Time Zones Tutorial

I don’t know if this has ever happened to you. Did you ever live in a foreign country, and – god knows why – decide to travel east to west instead of north to south? Huh? No, I am not kidding! Heading southbound is great: warmer weather, friendlier people, etc.

But as I was saying, if you move east to west, a really strange thing happens: The time when the sun rises and sets, changes. This really happens. Because, and don’t get upset if you already know the answer, the Earth rotates! Yes, incredible! This means that if it’s morning in the US, it’s already afternoon in Europe, and that in Japan… it’s already tomorrow! This is how Santa Claus is able to give presents to children all over the world (with a twenty-four hour-long night!). Thus, time zones were born!

Thanks to time zones, people all across the globe will see 8:00 am when they check their watches in the morning and 6:00 pm (18:00) when they check them in the evening. Isn’t it great?

What did you say? You already know all of this? Then why the hell does everybody in Europe insist on calling me at four in the @#$%*&^% morning?? And when I say everybody, I mean not only telemarketers but even parents, friends, and old employers. Everybody! My priest back home even called me once wondering why he hadn’t seen me at church in 20 years.

I know what you are thinking: this will never happen to me. Well, trust me. It will happen even sooner than you could possibly imagine. So do the right thing. Teach your parents and friends about a fantastic new invention called Google. Just type a phrase in any language, and this “magic box” will teach you all about it. If they type “Time zones” for example, they will even be able to find simple charts that will clarify any “confusion” they might have. But just in case the charts aren’t straightforward enough, learn them yourself to be able to explain them to your loved ones.

Last but not least: Always turn your phone off before you go to sleep! Good night.

- Simone la Cuercha

A Carpet “Trip”

Well, you don’t know what we can find

Why don’t you come with me little girl

On a magic carpet ride?

-Steppenwolf

I almost bought a carpet the other day. I’m not really sure why. It’s not like I have room where I live. Maybe I’ve just seen Aladdin too many times. Anyways, I was wandering through town this past Saturday, when I passed by an “Oriental” street market, full of gaudy paper lanterns, tacky plastic teacups, and enough incense to make my eyes water and my throat itch. The kind of place that I usually try to avoid at all costs.

But some carpets caught my eye; I have always admired their intricate designs. An old Persian (or maybe Azerbaijani?) man asked me if I wanted to try one of them out. I nodded, not really understanding. Then he laid out this fabulous red carpet with golden intertwined branches and purple flowers, and he bid me sit.

So I did, closing my eyes and taking in the wafting smells of “frankincense” and “myrrh”. It actually seemed like the carpet was taking off, slowly at first but soon picking up a frightening pace. Suddenly, I was passing the Great Pyramids on my left, the Taj Mahal on my right, and more sand and camels than I had ever seen in my lifetime.

I landed in this small, bleached-white city surrounded by water. Some locals greeted me in English with a vaguely Arabic accent. One of them placed a beautifully embroidered blue turban on my head. They must have thought I was the Sultan or Pharaoh or something. They brought me out a giant couch. Then they started fanning and hand feeding me olives, catching the pits that I spit out.

They had just begun to lead me to my harem when I finally woke up. All of the vendors and their products were gone, as was the carpet on which I had been “traveling”. What’s more, when I checked my pockets, I couldn’t find my wallet or my cell phone.

I knew I should have gone to a yard sale.

- Carlos de la Gringa

Quack, Quack!

“Quack, quack!” I wake up, look down and there is a duck with her little ducklings swimming around my bed.

I know what you are thinking. “Simone, you have to stop this, we are tired of your stories about hallucinations. Seriously, dude, we don’t know what you’ve been smoking but you gotta stop. Go and tell them to some stranger in a pub or your favorite crack house, but stop pulling this shit with us and write something real.”

And you know what? “You’re right, I have to stop writing this stuff all the time. Because the good Lord – the Master of Extraordinary, that is – wants the next Diet Column. But I’m sorry, I just can’t today. I need to talk about yet another incredible morning.

So, there are ducklings in my bedroom. I put my feet on the floor, and it’s wet. Is this a hallucination? It’s real water! Then I go to the bathroom. I look outside. Apparently my house is surrounded by what an English speaker would call a lake… My garden is an ocean and the tree in my backyard is a giant tropical plant. I go to the front door and open it, still in my flip-flops and pajamas. “Fuck…”

There are cars stuck on the street. Water is everywhere. There is no chance of survival. People run through the water and break into abandoned houses to rob the few things that the flood spared. Police cars try to patrol, but they are all stuck in the mud. It’s total anarchy! And then there are all these blondes dressed up to go jogging in the water with iPods attached to their arms as if nothing had happened.

And maybe I’m exaggerating a bit. And I am kinda pissed off. Why, you might ask? Because when I woke up, all of my stuff was ruined; apparently, people here have never heard of a little thing called rain. And since they didn’t build the houses the right way sooner or later there was bound to be a flood. But this isn’t a third world country I’m writing about or some nation plagued by the monsoons. I am writing from upstate New York!!! But it could be worse, at least it’s not Alabama…

- Simone la Cuercha

Roulette Table

My father would kill me if he saw me right now. And my mother would cry. She had two cousins that ruined themselves with this. One of them was also called Simone. It’s nice to know that I wasn’t named after him. He died of heroine. Or was it a car accident? Or maybe both… I don’t remember. The other one apparently lost his entire fortune at the casino. It only took a few months for him to accumulate a huge debt with the local loan sharks. One day he simply vanished. Probably he ran off to Brazil or another one of those gorgeous countries in South America. My mother loved that cousin. She knows what gambling leads to.

And yet here I am, my first time at a roulette table. So I take it easy; I lay my cigarettes next to the ash tray, and I point to the 10 on rouge. I win. A black guy, that looks like he spent at least twenty years of his life inside casinos, asks me, “Hey dude, may I have a cigarette?” I am glad to offer a cigarette to a fellow player. After all I am winning. So I play again, twenty bucks on 2^nd 12s. I win again. A young guy, who appears to be about eighteen and looks like he has smoked pot since he was twelve, asks me for a cigarette. I am winning, “Of course, here you are.”

“Where are you from?” “I am from Italia.”

“Oh Italy! Italy is wonderful, I always wanted to go and visit Madrid…” I hesitate for a second. This is one of those things that pisses me off about the US. Not only are people under twenty one not allowed to legally drink, but they are allowed to enter into this temple of sin and perdition! How the hell could you think that Madrid is in Italy!?!?!

“Yes, I love Madrid, I go there once month if I can.”

“Yeah, I bet you do, bro!”

“But if you ever go to Europe, I suggest you go to Berlin, France. It’s gorgeous. And my brother told me that Rome in Austria is wonderful!”

“Thank you bro, I really appreciate it.” There is no need for me to say that I lost all of my money that evening.

- Simone la Cuercha