Vacation, Motherfuckers


Get off your boss’s dick and fly away. Hike around with your salary lumped fat in your pockets and buy some motherfucking bamboo wall hangings. Buy two venti drip coffees, three goddamn beers, ten plates of sushi. Have vacation sex on a mattress with a different bounce to it. Wear a kimono with a hotel logo on the chest. Be a prince for a little bit. Try to find the train; cling to your city map like you’re Indiana Jones and had to shoot a guy to get it.


Japanese people are hushed and reverent. Meanwhile back in Korea they scream and hack mucus on your shoes, park fruit trucks outside your window with bullhorns on them. I wish Japan had won the war and imposed manners by force. Turned the whole continent into a quiet temple courtyard, only noise you hear is harp chords lilting on the breeze. But America had to drop bombs and fuck it all up.


Tokyo was what I wanted. Incomprehensible and perfectly foreign. 100% more foreign than any Star Trek planet. A beautiful place. Should net a cool 20 likes for the Facebook album. Not bad for a social media dinosaur such as myself. I look at the people in the background of my photos, wonder if I’m in some Japanese guy’s America Facebook album. I tell myself that people online will admire me because I traveled to a place and took amateur smartphone photos while there. They will equate the city’s charm with me, because I was there. I am international rogue and their gravity does not apply to me.


Until it does apply. At some point you gotta fly back from whence you came. And Seoul burned us up as we re-entered the atmosphere. The nicest place in Korea is Incheon International Airport and it was all downhill once we left it. Got into my villa where it was -9 Celsius and the pipes had burst. Toilet was a block of ice. 24 cold hours waiting for the engineer to come. 24 hours in The Homelessness Simulation Experience. Had to pay the worker a king’s ransom to get back to the comforts of the 21st century. The school I work for owns my place and I asked them to pay for repairs; they told me to go fuck myself. And just like that, I’m back on the boss’s dick.



Author: Fred Colton

Fred is just another guy online.

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