My Observer Column Archive

If you’re reading this, you’ve probably been following my columns all along; but if you haven’t, or you are bored, here are the links to all of the columns I wrote for The Observer in one nice neat place (along with descriptions!):

Spring 2008

Our unappreciated democracy

Friday, January 18^th, 2008

In my first column, I discussed the death of the Pakistani politician Benazir Bhutto and somehow made this connect to my winter break trip to the Iowa caucuses.  If you’re wondering how that worked; it didn’t.  The column is boring, clunky, and is mostly spent on me trying to brag about driving to Iowa for winter break.  But hey, I guess I had to start somewhere.

A tribute to our tainted water supply

Friday, February 15^th, 2008

In my second column I discuss the drinking fountains in The Rock, and start to show some signs of a discernable style.  This column is not only about student life at Notre Dame, but it also features some random asides and movie references.  The biggest problem, I guess, is that the movie reference makes romantic comedies sound awful.  So close to Valentine’s Day I should have been praising rom-coms, like I did the next two years.  What was I thinking?

Bandwagon fan's guide to Irish basketball

Friday, February 29^th, 2008

This was the first column I ever wrote that talked about Mike Brey and the basketball team.  At the time I wrote it, the team hadn’t lost a home game in a couple years and I was very high on them (part of my Love/Hate relationship with the basketball team).  I really wanted my phrases “J-Mac” and the “Three Headed Monster” to catch on, unfortunately they didn’t.

Celebrity influence ineffective

Wednesday, March 26^th, 2008

I’m embarrassed by this column.  This is far and away the worst column I ever wrote because all I did was take an issue in the news, summarize the issue, and add absolutely no insight of my own.  Oh yea, and it is incredibly boring to read.  On the bright side, this column helped to teach me that if you don’t have a decent title, you can’t possibly have a good column. 

Fall 2008

My very first drink

Friday, August 29^th, 2008

After a pedestrian first semester writing, I spent the summer living by myself in South Bend figuring out how to cook my own meals, how much beer was acceptable to drink alone before going to bed, and how to get the fastest turnaround on Netflix (drop the movies off at the post office).  Somehow this helped prepare me to write better columns in the fall, and this was the beginning of that.  In it I talk about lowering the drinking age and my own experiences learning how to drink.  Its ND culture meets issue advocacy (but unfortunately there are no pop culture references).

A class by class guide to a Notre Dame football weekend

Friday, September 5^th, 2008

In what was definitely a precursor to Things Notre Dame Students Like, this column used broad generalizations to describe a typical football weekend for Notre Dame Students.  While the previous column talked about my own experience, this was my first real foray into Notre Dame Culture.

The doctor is in

Friday, September 12^th, 2008

This is my ode to Lou Holtz and a column about why Notre Dame Students like him.  A definite precursor to Things ND Students Like (see #23), this column also used one of my favorite tactics of dropping quotes between paragraphs (although it looks a lot better as a word document)

Why not serious?

Friday, September 26^th, 2008

The first in my “concerned citizen” series this column was when I really started to get the hang of things and make some nice issue advocacy arguments.  In it I discuss off-campus safety and try to convince somebody, anybody, to do more to make the neighborhood safe for students.  This column led to my meeting with Bill Kirk about the issue, which didn’t go well.

Story time on ND Nation

Friday, October 3^rd, 2008

In this second “concerned citizen” column, I attempted to bring to the Observer some concerns that people had with game day practices at the University.  I spent most of that week reading message boards on ND Nation, and decided that since I couldn’t actually confirm any of the stories I read, I would have to address that within the column, which is why it is about believing the stories and not the stories themselves.

Where's your stipend?

Friday, October 10^th, 2008

Probably one of my favorite columns, this was also my first foray into ‘political satire’ as I criticized the Saint Mary’s Executive Board for spending money on themselves.  The executive board denied this was true, the ND Student Gov. people tried to tell me otherwise, and an actual reporter for the Observer ended up winning an award for reporting on the issue after I got people talking about it.

Fearful symmetry

Friday, October 31^st, 208

I’m not sure if this could be considered another foray into political satire, but in this column I used the theme of fear (for Halloween) to talk about how both McCain and Obama would raise the national debt, and how this was bad for our country’s future.  It’s kind of interesting though because I also talk about Back to the Future, flying cars, John Connor, Garden State, Lost, and Saw.

Forde ounces to freedom

Friday, November 14^th, 2008

In the first column where I really experimented with format, the entire point of this column was to try to mimic the writing style of ESPN.com’s Pat Forde.  If you don’t read Forde, you would be utterly confused; which is why a couple months later I found out that while the sportswriters at The Observer loved this column, everybody else hated it.

Do you feel lucky?

Friday, December 5^th, 2008

Shockingly it took me until after the football season to write a column that was actually about the football season.  In this column I take a look back at four years with Charlie Weis, and ask Athletic Director Swarbrick if he feels lucky enough to bring back Coach Weis for another season.  As we now know, his decision did not turn out well.

The greatest gift of all

Wednesday, December 10^th, 2008

This was when I really started to mess with form, and flirt with the lines of what should be allowed in a newspaper by writing a Notre Dame Christmas poem that is to the rhyme scheme of Twas the Night Before Christmas.  It was also my second (and final) column to run on a day other than Friday, because it ran in the last paper of the semester.

Spring 2009

Bowling for Obama

Friday, January 16^th, 2009

To begin the spring semester I questioned President-elect Obama’s ability to understand the sport of college football because he never went to a school with a major college football program.  In doing this I broke down my continuing opinion AGAINST a college football playoff and told my story about wearing a Notre Dame Jersey to midnight mass on Christmas Eve.

Joe Biden: First Goofball

Friday, January 23^rd, 2009

A return to political satire in which I describe the role and importance of the VP not as a second-in-command, but as a First Goofball; this is probably my favorite column that has nothing to do with Notre Dame.  With examples from across the political spectrum and throughout history, I modeled my argument after a political science paper, even though it was about a topic so ridiculous.

We are...

Friday, January 30^th, 2009

I take aim against the usage of the “We Are ND” chant at the end of sporting losses, and describe why I hate the cheer so much.  This column was also notable as being my first one that incited a full-fledged letter to the editor to be published in the following weeks Observer.

The taste of disappointment

Friday, February 6^th, 2009

I discuss my shock and disappointment about finding out that South Bend no longer had a Denny’s where I could go to get my free Grand Slam Breakfast following the Super Bowl.  I continue to describe the differences between McDonald’s Deluxe Big Breakfast and Denny’s Grand Slam, and even throw in a handful of ND sports jokes for good measure.

True love at Club Fever

Friday, February 13^th, 2009

One of my personal favorites, in this column I reference every romantic comedy I can think of by discussing my fruitless quest to find true love on the dance floors of Club Fever.  If I had to guess, I’d say this was the column of mine that people enjoyed the most.  Ironically, soon after I wrote this column, I became annoyed with Club Fever and only went there one more time.

If you give a columnist a Keystone ...

Friday, February 27^th, 2009   

Another exercise in form, this column was a parody of the classic children’s book If You Give a Mouse a Cookie that was inspired by my trip to read books to my friend Katie’s class of second graders.  I liked it for what it was, but I think I definitely could have done a better job with the parody.  It does follow in my tradition of discussing Keystone Light at length though.

A guide to overcoming the random hook-up

Friday, March 20^th, 2009

I describe the ways that students can overcome random hook-ups by using the five stages of grief and what students should do during each stage.  Equal parts parody and “concerned citizenism” this was one of my weaker columns of that spring, but it did incite another published letter to the editor.

Maybe when I'm 30 ...

Friday, April 3^rd, 2009

What started as a discussion of an April Fool’s joke, and my loathing of websites such as eHarmony.com ended up becoming a thinly-veiled discussion of my fear of growing up and my aspiration to have some awesome adventures during my 20s.  Of all my columns, this is definitely the one that will remain more relevant for me, and be echoed on this site in the future.

Things Notre Dame Students Like

Friday, April 17^th, 2009

The column that started it all, and sent me off on a project that I am still working on over a year later.  On the surface, this column is nothing more than two blog entries smashed together with an introduction, but its publication brought people to the site that I had been working on for the better part of the semester.  It all began here.

Divinity in day drinking

Friday, April 24^th, 2009

The last column I wrote as a student, in which I discussed how God had given us some great weather for the important drinking days of the semester.  While I was satisfied with this column, I didn’t feel like it was good enough to end my time as a columnist; and I spent the first half of the summer thinking about doing a guest column to start the fall.  It turned out that one column wouldn’t be enough. . .

Fall 2009

What have you done for me lately?

Friday, September 4^th, 2009

My first column as an alum talked about my continuing love for Notre Dame Football, and introduced the audience to the idea that I will be writing from China for the next year.  This was the first time I connected China and Notre Dame, even though I wrote the column from my parent’s basement in Northbrook before I left.

The 21st Birthday (a.k.a. Happy Birthday Julie!!)

Friday, September 18^th, 2009

On my sister’s 21^st birthday, I wrote a column wishing her a Happy Birthday and talking about how awesome 21^st Birthday’s are in general.  It was a column about growing up, and a column where I first talked about the implications of not being in America this year.

My not very sophisticated view

Friday, October 30^th, 2009

I compared ND Nation to Fox News by discussing how both organizations seemingly have questionable motives for wanting groups they claim to love (Notre Dame Football and America) to fail.  I was mainly trying to incite a response from the ND Nation blogging community that I find so hilarious.  The title, by the way, is a reference to a Jack Swarbrick quote defending his scheduling philosophy.

Party in the P.R.C.

Friday, November 13^th, 2009

Taylor Swift, Miley Cyrus, and bars around the world are topics in this column where I discuss my efforts to teach my students English using the music of my favorite pop-country singer. 

An exercise in futility

Friday, December 4^th, 2009

I try to convince Jimmy Clausen that it would be in his best interests to stay at ND for another year.  I failed. 

Spring 2010

Goodbye Mr. Carroll, thanks for the memories

Friday, January 22^nd, 2010

I reminisce about my time hating Pete Carroll, and why this means I was upset to see him leave USC for the Seattle Seahawks. 

True love in Bali?

Friday, February 12^th, 2010

Ostensibly a sequel to my earlier column True Love at Club Fever, this column spun around the premise and discussed how much I missed all of my friends in America while also discussing my struggles with looking like I am fifteen years old in the bars of Asia.

My love-hate relationship with Coach Brey

Friday, March 19^th, 2010

My second column entirely devoted to Notre Dame Basketball, here I wrote about all of the things that I love and hate about our coach (at least for now, as my sources are telling me that he will be resigning on Monday for “personal (think Tiger Woods) reasons”).  

All the Pope's Men

Friday, April 9^th, 2010

My last singularly “concerned citizen” column started off entitled “Pope Benedict vs. The Smoke Monster”, and was going to mainly be about the Pope and Lost until I decided that I needed to reach a broader audience.  This resulted in my comparing the Pope to Nixon and titling the column after the poem Humpty Dumpty, the book All the King’s Men, and the book/movie All the President’s Men.  I also enjoyed the comments very much; particularly the ones from people that fail to understand how Christianity is one of many world religions.

That Little Black Dress

Friday, April 23^rd, 2010

My final observer column discusses happiness, what makes Notre Dame Students happy, when I’ve been happy, and how I think the University needs to change going forward.  Since I knew it was my last column, I made sure it had plenty of pop culture references, a small explanation for why I like Taylor Swift songs, and a title that very many people probably don’t understand.  It gets a little meta at the end, but I hope I made a point.

Now I'm Done

Five Semesters . . . 34 columns (not including the 4 that they refused to publish) . . . nearly 30,000 words.

The time has come for me to conclude my time as a columnist for The Observer with this, my final Column:

That Little Black Dress

I really appreciate everything that the paper and it's staff have done to help me over these years, and have really enjoyed my time working for them.

Bob’s Lost Power Rankings: Season Six, Episodes 7-12

After the unimpressive opening six episodes of this season, the action has really picked up in the middle six episodes.  Not only did the characters all leave behind the boring temple setting in the wake of the Man in Black’s massacre, but the flash sideways have finally started to develop a coherent story thread and excitement.  With only six hours left, Lost is continuing to prove to me why it is one of the best shows that has ever aired, and I can’t wait to see how they wrap it all up.

With that, here’s how I rank all of the characters, over the course of the past six episodes (through Everybody Loves Hugo):

30) Sun (previously ranked 21/25)

Continuing her trend as consistently being one of the most irritating characters on the show, even a few enjoyable scenes in the sideways (I loved the sideways long before it became relevant) couldn’t do anything to elevate Sun.  She solidified her place at the bottom with this “forgot how to speak English” plot point, which is probably the stupidest thing the writers have done on this show since Nikki and Paulo.

29) Kate (23)

In the first six episodes, Kate pretty much just wandered around looking for Claire.  Now that she has found Claire, she pretty much just sits around waiting.  The only thing remotely interesting that she has done, was listen to the Man in Black tell her about crazy mothers (which wasn’t even that interesting).  It’s time for Kate to start handling some unstable dynamite, if you ask me.

28) Claire (6)

Did I miss something here?  I thought big things were supposed to happen with Claire this season, but while she was given a couple nice episodes early on, she has spent most of the middle section of the season just sitting around.  It seems like the last three seasons of her story have been entirely manufactured just to make reasons for Kate to have Aaron off the island and subsequently for Kate to have a reason to come back.  Even these things couldn’t make Kate a compelling character, and they have made Claire an almost non-existent character.  On the bright side, “Still hot though”.

27) Zoe (Not Ranked)

Eh, I guess Widmore needed one of his henchmen to have a face and a characterization, and I guess the show could use a couple more women in it, but she’s kind of worthless and annoying.

26) Mikhail (n/r)

His island incarnation was awesome back in season 3.  His sideways incarnation now . . . not so much.  I’m still waiting for Tom’s cameo in the Sideways.

25) Keamy (11)

I think he would have been better served with only one appearance.  While the first one was great for its tone and brevity, his second appearance with Sun and Jin took up most of the sideways scenes, distracted from the central characters of the episode, and didn’t really bring anything new to the table.  It’s not that it was bad, it just wasn’t anything special. 

24) Jacob (14)

One of my biggest problems with Ab Aeterno was how much it detracted from Jacob’s characterization.  Before the episode he was mysterious and above a lot of the melodramatic fray.  When he met Richard in the past, however, he was whiny and annoying.  His beating up of Richard and subsequent baptismal dunking, came across as boyish and silly.  While I guess the oft discussed ‘cork metaphor’ is a really important moment for the show, the rest of the episode really diminished Jacob’s characterization in my mind.

23) George (n/r)

While I don’t really like when some characters (like Omar) have been given more substantive time in their sideways cameos than they previously had on the show, George Minkowski is an exception.  I thought he was a nice little surprise adding humor to the episode, while remaining in the background enough to let one of the series best episodes play out. 

22) Sayid (19)

Like many other characters in the Man in Black’s camp, Sayid didn’t have much to do in the past six episodes.  Sure he lost his ability to feel emotion, but most of his time left me frustrated that the writers didn’t just kill him off twelve episodes ago.  However, I loved it when he popped up in the water by the dock and saw Desmond, and it was definitely hilarious when he said, “these people are extremely dangerous” right after he killed two of them.  Other than that, however, he doesn’t seem to have much to add to the proceedings.

21) Jin (18)

I really want to like Jin, and am at least glad that Widmore’s people captured him and brought him to someplace interesting (if you haven’t figured it out yet, I hate the Man in Black’s camp).  The scene when he viewed the pictures of his daughter was certainly excellent and well played, but other than that Jin has been a non-factor (even though he had a centric episode).  Luckily for him, it appears that Widmore has a plan for him that we’ll hopefully see soon.

20) Man in Black (13)

It’s nice that he can turn into black smoke and move around the island really quickly, but does that mean that he has to show up next to a character and make them an offer every single episode?  Ok, I’m getting nit-picky now.  I actually have liked many of his recent interactions.  Specifically great were when he encountered Widmore at the sonic fence, and when he pushed Desmond down the well. 

I was, however, disappointed in the Man in Black’s original form in Ab Aeterno.  Just like Jacob, the character seemed to lose a lot of mysticism in his interactions with Richard.  It was also hilarious (in a bad way) when he smashed the jug of wine.  I’m really worried about the direction these characters are headed.

19) Michael (n/r)

In what was probably the swan song for everybody’s favorite father trying to reunite with his son, Michael went out on a better note here than he did in the explosive season 4 finale.  Was his explanation of the whispers a tad bit talky?  Yes, but the problem with all these answer-hungry Lost fans is that they need everything explicitly explained to them (which makes for horrible episodes like Ab Aeterno).  If we don’t see Michael again, he definitely got the farewell that the exceptional character deserved.

One last time together now: “WAAAAAAAAAAAAAALT!!!”

18) Libby (n/r)

Back from the dead in a big way was Hurley’s past almost (but not quite) love, who helped his sideways self remember the events that transpired on the island.  Libby’s inclusion in this episode was well done, even though I question the similarities between Hurley’s love for Libby and Desmond’s or Charlie’s love for Penny and Claire (I mean, didn’t Hurley know Libby for like 5 days?)  Regardless, having Libby in the episode really helped to make Michael’s eventual apology work excellently

17) Richard (15)

If was only rating these characters on the strength of their centric episodes; Richard would certainly be close to the bottom.  I can’t quite understand why everybody seemed to like an episode that was set 150 years before anything relevant to the plot of the show, and included only 1-3 characters that are important.  The episode was long, boring, and only answered questions that had previously been answered (like how Richard got to the island).  What I wanted to see was an overview of Richard’s entire time on the island, specifically how he worked for Jacob all those years.

Obviously, I didn’t get that.

However, outside of his flashbacks, Richard has been the awesome character that we have always loved.  His giggling when Ilana said he knew what to do, or his new determination to blow up the airplane are highly entertaining; but the best Richard moment of the season thus far, was his suicidal stand-off with Jack inside the Black Rock. 

16) Jack (20)

If it wasn’t for the aforementioned suicidal standoff in the Black Rock, Jack too would be much lower on this list.  His throwback assistance to Sun, blindly following Hurley, and general uselessness in his camp have been annoying throughout most of the early going.  The Black Rock scene, however, was definitely the high water mark of on-island scenes this season.  Not only did it give answers about Richard’s past (answer’s that were painstakingly re-explained the following week), but it gave greater depth to the new Jack that has been around for the better part of the past two seasons: a man of faith.

15) Locke (8)

Of course he’s dead in the island timeline, but in the land of the sideways Mr. Locke has given two excellent scenes in the past six weeks.  The first was when he pushed Ben towards the principal job by describing the school using similar words to how he would have described the island in seasons past, a great scene in an amazing episode.  The second scene, when he flew over the front of Desmond’s car landing bloodied and broken on the street, was also awesome.

14) Penny (n/r)

I have to give her credit for not completely freaking out when Desmond showed up at the stadium and approached her.  She gets even more credit for then agreeing to meet him for coffee.  If that actually works in real life, I’m going to start hanging out at empty football stadiums.

13) Charlotte (n/r)

Criticize me all you want, but Charlotte gets this high on the power rankings because she does a spectacular job of cleaning up in the land of the sideways.  Sure, she was pretty nosey going through Sawyer’s Sawyer File, but I can forgive her because she was strikingly beautiful.

12) Alex (n/r)

Like Charlotte, Alex also looks great in her sideways incarnation.  While her relationship with Dr. Linus is somewhat troublesome, she does have a penchant for high school gossip, and a bizarre desire to share that with teachers.  She’s like the Gossip Girl of the sideways, which I can definitely enjoy.

11) Sawyer (3)

Like many other characters, Sawyer has not had much to do recently; but that doesn’t mean he has stopped being awesome.  I loved his flash-sideways story, and I’d love to see a spinoff show where him and Miles fight crime (a show that may or may not include Miles talking to ghosts).  More importantly, in the few scenes that Sawyer has had in the past couple episodes, he has had great comments to the Man in Black, highlighted by:

Sawyer: What do you need a boat for?  Can’t you just turn into smoke and fly your ass over the water?

MiB: Do you think if I could do that I would still be on this island?

Sawyer: No, cause that would be ridiculous. . .

10) Hurley (5)

Hugo’s sixth sense continues to come in handy as he gets warnings from Michael and unites lost loves.  While everybody loves the fact that Hurley has taken a leadership role amongst the survivors, I continue to like the character for his ability to speak for the audience in confusing situations.  Hopefully, this week’s episode has some great scenes between Hurley and the Man in Black.

9) Eloise (n/r)

She appears to know about the two timelines, does she still have Daniel’s original journal from the original timeline?  Is the sideways the result of some sort of corrupt bargain between her and the Man in Black (not my theory, but others believe so)?  While I’m sure the answers are coming, the question I’d like answered is a smaller one: what happened to her hair?

8) Frank (2)

A small drop off for Mr. Lapidus comes only because of his lack of screen time in recent weeks.  Every appearance he makes, however, is golden.  While it was great when he told Sun that they probably made a mistake, his best line came when Ben told him that Richard doesn’t age, “well how the hell do you think that happened?”

7) Charles Widmore (N/R)

Widmore’s return to the island steered the show back in a direction that I had been longing for, and brought on this batch of excellent episodes.  Whether his is showing Jin pictures of Ji Yeon, staring down the Man in Black behind a sonar fence or frying Desmond over to another timeline; Charles Widmore continues to be one of the best characters on this show.  Over in the sideways, Widmore is also at his best: offering Desmond that 60 year old scotch and being fearful of Eloise’s wrath.

As an aside, I think it’s about time for Alan Dale to show his face in another show that I watch.  Maybe he could become Marshall and Barney’s boss in How I Met Your Mother (an even better scenario would have this boss’s daughter being Ted’s future wife).  Dale is an excellent actor (or excellent at playing the role of grumpy old rich white guy that doesn’t think anybody is good enough for his daughter), and he’s always fun to see.

6) Miles (1)

Coming in just outside the top five of my rankings, Miles has continued to be in excellent form.  Starting with his apparent grave robbing if Nikki and Paulo, continuing through his awesome appearance in the sideways, and ending with his decision to join Ben and Richard in a quest to blow shit up (which should be hilarious).  Miles continues to be one of my favorite characters.

I am, however, worried for Miles.  In the past few seasons it has seemed like the show has been systematically killing off characters that aren’t our original castaways: Charlotte, Daniel, Juliet, Ilana. . .  I’m worried that Miles, Frank, and possibly Desmond and Ben are in for trouble very soon.

5) Ilana (9)

She was in line to be ranked around #27 on these rankings until her death exploded her up towards the top.  While I was a little disappointed that we weren’t given any details on her back story (she was pretty much a completely pointless character), her hilarious Arzt-style death made it all worth it.

4) Charlie (N/R)

One of the most beloved characters in the history of the show had a great and lengthy return in which he contributed to the greatness that was Happily Ever After.  It was through Charlie that Desmond was first given that push towards recognizing what is going on, and it is through Charlie that the overarching plot of the sideways began.  Not only were Charlie’s scenes pivotal to the course of the show, but they were also highly entertaining and (quite frankly) beautifully done.  I’m almost certain we’ll see him again before this is all said and done.

3) Daniel (N/R)

Another one of my personal favorite characters followed up Charlie’s scenes with Desmond with one amazing scene.  Daniel one-upped the Drive Shaft artist by actually giving an explanation to what was going on, and helping Desmond to continue on his quest to meet his true love.  My only fear is that in this timeline, Charlotte is far too beautiful to fall for some kooky musician.

2) Ben (4)

For several weeks Ben had the top spot in these rankings locked up because of the greatness that was Dr. Linus.  Not only had we been waiting to see a return to his sideways character since he was introduced in The Substitute, but the episode did the best job all season of making the two storylines (on and off island) mesh together in a meaningful way.  Lost is always at its best when the two storylines work well together, and when they work together to service a character as intricately awesome as Benjamin Linus, then we are all in for a treat.  Here’s hoping we have a few more classic Ben moments before the series ends.

1)    Desmond (17)

Happily Ever After was one of the best episodes this show has ever produced, and it was all because of Desmond.  Desmond was great in the island opening when you could see his lips twitching before he started to bash Widmore with the IV stand.  He was great throughout the sideways as he struggled to babysit Charlie and discover what was really important in his life.  He was great when he popped back into the island world and calmly knew what he had to do (even if the audience wasn’t entirely sure what that was).  Desmond has been one of the most compelling characters this show has given us.  His romance with Penny has now traveled across the space-time continuum, and it remains the most poignant that this show has to offer.  Like most fans, I really hope that Desmond (out of all the characters) is able to get his happily ever after.

Denied

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK

There was a knock at the door . . .

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK

I heard it again as I rolled over in the damp and dirty sheets of my bed inside the Changchun Mansions in Hong Kong.  We had arrived in this hell hole [the building, of course; the city of Hong Kong is awesome] two days earlier painfully exhausted and desperate for any type of lodging whatsoever.  While the room we ended up in might have been the cheapest in all of Hong Kong, it was proof that you get what you pay for.

The room was small, with barely enough space for two beds, and uncomfortably humid.  This wasn’t the warm and sticky type of humidity you find on a hot summer day, but the damp and cold type of humidity that makes you feel like you’re coming down with the black plague or about to descend into a deeper level of hell.  The crown jewel of this room was the bathroom that made even the dingiest of our previous lodgings look like a five star hotel.  Not only did the door leak water all over the floor of our room when we showered, but the toilet was so abysmal that we felt it necessary to only use other bathrooms around the city.

Needless to say, we did not spend too much time hanging out in this room during our stay.

At around midnight on our second night, however, I was fast asleep in the room when the knocking at the door started.  At first I hoped that it was just another door near ours; but as it continued and I heard the Indian accented voice on the other side, my roommate got up to see what was going on.  Apparently the guy was looking for cash because we still hadn’t paid him for that night in the room.  We didn’t have any cash, however, and told him we would pay him in the morning.

This was apparently not good enough for him because within the hour he was back at our door:

KNOCK KNOCK, KNOCK.

Knowing that it was my turn to deal with this guy, I got out of bed and walked to the door.

“Hey brotha, could I get the money?” he said.

“I’m sorry man, we don’t have any money with us right now.  We’ll get it for you in the morning,” I calmly told him, hoping that he would go away.

“You could get money now,” he told me, “there’s a machine in this building.”

“I’m sorry, but I lost my ATM card.  I’m going to the bank tomorrow, and I’ll get you money,” I told him, trying to explain that I couldn’t just go to the ATM machine because my card was gone, something that he clearly did not understand.

“There’s a bank outside, I can show you,” he told me as I finally got a little frustrated with the situation.

“Look, I’m not wearing any pants right now, I’m going to go back to sleep and I promise that first thing in the morning I’m going to the bank and I’ll get your money,” I sternly said to him leaving no other options (well, I suppose he could have just kicked us out, but what sane person was going to pay him what we were for this shithole). 

I closed the door and went back to sleep, and he didn’t bother us again for the rest of the night.

***

When I woke up the next morning, I knew that I had to find cash.  The ATM card that I had lost said MorganStanley SmithBarney on the front, and I figured the best way to get cash would be to go to the MorganStanely SmithBarney offices in Hong Kong and ask to make a withdrawal from my account.  I figured they had to let me withdraw money.

But first, I decided to get breakfast. 

With about 60 Hong Kong Dollars (like $7) in my wallet I considered going to Starbucks or McDonalds where I could get a quick and cheap breakfast, but I decided that I wanted to get a bigger breakfast before I went on my cash hunting adventure.  With free WiFi and one enormous breakfast on the menu that included eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and toast; I decided to go to PJ Muphy’s Pub where I would be able to charge the meal to my credit card.

After eating my meal, and getting sufficient directions to the MorganStanley SmithBarney offices on my computer, it was time for me to pay.  I handed the waitress my Credit Card, and she came back a couple minutes later: my card had been denied.

While somewhat frustrating, this didn’t come as a complete surprise.  My card had been getting declined every so often over the previous couple days.  It would work at some places (like Starbucks), but then not work at other places (like the three banks where I attempted to get cash advances the day before).  In hindsight, I probably should have eaten at a restaurant where I could pay for everything in cash, but the meal at the pub was so good that I couldn’t really regret the decision that I made. 

At this point I had to explain my situation to the waitress, and hope that she would let me leave and get cash from the bank.  My meal cost about 120 HKD (like $15), and I had no other way of paying for it.  After running my card a couple more times, she agreed that I could leave to get cash, but I would have to leave my backpack.  With no other choice, I gave her my backpack (computer and all) and walked outside.

When I emerged from the bar, I was standing on the street next to Changchun Mansions when our Indian friend from the guesthouse came up to me.  He had been standing in front of the building amongst a crowd of Indian guys trying to hawk everything from suits and fake watches to cell phones and guesthouse rooms when he asked me,  “Hey man, do you have the money?”

“I’m going to the bank to get it right now,” I told him as I walked through the crowd of Indians that tried to offer me things I didn’t need.  “I’ll get it to you as soon as I come back,” I said as I walked across the street to catch a cab to the International Commerce Center where my financial institution was supposedly located.  Ironically, I felt assured that my backpack and computer were behind the bar at a pub instead of inside that guesthouse. 

***

20 Hong Kong Dollars later and I was standing in the lobby of the International Commerce Center speaking with the person at the front desk of what appeared to be Morgan Stanley’s Asia offices.  The building was pristinely new (I later found out that they were still finishing the upper floors) with a massive main floor lobby that must have stretched up eight floors and opened up into a high end shopping mall below. 

As I stood there talking with the woman at the front desk, plenty of men in business suits walked past me and into the elevators leading up to offices and conference rooms.  None of them really noticed me as I explained to the woman that I had an account in America with this institution, and all I wanted to do was make a withdrawal.  As one might imagine, I wasn’t having much success.

Apparently there is some sort of “one company, two systems” approach used by this particular financial institution (Is it Smith Barney?  Is it Morgan Staney?  Is it CitiBank?  I honestly have no idea, as the card I hold lists all three names) and my account could not actually be accessed from their end.  The woman at the desk essentially told me that there was no way she could help.  Pleading, I told her that I had a financial advisor with them.

“Oh really?  What is his name?

I told her the name of my financial advisor and watched as she typed it in.

“Oh he’s out of Scottsdale,” she said, confirming to me that this institution had some sort of connection to the one that holds my money.  “No, we can’t help you,” she continued, before I could say anything in response.

I stepped away from the desk and walked around the lobby for a while trying to regroup from this rejection.  Here I was in a foreign city half a world from home, my laptop being held as collateral at a pub a couple miles away, with roughly $4 in local currency and a credit card that didn’t seem to work when I needed it to being the most valuable things in my wallet.  You might say I had reached a new level of broke.

Things probably could have been worse though (like, say, if I was strapped in a chair Clockwork Orange-style, being forced to sit through The Curious Case of Benjamin Button again).

I walked around the mall for a little while thinking of ways I could get cash, and had the idea that I could open up an account with this branch of the bank, and somehow transfer funds from my other account in America.  Thinking this was a great idea, I went back into the skyscraper-proper and asked the woman in the front desk how I could open an account:

“I’m sorry, it takes a minimum of $100,000,000 to open an account with us,” she told me, as I stood there with a baffled look on my face.  How many clients did this company actually have? Seven?  I finally asked the woman if there was any way she could get me the number of my account through her computer so that I could try to get another bank to transfer the money.

Like the rest of my suggestions and attempts at these offices, this one was also denied.  Knowing that I was in a bind, I realized that I was out of options.  It was time to use the lifeline that no 23 year old ever wants to use. 

I had to call my parents.

***

Calling for help is never easy.  It’s only natural for people to think they can solve their own problems and for people to want to solve their own problems.  Calling for help is even more difficult for a young adult trying to prove that he is an independent person that can solve problems on his own.  I hate having to call for help.

Making things even more difficult was the fact that my only means of communicating with my parents (my computer) was being held for ransom by an angry waitress at a pub across town.  Without enough cash on me to use an Internet bar, I had no other choice than to spend half of my money returning to the Pub next door to Changchun Mansions where this story began.

I exited the cab a few blocks down the street from the pub (a savvy move that saved me about 25 cents), and started walking towards it with the feeling of anger in my step.  I had been convinced that I would be able to get cash at that bank, and I wasn’t really sure what was going to happen.  Just then, I remembered one crucial element that I had entirely forgotten about: getting back to the pub would require again walking through the crowd of Indian peddlers. 

Before I even got to the crowd, my Indian friend was again standing in front of my with his hands on his hips expecting me to pay up.  “You have my money,” he said angrily, “my boss is coming in a few minutes, and I need to pay him for your room or you’re out.”

As I continued to walk past him I sternly (and a bit loudly) remarked, “There was a problem, I don’t have it yet, but I’m working on it right now.”  He tried to follow me, but I didn’t stop.  He was frustrated and angry, and I was angry and frustrated.  Hoping he wouldn’t follow me into the bar, I walked inside and immediately retrieved my laptop, found a place in the corner, plugged in my headset, and made the phone call.

Luckily, I was easily able to connect through Skype, and my parents were home to hear about my troubles.  I told them about how I needed cash, and about how I tried to go to the offices of the bank, and how I couldn’t pay my bill for breakfast, and about the Indian guy that was yelling at me on the street, and how I really didn’t know what I could do at this point.

The first thing we decided to do was call my financial advisor.  Since he lived in Scottsdale it still wasn’t too late to call him and we were able to have a three way conference: Hong Kong to Northbrook to Scottsdale.  While he was talking to my parents, the waitress came over to my table and asked me if I had retrieved the money to pay for the bill.  She was concerned that if I didn’t pay by the time her shift ended, she would have to pay the bill out of her wage.

“I’m talking to my money person right now,” I assured her as the conversation back in America continued.

Apparently my account was through SmithBarney, and the offices I went to belonged to MorganStanley.  The companies are somehow the same but somehow different.  There is also some sort of further separation from the United States to Hong Kong.  It was all far too complicated for me, and I started to make jokes about my predicament while a new strategy was explained to me.  I should go back to the office and just demand to see more important people until they gave me money.

I was pretty sure that I had already tried that.

After talking with my financial advisor, I further discussed the situation with my parents.  Having already been to this office on the other side of Kowloon, I was pretty sure that the new strategy would not be very successful.  I then mentioned how I was confused about why my credit card sometimes worked and sometimes didn’t work; and my parents figured it would be best to call the credit card company and ask.

Once we got the credit card company on the line, we figured out that they had disabled my credit card simply because it was bouncing around random countries from Indonesia to Singapore to Macau to Hong Kong.  They asked me to go over some charges:

“One hundred and seven dollars from a bank in Indonesia on February 20^th?” she asked.

“Yes, that was me,” I said.

“Two hundred and seventy dollars from the Casino Grand Lisboa in Macau on February 22^nd?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, embarrassed and ashamed for how much money I had lost a couple nights earlier, “That was me.”

“Fifteen dollars and forty cents from PJ Murphy’s Pub in Hong Kong?” she finally asked.

“YES,” I exclaimed, “That’s it!  That’s where I am right now!  Let me pay that bill!!”

She typed away at her computer and told me that I would now be able to pay the bill.  I then told her that I would shortly be getting a cash advance from the bank down the street, and she said that it would work for that as well.  As I finished the conversation with the credit card person I was laughing at the fact that all of this hassle had essentially been over fifteen dollars.

When I finally paid the bill at the pub and saw that the credit card had been accepted, I felt a huge burden fall off my shoulders.  A level of relief overcame me that can only be described with lazy clichés and descriptions.  Somehow, I seemingly made it out of this disaster.  I sat back down at my computer and talked to my parents a little while longer, but it was getting late in Northbrook, and I still had one thing to do.

***

I emerged from the pub for the second time that morning with a new sense of purpose.  Card in hand, I was going to walk to the bank a few blocks away and get the cash advance, but before I could walk ten feet the Indian guy was standing in front of me: 

“Look man,” I said, “I just got off the phone with my bank, and I am going to get your cash right now.  If you want to come with me, you’re more than welcome to, otherwise I’ll be back in ten minutes,” I told him.  I was no longer frustrated or angry at my situation, I was calm and happy.

Luckily, he didn’t follow me to the bank (that would have been weird), but if he had followed me he would have seen an even greater level of relief come across me when the bank teller handed me the cash.  As I walked out of that bank, I finally had enough money to last me the rest of my trip, and the first thing I needed to do was pay the man.

I walked back to the Changchun Mansions with a hop in my step, and approached the man with a huge wad of cash in my pocket.  “Could we do this inside?” I asked, making him think that I didn’t want to show others the cash, when in reality I just wanted to make sure that he actually had a key to our room and really was the right guy I had to pay.

We went back up to that disgusting room and I was finally able to pay him for the night before, and the two nights that followed.

A New Observer Column

In case you hadn't seen it, here is the link to my latest Observer Column.

http://www.ndsmcobserver.com/viewpoint/all-the-pope-s-men-1.1312415

Committed to the Pot

Sitting at a poker table nearly full of Chinese gamblers on the fourth floor of the Grand Lisboa casino in the Special Administrative Region of Macau, China, I looked at the cards in my hand and those on the table and I knew that I had lost it on the river.  While I had been floating around even for the better part of two hours, I was sucked in by a hand where I had the high pair, and there wasn’t much of anything else on the table.

He bet, I called, he bet, I called. 

It was 2 AM and I was dead tired, but before I knew it there was a straight draw on the table and I was committed to the pot.  Even though I knew that he had probably won the hand, there was no other way.  I had to call his bet.  If I lost, I would have to buy back in, because in the same way that I was committed to the pot, I was also committed to this game.  It was 2 AM and the night was far from over.

But of course, I’ve gotten ahead of myself

***

48 hours earlier I was on the stage of a bar in Bali singing Don McLean’s American Pie in front of a decently intoxicated crowd of Australian and Swedish vacationers.  Because I didn’t really know the song that well and the Indonesian backup band was clearly adding their own spin to it, I sounded horrible.* Somehow I translated this horrible singing of the song into a pick up line of sorts, and struck up a conversation with two Australian girls from Perth.

One of the first things the girls took note of was my Notre Dame hat.  Apparently they had become friends with Notre Dame Students that were studying abroad in Perth, and had come to the conclusion that Americans are spoiled brats that are ungrateful for the college education their parents are paying for.  As I explained to them how they are only meeting a small number of Americans in this part of the world, and yes most of them are going to come from upper middle class backgrounds, I angrily thought to myself: WHO ARE THESE NOTER DAME STUDENTS THAT ARE GOING TO PERTH, AND WHAT ARE THEY MAKING THESE AUSTRALIANS THINK???

Anyways, after a couple hours of talking to these girls about all sorts of random things (in which time one bought me a drink), they decided to leave.  At this point it was around 4 AM and I did the most sensible thing I could think of: I walked up to the dance floor.  However, when I got there I saw the line or Indonesian hookers standing against the wall, and realized it was time to go to bed (this was, of course a week and a half after my birthday).

So I guess I learned something from my previous adventures, because on this night I actually went to bed.

*The main reason I chose to sing “American Pie” song was because earlier that week Senator Evan Bayh had announced that he was retiring from the senate ostensibly because the partisan hatred had become too much for him.  I probably read 15-20 news articles about his retirement that week as I planned to write an Observer Column entitled “Bye, Bye, Mr, Senator Bayh” that would strongly reference (potentially a line for line adaptation) the song “American Pie” and use the themes of a loss of innocence and change as a way to talk about the loss of the middle in American politics.  Ultimately, I realized the song and political situation were both too complicated to easily make this happen; and I was on a tropical island. 

***

4 hours after I went to sleep, I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock in our hotel room.

We had a flight out of Bali that afternoon, and there were several things I needed to do before we left.  After showering, packing my bag, eating breakfast, downloading the most recent episodes of Lost (which were What Kate Does and The Substitute), I had one final thing that I needed to do before leaving the island and returning to less sweaty locales.

I needed to retrieve my ATM card.

A couple days earlier I had again lost my ATM card inside an machine near our hotel (something that would have taken me a LOT longer to realize if I didn’t have to give almost all of my cash to a police officer).  I had already been to the branch office of this ATM machine’s bank 4 times in the previous two days and they assured me that they had the card.  With two hours left on the island, I went to go pick it up from them; but I had to wait.

When you have an international flight leaving an island in less than two hours, and still must take a cab through an unknown amount of traffic to get to the airport, any amount of time waiting in a bank lobby is too much.  I spent what seemed like an eternity sitting in that lobby watching the seconds on the clock tick down and trying to keep my calm as the Indonesian banker dealt with the other customers that had arrived before me.  As the time ticked away, I started to become worried that we were going to miss our flight. 

Luckily, my turn came up and I quickly walked up to the desk.  After assuring me several times that they had my card in their machine, they notified me that they were unable to remove the card from the machine.  Knowing I would need cash for the days ahead, I quickly took an advance from my credit card and ran back to the hotel so that we could leave for the airport.  My bank probably had a Hong Kong branch; I could deal with it there.

The ride to the airport was slow and smoggy.  Sitting in the backseat of the van, with air pumping in that smelled like gasoline, I started to get a headache as we slowly made our way through the crowded streets of Denpasar to the airport.  Our driver paid the toll at the entrance to the airport less than 90 minutes until our flight was supposed to leave and as he pulled up to the  departures gate we quickly grabbed our bags and ran into the chaotic terminal of Bali’s airport.

Inside the airport was madness.  There were people everywhere, and they all seemed to be going through one massive security line that led further into the airport.  With no check-in counters to be seen, we entered the lines with everybody else and slowly followed the crowd to the security checkpoint where we played dumb about not having boarding passes and walked through (we later found out that there were more security checkpoints to go through).

Roughly 45 minutes until take-off, we quickly found the line for JetStar, got to the front, and dropped our bags on the conveyer belt when we saw the sign: the plane that was supposed to take us to Singapore would not arrive for another FIVE HOURS.

***

Sometime after 11:00 PM local time, I got off our plane in Singapore and knew that we had missed our connecting flight to Macau.  While I had a productive delay in Bali by writing postcards, buying a couple books, and watching the two episodes of Lost I had downloaded earlier that day*, we knew as soon as we heard about the delay that we would probably miss our connecting flight.

Because the flight we missed was from the same airline that senselessly delayed our first flight (rumor has it they lent the plane we were supposed to be on to some other airline—this was, after all, budge travel), we figured that the people at the JetStar desk in the main terminal of the Singapore airport would be able to get us onto the next flight.  We picked up our bags, went through customs, and went up to the departures gate. 

At the departures gate of the Singapore airport, the JetStar desk was closed for the night.  While airport staff told us that JetStar’s people were supposed to meet us at the gate as we exited our plane, this clearly had not happened.  Our best option was to sleep at the airport and go to the JetStar desk when they opened at 6:00 the next morning. 

Luckily (ok, not really, but there has to be a bright side), the Singapore airport is probably the nicest airport in the world.  Not only were there plenty of excellent food options and free candies at the every desk, but the staff gave us blankets and directed us to the quietest area of the entire airport where it would be easiest to sleep on the floor.  After getting some dinner, we pushed the cart with our bags on it to the upstairs lounge of the terminal where there was a carpeted area away from all the hustle and bustle of the airport.  I attached my bags together, and literally put my arms around my small backpack with my computer, and went to sleep on the floor of the Singapore airport while a group of people was playing Monopoly nearby.

After a long day of travel (which I had done on only four hours of sleep), it was 1:00 AM and I passed out on that floor relatively easily (although, it was still the floor).

*While everybody knows that I love Lost, I find it absolutely terrifying to watch the show on airplanes.  I watched a couple episodes on airplanes in February, and every time I felt a little bit of turbulence I’d have to pause my iPod, grasp the armrests, and try to not think about other passengers flying up into the ceiling and the tail section ripping off the plane.

***

When I heard the sound of my alarm clock about five hours later, the people that had been playing Monopoly at the other end of the lounge were gone, but there were several more people asleep in different corners of the area.  One guy was laying perfectly asleep in a business suit across from us, while another guy was curled up in the other corner.  I guess we weren’t the only people to miss a flight.

I was still exhausted when we walked down to the JetStar desk that was finally open.  They told us that we should attempt to get on an early afternoon flight, and they said there would definitely be space for us (even though the flight was completely booked).  With the entire morning to kill I went up to the Popeyes Chicken where we had eaten dinner, and went to sleep sitting at a table (something that reminded me of the good old days of falling asleep in my Economics classes at Notre Dame). 

When I woke up at the table a couple hours later, I started to notice some things that were strange about this airport.  On the wall of the Popeye’s was a sign that said the tables could not be used by students for studying between 11 AM and 11 PM.  This would have seemed completely out of place if it wasn’t for the table of students sitting across from me.  I remembered they had been there the night before and was confused over why they would be studying in the airport restaurant all night.

As it turns out, the Singapore Airport is a popular hangout destination for local young people.  Every restaurant we went into on the outside of security had signs that limited the hours students and others could hang out in the restaurants.  One of the students in the Popeye’s said that the airport had everything they needed.  It had WiFi, air conditioning, and plenty of places to get food.  I was suddenly less confused about the people playing Monopoly in the lounge where we slept; the airport was to these people what malls and basements are to Americans.

After getting a Deluxe Big Breakfast at McDonalds, and spending some quality time using the free WiFi at the airport (after I discovered this, I was satisfied that it was the best airport I have ever been in); I washed my face and brushed my teeth in the bathroom, and we went back to the JetStar desk to get our tickets.

***

We landed in Macau around dusk and asked the person at the ‘Tourism Information’ desk where we could find some budget accommodations.  While you might think that this would be something the Tourist Information desk would be able to help us with, it was not.  The best response she gave us was to get on a bus that would take us to the port, and then get a cab from there. 

The cab we took from the port did not know of the street we were looking for, and quickly got angry when we tried to show him a map.  Since he couldn’t take us to the street we thought would have accommodations for us, he dropped us off (bags and all) in front of the famed Casino Lisboa.  Since this was one of the two sites we wanted to see in Macau, we went inside and looked around.

Not wanting to carry our bags anymore, we found a desk to check them so we could enter the casino; and once we found this bag check we came to the definitive decision of the night (and this story): there was no reason to get a hotel room.  Since we only had one other site we wanted to see in Macau, a site that was within walking distance, and the only other things we needed to do in this city were eat Portuguese food and gamble; we realized that the best thing to do would be to stay up all night gambling, and then take the ferry to Hong Kong in the morning.

Standing in the casino at that very moment the adrenaline had already kicked in, “sure, we can stay up all night gambling, that’s a great idea” I thought, completely forgetting about the fact that I hadn’t seen in a bed for 36 hours, and had only gotten something that resembled 8 hours of sleep over the past two nights (I say resembled because the sleep on the airport floor hardly counts).  I remembered the great all-nighter Sharky and I once pulled in London instead of getting a hotel, and was convinced it would be easier with the 24 hour casinos of Macau.*

Needless to say, I was wrong.

*In my adrenaline high at the moment of this decision, I remembered Sharky and my experience in London in a completely wrong way.  While it was a great day that included getting into a Championship League level Football match and watching Barnsley upset Chealsea from a pub; the night that followed was pretty miserable.  Having decided to stay up all night we saw closing time at three different pubs/bars and ended up at an American Sports bar where we slept in booths while Duke fans nearby were watching the UNC game.  After the game ended and that bar closed, we briefly discussed taking a nap on the street but managed to stay awake until we could get on a bus.  After falling asleep on this bus, we ended up in some ridiculously bad neighborhood where the bus line ended and I thought we were going to get shot.  Somehow we managed to make it to Heathrow in time for our flight that morning.

***

After we saw the Ruins of St. Paul’s (the one sight we wanted to see), as well as wandered around the central historic district, we decided that we needed to shave and wash up before we went gambling.  We bought shaving supplies (we had run out of shaving cream ten days earlier) and took it to the bathroom of the casino where we shaved and washed up.

All clean and ready to go; we had a big Portuguese dinner and proceeded to begin the gambling.  It was around 11:00 PM and we knew that we needed to figure out how to maximize the amount of time gambling because we were staying up all night.  The place where I obviously turned my attention was blackjack.  The cheapest possible blackjack table could last for a long time, and was really a better bet than any other table games (except, of course, Baccarat, which I really need to learn how to play).

The blackjack did not go well for me.  It’s not that I lost a lot of money playing, but that I lost too much money considering the minimal amount of time I spent playing.  The problem with blackjack is that, unless you’re counting cards you really have no way to control the game.  You just do what you’re supposed to and let the cards fall the way they do. 

We needed a game that had more options.  We needed a game that we could control the pace of.  We needed a game suitable for staying up all night.  We needed Hold ‘Em; and it turned out that the casino we were playing at had tables with blinds that weren’t substantially higher than the ones I play with back in Northbrook.

So I did something I thought I would never do, and sat down at a poker table nearly full of Chinese gamblers on the fourth floor of the Grand Lisboa casino in Macau. 

***

For a while, things went great.  A couple hours went by and I was hovering right around the amount I bought in for.  I had won some hands, and I had lost some hands, but for the most part I was just staying put and watching the cards fly by.  I knew that I could enjoy myself for a long time if I wasn’t losing that much money and if I didn’t have to do anything crazy.

But then, as usually happens, everything changed.

Before I could comprehend what happened, I had lost almost all of my money in one hand.  I don’t even think I realized what was happening as I kept calling the other guy’s bets.  Sure, I thought that I could win the hand; but it certainly was no sure thing.  Maybe it was because I was tired and wasn’t completely paying attention that I kept calling his bets that were far too high (actually, it is almost certainly because I was tired and not completely aware), but then it was 2:30 AM and I was out of the game and still needing to stay up further into the night.

After a ridiculously long journey to get to this casino, however, I couldn’t possibly be finished playing.  I had committed myself to that table just as I had committed myself to the pot in the hand where I lost it all.  Sure I could have cut my losses and stopped playing, just like I could have gotten out of that hand earlier; but I was committed to playing some more and seeing this night to the end just as I was committed to seeing the last card of that hand.

So I got more chips, bought back in, and played poker for several more hours.

***

By 5:00 AM that money was gone as well and I was completely beat.  We had been going for two days without adequate sleep and I barely had enough energy to lift my backpack as we took it out of the checking area.  We stepped outside the casino into the gloomy Macau dawn and got a cab to take us back to the port.  We bought our tickets for the ferry to Macau and I proceeded to fall asleep on the disgusting floor of the port building.  At that moment I hated Macau, I hated gambling, and I hated travelling.  All I wanted was a bed of my own.

I fell asleep again after we went through customs and security, in the waiting room to board the boat.

I fell asleep again after we boarded the boat during the ride from Macau to Hong Kong.

When I woke up, I didn’t have much of an idea of where we were, but I followed the rest of the people off the boat and through the Hong Kong customs.  We went down through the adjacent building and got on the subway to Kowloon (part of Hong Kong that isn’t the island). 

Getting off the Subway and up to the street, Gavin and I found ourselves standing in front of Chungking Mansions. 

Chungking Mansions is a pretty big building with a huge cluster of Indian men standing in front of it trying to peddle watches, suits, electronics, and rooms to stay in.  Before we could even walk across the street, one of these Indian men came up to us and started to negotiate prices.  “Do you need a room?” he said, as he pulled us in the direction of the building and told us to follow him.  

We followed him into the most ridiculous labyrinth of a building I’ve ever seen.  The ground floor was something of a marketplace for fake watches, cell phones, and Indian food that was bustling with people of all sorts of ethnicities.  Above the ground floor of this building are a variety of guesthouses, and this guy was taking us to one of them. 

We walked through the marketplace; past stands selling porn, other stands selling coats, and a place for Pakistani food; and arrived at a pair of elevators that would take us up to one of the guesthouses that the man worked for.  The first room he showed us only had one bed, which was not going to happen, and we had him bring us to a second place.

He took us to a small room with two beds.  The room was dark and damp, and the bathroom door couldn’t close all the way causing water to leak out into the room.  It did have two beds, however; so we took it.  We paid the man for one night and closed the door.

It was 10:00 AM, 50 hours since I woke up in my bed in Bali, and it was finally time for bed.