Those of you who followed my journal know that my bandmates in Hong Kong were some pretty close-minded hicks who, although we now get along and I've gotten over the situation, never really owned up to the way they mistreated me.
Well... a few days ago we talked for the first time since getting back to Toronto. Turns out it came to bite them on the ass and, well, I feel pretty good about it. First a slight prologue:
Early on in the trip I noticed that our passport visas expired on the day before we were supposed to come back. I got Holly (the singer/leader on the gig, who of course I had to tell about this administrative duty) to check with our agent and the hotel staff in charge of our immigration, and they both said not to worry. Of course I continued to worry, until I switched my flight to a day earlier!!
Fast forward to October 31st. I was lounging around in my new awesome apartment, just loving being back. Meanwhile, in Hong Kong, Holly and Mark's problems began. There were problems with the weight allowance as far as Mark's upright bass - they wouldn't let it on the plane. They got stopped again because Holly's bags were too heavy, and the most beautiful part...they got stopped at immigration. They were let off by paying for an extra day of visa, and by the time they got to the gate they had held up the flight for half an hour. Mark's bass is still there. When they talked to the agent, he said: "well, would you consider selling the bass?" which is a nice indication of the level of hope in getting it back.
The best part of all this is that after telling me, Holly said: "We left the hotel on such good terms, so why all this??? I feel like someone's trying to send me a message..."
That's right toots. The message is don't fuck with aberkok.
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Warden Gentiles: "It? Perfectly innocent. But I can see how, if our roles were reversed, I might have you beaten with a pillowcase full of batteries."
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