Whereas I’m ecstatic you’re visiting my country, buddy, I’m finding your current preparations alarmingly inefficient. It really sucks I won’t be around to show you the ins and outs of American lifestyle, but let’s go over some things you’ll need to acquire or keep in mind:
#1: A gun permit.
Don’t think the US is like Singapore. Here there is no “face”, but there is respect, and to get it, you’ll need to pack heat. Don’t worry about smuggling a pistol into the country; I’m pretty sure on the West Coast handguns are sold for pocket-change in most street-side vending machines.
Actually, forget the permit—no one bothers with those anyway. Most Americans simply believe they’re born with the right to bear arms and use them at will. Just be aware that everyone around you at any given moment—yes, even that obnoxious 8-year-old who won’t stop kicking the back of your chair—is carrying a handgun of some kind, and is just waiting for an excuse to use it.
#2: Perfect “flipping the bird” or “giving the finger.”
In Singapore I can’t tell you how many times I witnessed pathetic and placid extensions of middle fingers (most often directed at taxi drivers and motorcyclists). Such meekness only confuses us. If you can’t even make a red crayon blush, why bother?
When in America, you must put your whole body into the upward thrust of the middle finger, during which you shout, “No, you mofo, f**k you!” Don’t be bashful. They will appreciate the fact you’re shoving only an upright finger in their face rather than the hand-cannon you’re no doubt carrying.
#3: Bulletproof Vest.
See #1. Duh.
#4: Pedestrian caution.
Don’t think just because you’re walking on a sidewalk or street curb that you’re not a target—trust me, you are. You see, to American drivers who not only own the streets, but also the curbs, sidewalks, park trails, hotel lobbies, et cetera, there’s no such things as pedestrians, just trespassers. It’s not a question of if you’ll be mowed over, it’s a question of when and how long it will take the paramedics to arrive to scrape up your remains with a rusty spatula.
It’s not all doom and gloom, though. Assuming you wish to get out of your hotel room to inhale the carbon-monoxide and take in the clouds of smog blanketing the cityscape, travel among fat people. As over two-thirds of Americans are morbidly obese, you often won’t have a choice. Not only will you benefit from a boost in self-esteem, but you’ll also find that most vehicles, even when traveling at full-speed, will ricochet of the fat people’s “belly bumpers.” So yes, safe walking routes in the US consist primarily of ducking into each and every donut shop along the way to your destination, but that’s the price of security in this country.
If you should ever get behind the wheel, try this pop quiz:
When proceeding down the highway, you come to a traffic light which has just turned from yellow to red. What do you do?
a) Red means stop; apply the brake and come to a full stop.
b) Red means yield; apply the brake gently and proceed with caution.
c) Red is merely a suggestion; honk horn repeatedly and apply full weight to the accelerator.
If you have to ask, the answer is C. If you’re afraid you can’t remember this little tidbit, reminders abound at every pedestrian crossing in the United States.
#5: Bring a self-addressed & stamped body bag.
You might be asking yourself why this is necessary since all this laid before you is an attempt to enjoy your time in America, not to mention save your life. Well, as our national slogan goes, “Shit happens.”
This is so scary, Matt! I wished Yang didn’t agree to go to San Francisco :(
Alamak; it’s tongue in cheek, dear LOL.:)
I don’t know, buddy. Ling, it sounds like Yang is already well on the way to a lifestyle of the hardened criminal. Haven’t you heard that smuggling Milo through customs only leads to bigger things? : )
Duh, he’s going to declare the milo lah. Scare poor me.
Haha. : ) It’s a good thing I declared the bak kwa you and Yang sent back with me; the customs agent confiscated it, but I talked him into allowing me to eat it right there. I was completely stuffed, but it was either that or make a mad run for it. There was no way I was going to let all that bak kwa go to waste.