicken (original recipe), a fries and a drink – we used to call that a Snack Pack. She told me I would have to wait 20 minutes for the original recipe chicken. What. The. Fuck?
IT’S K-F-FUCKING-C! You sell chicken, all day, every day! What in the lifting fucking Christ on skis do you mean I have to wait 20 minutes to get a couple of fucking drumsticks made the way Harlan Sanders built the fucking franchise? I just stood there for a moment…realized that jamming this poor waitress into the deep fryer wouldn’t get me to work on time…and then walked out.
Pay the power bill? I can’t even get a piece of fried fucking chicken in this town!

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14 Responses

  1. You asked for directions???

    Yeah, I think you just might be a lesbian trapped in a man’s body.

  2. Classic. Anyone who lives in Taiwan for very long will have days like this. I think the directions issue goes along with the dishonesty problem you discussed in a previous blog: rather than lose face by admitting they aren’t 100% sure where something is, they’ll send you off in one direction or another, confident that you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually. Seriously, Taiwanese people need to learn the value of the words “I don’t know.”

  3. Damn! Same exact thing happened to me, only it wasn’t the power copmany and KFC, but the VD clinic and hookers.

  4. copmany? I really do need a remedial typing class. Oh, well. That’s what I get for trying to be clever.

  5. I can just imagine sales clerks, street vendors and innocents bystanders slapping their thighs and doubled up in laughter with the entertainment that you provided.

    The KFuckingC story is pretty painful. Pretty harsh for someone to have gone through a “Where’s Waldo” search, then can’t get anything to eat at the end of it.

    Good luck with your power bill….

    • Ken, while I profoundly appreciate the depth and breadth of sarcasm and condescension, you’re so very much more than welcome to go fuck yourself. Good luck with all things that come due.

  6. Zirgar,

    In my pathetic Duckburg, the hookers are located on the same road as the Public Utilities Commission building under a km away. No directions needed.

    Cousinavi,

    I know they shortened their name a while back to KFC, so that people wouldn’t realize their chicken was fried. But I didn’t realize they had re-launched the full version of the name as Kentucky Fucking Chicken. What would Col. Sanders think about people fucking chickens in his establishment?

    And POPCORN CHICKEN??? What the motherfucking fuck is that? You stick chickens in the microwave and they explode like corn kernels?

    • Imagine you’re chopping up three or four tonnes of chicken. You gonna have some scraps.
      Most o’ them there scraps, they gits scraped up into the big bin…fer further processin’.
      But some o’ them scraps, they just lay about. Sittin’ there. Missed.
      So, you gather ’em up and take ’em upstairs to the restaurant.
      I dunno what they do with ’em, but one time I seen ’em toss the whole mess into this ugly puddin’ lookin’ thing…
      Anyways, anytime someone came in an’ ask fer Popcorn Chicken – sure that’s it – Popcorn Chicken…they’d get a shovel full of that fried crap. Some o’ them folks sweared by it.

      They’d give ya sauces and the whole git out.

      • I fucking slay me.

        But some o’ them scraps, they just lay about. Sittin’ there. Missed.
        So, you gather ‘em up and take ‘em upstairs to the restaurant.
        I dunno what they do with ‘em, but one time I seen ‘em toss the whole mess into this ugly puddin’ lookin’ thing…

        ugly puddin’ lookin thing.
        Comedy gold.

        That is some ugly pudding. What are you gonna do with it?
        I dunno. Throw stuff in it.

      • And you put that shit in your mouth?

        • Well…I was gonna wear it on my head, but it kept fallin’ off.
          I tried stuffin’ it down my pants, but it made by balls all greasy…well, more greasy.
          Wouldn’t fit in my shoes what with my feet in there.
          What the hell else was I s’posed to do, Cletus?

  7. Someone’s a little thin-skinned. AMF

  8. Imagine you’re chopping up three or four tonnes of chicken. You gonna have some scraps.
    Most o’ them there scraps, they gits scraped up into the big bin…fer further processin’.
    But some o’ them scraps, they just lay about. Sittin’ there. Missed.
    So, you gather ‘em up and take ‘em upstairs to the restaurant.
    I dunno what they do with ‘em, but one time I seen ‘em toss the whole mess into this ugly puddin’ lookin’ thing…
    Anyways, anytime someone came in an’ ask fer Popcorn Chicken – sure that’s it – Popcorn Chicken…they’d get a shovel full of that fried crap. Some o’ them folks sweared by it.

    Damn, you make it all sound so delightfully appetizing.

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