Is the grass always greener?

Do you ever pass strangers on the street and wonder what their lives are like?  I don't usually indulge in this this sort of pastime, but when I came across the guy in the picture below the other night, I found I could not help but wonder about his life.  I'm sorry the picture is not very clear, but that's what happens when you see something so completely odd that you have to first drop everything you're carrying, then dig through your purse for your cell phone, and then run half a block to get close enough to take a picture:

The man is carrying a lifesize headless mannequin.  Every so often he would stop and adjust it in his arms.  First, it was slung over his shoulder, with the severed neck dragging behind him.  Then he had it gripped across the breasts so that he and the mannequin formed sort of a "T" with the man's body, but he was too wide on the sidewalk, so finally he settled on this grip, across the kneecaps, which seemed to suit him.   All the while he was talking to the girl next to him, as if this was just a normal thing to do. There was not any discussion at all referencing his odd baggage, such as, "When we get home, let's dress up this mannequin", or "I hope my mannequin will fit on the back of my motorcycle." No. Instead they chatted about a song they had heard on the radio and what they planned to do for the weekend, as if carrying a mannequin down the streets of San Francisco at 10 PM at night on a Wednesday was a normal thing to do. 

Who knows? Maybe he always walked around with a mannequin, to avoid feeling lonely.  "Bring a friend," said the invitation.  "Why, don't mind if I do!  I just happen to have a mannequin-friend who would love to come along!  Of course, she doesn't have a head, but don't mind that.  She's quite pleasant otherwise. A great listener!"  I find myself wondering if she is heavy, or maybe she is very light. Maybe she floats, and the reason he wants her is because he is planning on surfing at Ocean Beach the next morning, and his surfboard was stolen.  Riding the waves on a mannequin might be fun, after all.  Hmm.  This is San Francisco. Maybe he just wants to ride the mannequin while his girlfriend watches.  It couldn't be that they would want to have the mannequin watch, because she doesn't have a head.  I don't know.  This is why I don't spend much time wondering about the lives of strangers.  You never know what you might discover.  I guess I should just mind my own business. My mannequin-less business.

Lessons Learned

I have learned a valuable lesson: If you have to go to the emergency room, regardless of the reason for your visit, claim to have chest pains in addition to whatever symptoms you may also be experiencing. This will get you immediately to the front of the line, and shortly thereafter, perched on a comfy gurney and on your way to see a doctor.  When you pay $100 for a visit, this is the treatment you deserve.

Bob was out riding his bike at lunch today and shortly thereafter, he began experiencing flutterings in his heart rhythm, which wouldn’t stop after a sufficient period of rest.  He called his doctor’s office, and was told that since this condition was somewhat of an emergency given his bypass last year, he would receive a call back shortly.  Nonetheless, two hours later, no response.  Well, what can you expect from a doctor who diagnosed a near-MERSA staff infection as bursitis, and was shocked and amazed to learn, despite Bob’s complaints of chest pains, that Bob had a 97% blockage of the main artery in his heart?  Good thing I had insisted on further tests, because this guy was never going to order them. 

Rather than wait for his doctor to eventually finish picking his nose and give us a call back, Bob ended up going into the ER, which is where we are now.

Arriving in the lobby, there is a woman whose lip is swollen to the point it threatens to cover her nose. It is beginning to consume her entire face.  “No, I widn’t hit it wif anyfing,” she struggles to say.  “I don’t fink I ate anyfing unusual.”  She is ushered to a seat to wait.  Apparently she did not understand that she should also say, “And I am also haffing chest pains.” 

Shortly thereafter, a young, athletic looking guy walks in and proceeds to slump to the floor.  “Why are you sitting on the floor?” an orderly asks.  “I didn’t want to faint and fall on the floor,” he says, with a miserable expression on his face.  “Are you having vertigo or feeling dizzy?” inquires the orderly.  “No, I just don’t want to faint. I am in terrible pain, and when that happens sometimes I black out. I didn’t want to fall over and get hurt.”  He is trying to sound calm but is apparently not feeling too well.   I want to whisper to him, “Claim to have chest pains!” but I can’t manage to do it without detection.  “You can’t sit on the floor,” says the orderly.  In a few minutes she returns with a nurse who takes the man’s blood pressure and helps him to a chair.  “So, are you feeling dizzy or having vertigo?” asks the nurse.  “I said no, no dizziness, I just feel faint from the pain.  My ear is in terrible pain. I was seen at 3AM morning and what they gave me doesn’t seem to be helping the infection.”  I immediately perk up and begin listening intently.  Having suffered terribly over the years from horrible ear infections, I can completely understand his pain and misery.  Now I really want to scream “and chest pains!  Remember, you also have chest pains brought on by the stress of the ear pain!”  But instead, he just slumps further in his chair while listening to a lecture on the semantics of the word “dizzy”.  The nurse drones on, “Well, dizziness doesn’t have to mean a spinning feeling. It could also mean a fainting feeling.  So if you say you aren’t dizzy but you are faint, I am not quite sure what you mean. Let me ask again, are you feeling dizzy?”  “Yes, I guess so,” he concedes. “It just really, really hurts. I can’t concentrate.” I see that familiar look pass between the nurse and the orderly.  “Drug seeking behavior!” they seem to be communicating telepathically to each other. “He is just in here to get more vicodin.”  I think about claiming to be the poor boy’s mother and reminding him that while he is not trying to be a burden to the ER staff, he also is having chest pains which for some reason he forgot to mention.  But just then, Bob is wheeled into the back recesses of the hospital for his EKG and the opportunity passes. 

Everything looks good for Bob, but just to be sure, he gets blood tests, a chest Xray, additional EKG’s, an order for a stress test tomorrow morning and an appointment to be fitted with a heart monitor for a 24 hour test, which unfortunately won’t be conducted until July 20th, 9 days from now.  I guess this is the only situation where the severity of having chest pains is outweighed by the scarcity of heart monitors.  No worries.  Bob feels better knowing that he has not had a heart attack.  Now he is hungry and we leave the hospital in search of something vegan.  It’s after 9 PM which in this area, means our choices are fast food or Wheaties with rice milk.  Guess which option wins?  Dinner of champions, here we come!

Man with Too Many Countries

One of the best things about the work I do is the diversity of assignments I get to pursue.  In any given week I might be scheduling speaking events for the local treasury symposium, closing a hush-hush financing transaction, or figuring out a way to bring a few million dollars back to the US from Russia without paying huge fees or suffering an FX loss.  This week, my task was to look for the best payment methods to offer to online consumers in over 200 different countries.  As part of this job, I would also need to ensure my client could minimize its FX gains or losses which arose when they converted the local payments received into US dollars.  To get started on this project, I decided to group all the countries we sold to into the geographic territories that coincided with my client’s regional businesses, and then to further group them by currency, since in many cases a common currency such as Euro, US Dollar, or Australian Dollar was used.  What I learned was this:  There are a lot of bizarre countries out there!  Like Togo.  Where the heck is that located? Oh, right next to the Bight of Benin, Burkina Fasa and Ghana.  Well at least I’ve heard of Ghana.  Not to be confused with Guyana, French Guiana or New Guinea (which is not the same as Guinea-Bissau, or Republic of Guinea).  And then there are the Bailiwicks – the Bailiwick of Guernsey and the Bailiwick of Jersey.  Really???  Even Google had a hard time locating Vanuatu, Tokelau, and Tuvalu.  Do you think the people of these places actually have money to spend buying things online ?  I suppose if you haven't engaged in genocide, you aren't a religious fanatic, or you don't produce oil, then your country may remain in relative obscurity forever. 

One of my favorite finds was Lesotho, whose current ruler is King MoShoeShoe II.  “Give me my shoe shoe and while you’re at it, throw in some sock-socks!”  Down the list of countries appear Nauru, Niue and Aotearoa.  Aotearoa is the native language name for New Zealand, explaining why it appears with the “N” countries on my list.  Then there are all the –stans:  Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Pakistan.  This last country, along with Turkey, has me wondering - Where do you draw the line between Eastern Europe and Middle East?  I have to classify these into regions somehow…

Another odd thing about the countries are the two-digit ISO codes which are used to abbreviate the country names.  AQ is Antarctica.  Hmm. Q.  AX is the Aland Islands.  BJ is the Bight of Benin.  Think about that.  BJ and Bight together don’t exactly bring up happy thoughts.  Nor does the abbreviation for Bermuda.  BM.  Reminds me of a cross country driving trip I once took with Carena.  All the towns put their initials on the hillsides.  We passed W, then C.  Then we came to Battle Mountain.  Could there actually be a nefarious plan behind it, like some kind of strange suggestive-sell for the gas station bathrooms?  I could see the marketing geniuses at work:  “We’ll subliminally entice them into the station by putting a gigantic BM on the side of the hill, but to get to the restrooms, they will have to weave past the aisles of ho-hos, twinkies, and hot pink sno-balls!  Who will be able to resist that much temptation?”

But I digress.  Time passes and I need to figure out how to collect payments from Sao Tome and Palau in currencies other than conch and coconut shells, without violating the drug-trafficking regulations.  Details, details!