Job Discussion Forums

[Lucy Snow]

We were at a party here in Budapest, and this British guy we were talking to started complaining about B'pest's public transportation system. (Which, BTW, is quite good.) His main complaint? It's too cheap. All of these poor, smelly people just ride the trolleys all day long when the weather's bad. "If the government raised the ticket prices, that wouldn't happen."

This guy lived in one of the nicest areas of the city--where homes rent for about $5,000 USD/month. I'm sure he never took a trolley in this city. We were dumbfounded--and got away from him as soon as we could.

[johnslat]

" Seriously, my laptop was stolen out of my house one day while I was at work"
Ah, Ben, Ben - didn't you read the manual? You're supposed to always keep it in your lap. That way it won't get pinched. ( though it does make it kind of hard to perfrom certain functions ).
Regards,
John

[R]

I made a similar mistake. I thought it meant that you were supposed to have a lap on top of the computer so I sat on it. It wouldn't have been so bad but it was open at the time. Fortunately I understood my mistake before purchasing my desktop (a lovely G4 Cube, I should point out for no reason).

[biffinbridge]

Where can one find laptop dancers?

[johnslat]

Dear biffibridge,
" Where can one find laptop dancers? "
Are those plug-ins that make your Microsoft hard?
Regards,
John

[manc47]

I was out sightseeing one night when I got lost and found myself walking down a dimly-lit street. As I was walking past an empty storefront I saw two youths talking quietly and smoking cigarettes. It was so dark, all I could see were the glowing tips of their cigarettes. I was a stranger in this town and uncertain of my bearings and not sure what to do next or where to go. I moved as quickly as I could, without being too obvious about it, all of the while keeping my eye out for a taxi and occasionally glancing over my shoulder. I could feel the two youths getting closer and when I looked back, one of them said "stop, we want to talk to you". I crossed the road and began walking in the other direction. Sure enough, the two youths crossed the road and took up a position directly behind me. "Stop, I want to ask you something" said one of the youths. They were quite literally breathing down my neck. A few moments later a car approached and the driver, who obviously knew them, rolled down a window and called them over. That momentary distraction was all I needed. I ran away as fast as my legs would carry me. I ran with all of the abandon of a scared deer. The two youths gave chase but I didn't look back and didn't stop running until I'd reached safety - the lobby of a small hotel. I was pretty shaken by the experience.

I've since lived in Asia, the Middle-East and Europe and I've travelled in more than 20 countries. I may have just been lucky but that was the only truly scary experience I've ever had. Oh, I forgot to mention, this incident took place a few blocks from the St Francis Hotel in San Francisco.

[johnyarrington]

Ah, it ain't much, but it was kinda scary.

For some reason.

I was walking down a street, not far from the centre of town in Ho Chi Minh City, during a rainy weekend night, about 10 P.M. I had just dropped off my fiance at her apartment. Everybody must have seen this, because out of nowhere, this "Honda Om" driver (a guy in a beat-up motorbike who takes you practically anywhere in the city for about a quarter-US-) drives by very, very slowly, and stares at me.

I knew something was up, so I walked out in the middle of the street. A "lady of the evening" suddenly appears in front of me (I still don't know how this happened, since I was IN THE MIDDLE of the street), and says something to the effect of, "Hi honey, looking for a good time?" I walked REALLY FAST, down the middle to the street, dodging traffic, yelling for help, changing directions abrubtly. Suddenly, she somehow manages to get next to me, and grabs HARD!! one hand on my.......private parts, and the other in my back pocket for my wallet. Luckily, I was carrying a clip-board at the time, and my body position was such that I WACKED HER on the side of the head, with the edge of the clipboard, the hard, Masonite kind.

She just stared at me.

She was bleeding on the face, but was apparently so stunned, that she froze. I went walking into the night, and it became clear to me that many many people had seen everything, but from the shadows where I couldn't see them. I finally relied on another Honda Om driver's kindness to take me back to my hotel.

My now-wife and I now own that apartment, and when we go back to Vietnam to check on it, the whole neighborhood talks about that night.

I've never had any more trouble.

But Vietnam can be a dangerous place.

P.S. I didn't lose my wallet. Or anything else.

[manc47]

I've had someone fire a gun at me. I survived a typhoon that left 1,000 dead people in its wake. I've witnessed three or four earthquakes. I've sailed across the South China sea and almost lost my life. I've been interrogated and watched a policeman batter a man senseless with a telephone book. I've been threatened with a broken bottle.

and yet just thinking about that night in San Francisco make me hyperventilate.

[Sherri]

I was on the Trans-Siberian crossing the Russian/Mongolian border. Through my own fault I had allowed my Russian visa to expire (just 1 day!) at the time of crossing. I didn't realize what a hassle it would all be. The guards made me get off the train and come into their office at the station. I tried to explain what had happened in very rusty A level Russian, which rapidly got me in deeper and deeper trouble so I switched tactics and asked for an interpreter. We waited and waited, finally an interpreter appeared and we reached an understanding and I paid a fine. During this time my travel companions got off the train to see if they could help me. When we got back to our compartment we found that we had been robbed. Not everything--just a few things that were in reach (we later found big, long metal hooks outside the window of the train)

The immigration officials returned to our compartment and we reported the theft. They were not too concerned until they found out that one of the bags taken contained my currency exchange receipts--something that was needed to complete their paperwork. They asked us to wait and we waited, the whole train waited, for another 15-20 minutes or so. They miraculously returned with the exchange receipts still in the clear plastic file I had put them in (but not the bag they were in or the other things that were stolen). They refused to tell us how they "found" the receipts or where they were when they found them. At least the ordeal was over. The interpreter told me that some people end up being detained for several days when their visas expired so I should count myself lucky!

[Seth]

Baudin, Haiti, where I did a voluntary stint for 3 months. It's a little village on the highest mountain in the country, so needless to say there was no development, not even roads.
One day the priest I was living with needed to see his bishop, so myself and the other volunteers went with him to a town on the southern coast called Jacmel where the bishop lived. The priest had a very nice Toyota jeep that he used to govern his area, and it was pretty much the only vehicle in this district of Haiti. So you can imagine that it's a very valuable asset, and highly sought after by thieves. He kept a small handgun in the glove compartment for protection.
For a little background info; Under the Duvalier dictatorship there were roving bands of thugs called the 'ton-ton macoutes,' bogie men of Haitian folklore used to terrorize and suppress dissent. After a string of coups that led up to the 1994 invasion of Haiti by Clinton, these men, plus the entire military, were dismissed by Aristide. So basically you have ex-soldiers roaming free around the countryside, and they aren't friendly.

As we were winding down the mountain paths toward Jacmel, the priest sees a man on a little motorcycle not far behind us. He mentions something about how a lot of the ex-military guys ride motorcycles. He tells the two women with us to duck down and takes the pistol out of the glove compartment. The man followed us for about 30 minutes. Suddenly the man speeds up until he's almost beside us and tried to look inside the jeep, as the back windows were tinted. The priest took this opportunity to point his pistol at the man and shouted something in Creole. The man promptly veered off onto another road.