The State of Nats #10: Smoke like a travel presenter
[Everything between October 19 and the day of publishing this]
Ha Noi, Vietnam
Data
Flights taken: 2
Books purchased: 3
Books read: 2
New timezones
At 1100 hrs
Today, I am essentially Anthony Bourdain. I am embodying a fake AI slop version of him, millennial, female, perpetually middle class minded, truth-spurting capsule of the sediments of my thoughts. I am a fish out of water, a woman on a mission. I am walking with a sardonic face and a matter-of-factly gait.
The only thing I lack is a cigarette. The only thing I miss is a cigarette.
To add to the general disrespect I have for my health, the pining for a cigarette is at its peak. I have never been a smoker yet crave it between my fingers as I walk in Ha Noi. It feels appropriate here, today, I want to be Bourdain. I want to seamlessly get along with locals, eat flavourful food and rationalise their politics against what I know of my own little world. I want to do things that read good in memoirs, yet leave no lasting impact on my being. I want to feel safe in wandering and taking chances. I want Tony's confidence.
{Incoming message: Sorry, we cannot check you in ahead of schedule.}
At 1200 hrs
I am also a woman with feminine disposition. So, I want a sexy French depression. I want a black dress and a frown for an accessory. A Chanel jacket, a Dior skirt (look at me, putting two rivals together). I want a je ne sais quoi quality. A cigarette while I wear sunglasses in the rain. I want to stroke a cat while I am at it. I want an old lady to approach me and offer me their grandson. I want to say no.
I want to make my version of a Bourdain travel ensemble. A cigarette between my fingers, a city under my feet. Noodles in my belly, a sustained blood alcohol level.
I am being vile, a non-smoker promoting smoking. Yet as an accessory it is the most appropriate. My choice to travel is made possible by only one method, turning hard earned money into ash. The selfishness of "I want to go there and see that and eat this and walk there" is actualised with my arrival in Ha Noi. I am here to consume a country, second time around, and revisit with more vigour than in 2017, when I came a humble and curious being. I have returned ravenous.
Only because I have been awake more of the last 36 hours, I am feeling triumph and fatigue. I want I want I want. I am here to take.
{Email Inbox: The job role you applied for and thought you were suited for is not going to be given to you. Sincerely, corporate.}
At 1300 hours
I am worthless, pathless, career-less, aimless, jobless, dedication-less, crumpled mess of a person. I do not want a cigarette, I AM a cigarette.
At 1355 hours
I am worthless, pathless, career-less, aimless, jobless, dedication-less, crumpled mess of a person. I want a shower.
At 1500 hours
I am hungry.
Culture consumption
I watched Steven Wilson perform live. And I had tears in my eyes when he played Pariah. This is the first concert I have attended with Ru, and it is valuable that was of his favourite musicians. Is any artist worth an evening of inhaling dust? Perhaps yes, when they are beloved by the person you love, and you have the stupid fever of making him happy.
Adventures in selling tickets
I sold three tickets to strangers in this concert. This endeavour was solitary, as the thoughtlessness of the original buyers led to a sunken investment of thousands. Recovery was essential. I used Reddit and Whatsapp to seek interested parties for the concert tickets. Here was the journey and a few noteworthy moments from this pursuit.
- I talked with over 50 people from Reddit and leads from whatsapp sharing by friends in their networks.
- I searched several subreddits where there were mentions of the Steven Wilson concerts to find the right ones for suggesting a sale.
- With Ru's Reddit account and mine, I split the posts into two types of content: Emo prog rock content - Ru's account Sales content - My account The sales content is clean. I have a ticket, here is how you can buy it and a DM would continue the conversation. The emo content, however, was more engagement centric. It always had a sentimental or a situational title with a vague line in the body suggesting a ticket is available for sale. The sale chat was more in the comment section.
- All tickets were sold at cost price. Pretty much everyone was selling at cost price. It was a good vibe.
- All three tickets were sold to people who made the decision quite quickly. Anyone who took longer did not end up making the purchase.
- On one occasion, I posted to Ru's account that he has a single ticket left. Ru (really me) received this message: Can I replace your friend and come along instead? 😬 F, but still. After I mentioned that she could certainly join, me (Ru but me pretending to be Ru) and my wife, after I shared all the details, I got this response: Oh you already have company, I thought you didn't, hence though I could go with someone. Pretty sure spouses don't want random people coming. The conversation went into an awkward territory, where it was soon clear she would come for the concert as a plus one on Ru's "extra" ticket and only with him. She ended the chat with, sure, thanks. She did not purchase the ticket.
- One guy could not come because he could not convince his girlfriend to tag along.
- One guy wanted to buy it but his friends refused, and he did not want to go alone.
- I levelled the playing field by texting the same people seeking tickets from two accounts, sharing the same price to clarify that not only was it indeed the cost price, but it was also a good price to purchase at. I felt like I was flooding the market with two different brand names selling the same product.
- I used my other reddit account to upvote these posts. With at least one downvote expected, this always helped balance the heat.
Once confirmed, and after some contemplation period, the sale process was often complete. People payed the advance, then showed up at the concert and paid the rest. Sweet kind people, rock fans, Steven fans. This was a very wholesome trade.
Additionally
I am reading Mother Mary Comes to Me by Arundhati Roy. Because of this trip, I am parted from the last 100 pages of the book. I finished listening to The House in the Cerulean Sea which was meh and cute at the same time. It is really The Housemaid that captured my imagination, and I devoured it within a day.
The film Pirates of the Carribean: The Curse of the Black Pearl is a nearly-perfect film and has captured my attention. It was an easy watch on a frustrating day.
Pho-ya later
Nats