As fortnight’s go, this one feels exceptionally long, useful and delightful. Last Monday I had an interview for a language school and was offered the job after explaining why it ran a little short and what I would do in the event this happens in a class; always have a reason in your back pocket, it’s second in importance only to always bring a banana to a party. If possible, keep a bunch nearby at all times, but avoid consuming them too much or people will think you’re always evacuating shit.
Moving swiftly on, Tuesday I had orientation and Friday I had six hours worth of mandatory training. From a previous job, I was expecting a lot of mandatory training and thought I was prepared, but six hours of anything is a little much.
A weekend happened, a bunch of good stuff, I believe I have danced, drunk, and turned a tram carriage into the swingingest karaoke joint in the city – to a mix of scorn and mirth from the Czech audience.
Yesterday was different though: I had my first classes. They were a joy. I walked in the room to find attentive students looking to learn something I love, the English language in all it’s dirty combinations, peculiar auxiliaries, and multiple accents. The trick was to resist the urge to seem like either the smartest guy in the room, or a bit of a rubbish standup act about learning. I have noticed however that I can be a generous conversationalist and ask the right questions, and the language just flows.
That evening I went out for sangria. I also ended up locked out. The two events are related, in a spatio-temporal perspective of time, but I will draw no causal link between them. The more interesting bit is what followed.
Ext – Doorway – Night
A rockstar in a black coat is pushing a button on the intercom. After each push he holds up his hands and counts to ten.
Fraser (int) – Fuck, fuck, fuck, duck, funk, fix, please respond.
After one more attempt, Fraser leaves
Ext – Street – Night
Fraser is walking along the street, he lights a cigarette.
Ext – Mexican Restaurant – Night
He stops walking after passing the door. He sees the lights on but the chairs are on the tables and a small group of people are standing at the bar. He pauses, then tries to pull the door open. It is a push door.
Int – Mexican Restaurant
Fraser – Dobre den, are you guys open?
Barman – No, we closed.
Fraser – Fair enough, can I use your wifi a minute.
Barman – It’s off.
Fraser scans iPad, it is finding a wifi link.
Fraser – Fair enough.
Ext – Street Corner – Night
Fraser has been walking. He stops.
Fraser – Whatever is wrong, I will handle it.
Fraser walks into the middle distance.
And there is the beginning of a fabulous tale about friendship, brotherhood, a Norwegian with awesome cheekbones and an Italian with deep eyes, a Greek barman, and a discussion on the finer cliches of Taylor Swift.
Still, always best to leave the