Happy Fries

It's a universal thing. Staring is.

You drive up to a car in front at 90 kilometers per hour on a highway, and the bloke just suddenly slows down to a 60, forcing you to jam a little on the brakes.

And when you finally get a chance to swerve out to the right to overtake the car, you turn your head over to your left - and stare at the bloke, before stepping on the gas pedal.

I know. I got such stares before while driving in Portland.

And my cab driver did just that today.


I'm in Bangkok now, by the way - after a whirlwind visit to Manila.

And all the zooming around is making me worn out. And a little lonely.

I think I'm going to get more exhausted after my one-week stay here.


I thought I could stay 'clean' and save some money this week.

I just did a foot massage, topped off with a good ol' pint of Heine.

I can almost foresee what's coming up the next few nights.


I love the Ascott.

I love this bed.

*****

I'm not sure about you, but I have this thing I call 'happy fries' that I turn to when I'm blue.

And they are everywhere - just look for the fast-food joint with that big yellow 'M'.

French fries to most, happy fries to me.

They make me happy, especially when they are brown, crisp and piping hot.


The thing about having happy fries in your life is that when they don't turn out the way they're supposed to be, or rather the way you're hoping them to be, they make you upset instead.

Which would be really bad. Like it was for me yesterday.

It always is, when the thing you look most forward to to make you happy fails you instead.

Life sucks. Especially when the fries suck.