LETTER FROM THE ROAD, 1998

i missed the ferry going to alaska last week so i'm gonna take the
ferry there tomorrow. which means that i'm going to be giving my
thanks this coming 24th in sunny ketchikan, alaska. should be more
interesting than any other thanksgiving i've ever had. in the days
since i missed my ferry, i met this strange woman in vancouver. i'll
just tell you a few of the details :

i met a guy from malaysia in a vancouver bar last wednesday night.
his name was speck. after several rounds, we both agreed that in
order to "grab an asshole" (his words for getting some), i had to
have some sort of distinguishing characteristic. he suggested that i
play up my being a texan. "the girls will come," he said. ok.

we stumbled outside, guessing our way back to the hostel. to pick up
my cowboy hat. i had become convinced that the only thing keeping me
from "an asshole" was my $6 flea-market acquisition.

we wandered around. we were both very drunk. needless to say, we
were completely lost within a block of the bar.

after 10 minutes of walking in the rain, i stopped a large female
pedestrian to ask her for directions to our hostel. she offered us a
ride. we took it.

"i'm alexis from greece. greece is a small country but we have big
hearts."

she continued talking about her greek heritage. i'm not sure why. i
started talking about how ancient greek men went to war without
clothing. this interested her. we proceeded to her van, a mangled
mess of missing fenders, spare tires, and party favors. turns out
that this woman ran a business called balloon action. she handed me
her business card, which said, "We deliver anything for any occasion!
Balloon assortments, strip-o-grams, singing telegrams, gorillas,
clowns, and belly dancing!"

interesting situation. but it got better.

she invited me and speck to a black tie affair the next night.

turns out that this "black-tie affair" was the smirnoff ultimate
martini challenge. the canadian national championship for martini
making.

it quite a scene. i sat at the bar and ate patee, liver, skewered
chicken, avocado-ginger wraps, and caviar, drinking martinis and
champagne brought to me by waiters in starched-stiff tuxedoes. i sat
next to a dirty old man dressed in black plastic pants. he gave me
pointers on how to pick up women. "always sit next to the women's
bathroom." "never make your move until after midnight." i was
amazed by this man. as each woman walked into the restroom, he
would tell me, without hesitation, the woman's marital status, sexual
orientation, and drink preference. "i've been doing this for a long
time," he said between puffs of his cigar.

ok. to make a very long story short, i hung out with this woman for
several days, met her father, went with her to an international
ballroom dancing competition (another interesting story). i went
with her to the barber shop and took two rolls of film. i also met a
man in vancounver who referred to himself as "the lord of falafel."
he offered me a job delivering drugs. he said it would pay $10,000 a
mon