If you’ve read any of my stuff you’ll know that I spent a number of years in San Jose, so it isn’t place name dropping when I say that this is where the following occured. We lived in a ground floor apartment with only one floor above us, the San Andreas Fault meant that there were very few multi storey apartment buildings, that and there was a lot more space than in San Francisco.
In the apartment directly above us lived a Korean guy (this is really strange) who used to come out of this front door every morning and have 7 loud sneezes in quick succession, always 7 and always loud. Years later we read somewhere that it has something to do with a reaction to sunlight and in fact, affects a number of people (honest). This story has nothing to do with that, but it was strange and it always made us laugh.
I used to love to cook in our little patio on our little hibachi, everything was small. And while I cooked I liked to drink and smoke – after all this was a bbq! I also liked the occasional doobie – after all this was California.
And this would be the hibachi. Not all that earth shattering but I have a lot of good memories from it. The wood and debris lying around would be part of some project that I was working on, as this 3ft x 6ft area also doubled as my home workshop, a bit diferrent to the 30ft x 90ft shed I use today.
So, I was out cooking one day when the guy from upstairs came to the front door. Now I had never spoken to to him before (mainly because I don’t speak Korean and he didn’t speak Ingrish), but we always either waved or gave a head nod by way of greeting. We Aussies are just friendly like that.
Anyway when I opened the door, he asked me if I was Ewan Budd. I looked at him for a moment and replied “Sorry mate, my name’s Peter. I don’t know any Ewan”. He was holding a paper bag and repeated “Ewan Budd?”. Again I informed him that Ewan did not live here.
“No, no, no” came a somewhat emphatic reply, this time holding up the brown paper bag he repeated, “You wan bud?, You wan bud?”.
Ah! now you’re talking my language! I hadn’t taken this guy to be a dope smoker but as I’ve said, this is California. Plus if he’s giving it away he can’t be much of a pothead.
“Firkin oath” I replied enthusiastically. He just handed me the bag and went back upstairs. It only took a second to drink in the joy of this amazing piece of serendipity and I was back in side eagerly anticipating the effects of this unexpected but welcome present.
Filed under: Anecdotes |