I knew today was gonna be a good day. Not only am I down to the final 48 hours before leave but I opened the bathroom stall this morning to find that the guy before me had actually flushed. A good omen and an unexpected reminder that civilization exists somewhere. With that uplifting start to my day my journalistic furnace is fully stoked. Let’s see what kind of KAF awesomeness I’ll be unmissing while I’m at home. But first…here’s a sign I defy you to understand:
To Serve and Perplex
As you may have gathered from previous posts, the International Military Police are out in force defending freedom one traffic ticket at a time. Well, DN got one the other day. It wasn’t for “failing to stop at a stop sign” but for “failing to stop at a stop sign for 3 seconds”. Yeah, apparently there’s a rule here that you have to stop for a full 3 seconds at any stop sign….well, at least that’s what the IMPs would have you believe.
Those of you unfortunate enough to have waded through the “I got a fucking ticket in KAF” bureaucracy, will be familiar with the IMP shack user-hostile set up, however I’ll explain it for the law-abiding folks. On the left, there’s a guy sitting behind a plexiglass window behind a sign that says “Don’t you dare ask me about tickets, use the fucking phone”…or something like that. On the right, there’s one of those stable doors that allows for a wicket type thingy if you open just the top. It’s always closed. There’s a sign that says “Do not knock on this door, asshole. Use the fucking phone” …or a similar sentiment.
Well, upon reporting to the IMP shack to settle the ticket, there was an MP at the half-door wicket thingy dealing with two people on another matter. When he finished with them I ventured “Hi, we have a ticket to settle”. “Use the phone” he snapped and closed the door. I called three times but no one answered the phone so I then dared to speak to the guy behind the plexglass.
“Hi, no one’s answering the phone for tickets. Do you know if he’s in?”
“Just a minute”. He disappeared for a minute or two, came back and said “He’s not available right now.”
“Any idea how long he’ll be?”
“Umm…can you at least tell me if it’s gonna be like 5 minutes or 5 hours?”
“Hmm…so the sign that says 1000-1300 isn’t actually true then?”
“You can wait if you want.”
So we waited.
The guy showed up about 10 minutes later. It was the same one that almost made D’s head explode the other day but to give him credit, he was actually a lot more pleasant than last time. As we handed him DN’s ticket, I mentioned that I had never heard of the 3 second stop rule before.
“That’s what the law is back in the States too”
“Huh, well, I’m from Canada and we don’t put up with that kinda shit. We just have to come to a complete stop”.
Well, my subsequent investigation failed to turn up any reference to this 3 second rule in the applicable COMKAF SOP and the interwebs tells me that this isn’t a law in the US of A either. Believe it or not, IMPs, enforcing made-up laws can piss people off.
So DN and MM (who got a speeding ticket) both attended the KAF Driving Course. It was all of 45 minutes long and “we learned that bicycle safety is very important…but they never mentioned a fucking 3 second rule”.
Lest you think all my co-workers are wild-eyed daredevils cruising along at breakneck speed in excess of 20kph, I want to recognize DK’s cycling skills. He’s so good that an IMP called out “Very good use of hand signals” to him over his car’s loudspeaker. See, DK understands that “bicycle safety is very important”…especially if you’ve noticed the IMP car cruising along behind you.
I loved this sight on a road in Southpark. The were cleaning up all the dust and sand from the roadway. If it were me, I would have loaded the truck from the upwind side. Just sayin’.
I so wanted to get a picture of the crane that had smashed into the back of a bus in that same stretch of road a couple of days ago but the IMPs directing traffic would likely have taken offence if I drove by with IPod in hand. How the fuck does a crane hit a bus in a 20kph zone? Hell, the cranes usually don’t get above 10-15 kph. Anyway, I’m sure I found it all more amusing than the Afghan crane operator I saw standing dejectedly beside his machine.
We accidentally went to Steak Night at IH last week. M was disappointed that the serving guy gave him one that was submerged in the inch of grease in the tray. He felt slightly better when I informed him that mine, while initially high and dry, was swabbed through the grease by the server before he slapped it on my plate. Some sort of fancy culinary “plating”, I suppose. Not surprisingly, the meat was, once again, “suspiciously tender”. While M and I wondered what chemical could cause this worrying consistency, MC, recently back from a two year hiatus out of KAF, suggested that “leaving them out in the sun all day would do that.” Yes, yes it would.
When it comes to dessert around here, you can’t really do much better than Cambridge (although Far East is a close second). They consistently have 2-3 really good options. The strawberry thingy back on 29 June that appeared to have been made in house was particularly good…despite JB’s contention that “the strawberries taste like they’ve been frozen”. Fuck, sorry princess.
Tonight they had something called Choux Buns…pastry filled with custard…that were also, presumably, made in the DFAC and tasted great. They must have someone with pastry chef experience back in the kitchen.
Of course, you realize Cambridge, that this wouldn’t be JustDFACS if I didn’t lob a couple of complaints your way as well. So, what the hell is with that Semiya crap you keep putting out there? I’ve told you before what I thought of it…and it was not good but I really can’t capture its nastiness better than the US servicewoman I warned off it last week: “I just looked at it and got a rumble in my tummy.”
And, both M and I are very concerned about your vanilla ice cream. You seem to have largely solved the unmeltability issue, but what the hell is that aftertaste? We can’t quite place it but M’s suggestion that it may be ice cream machine sanitizer is one of the least disturbing possibilities.
Pro-tip, Cambridge: Cauliflower Au Gratin should at least taste like cauliflower or cheese, if not both. Making it taste like unflavoured gelatin, while a neat parlour trick, doesn’t make the grade.
Let me end on a high note for Cambridge. For the first time since I got here lo so many years ago, I saw liver, onions and bacon on a DFAC menu. Yes, I know many of you likely don’t enjoy liver…but fuck you, you’re wrong. Cambridge cooked it almost perfectly which is hard to do when making a lot. The “bacon”, of course, was that funky British shit…but otherwise, well done!
M and I ate at the Far East a few times over the past week or so. I’m not usually enamoured of the food on the steam line but the stir fry continues to be a very good go to meal. I would recommend to the stir fry dude, however, that he may want to crush the Star Anise a little bit before dumping it in. Chomping down on one of these bad boys in a forkful of stir fry was not the highlight of my day.
Hey, I ate this at Far East. You should too. It was good. I don’t know what it was:
I don’t expect complete uniformity of colour in fresh orange juice…the type of oranges used, their ripeness, the weather during the growing season could all contribute to variations in hue. But, we all know that Tang is made in a factory and oranges are only peripherally involved, if at all, in the manufacturing process. This shot taken at the Monti or IH (I can’t fucking remember) causes me great concern and makes me think General Foods’ ISO 9000 certification should be reviewed.
While it could just be a typo, I like to think Northline was messing with the Christians’ heads when they put this on the menu.
As a Nova Scotian, I found myself wanting to side with my fellow bluenoser, MN, as he debated Atlantic vs. Pacific salmon with that hardcore British Columbia fanboy, M…but…an argument which has degenerated to “Well, at least we don’t have little whiny salmon that just swim up and die” is not one to which I want to be a party.
The Dubai airport Irish Pub had better be open during Ramadan.
“I ain’t gonna miss a thing”- John Michael Carroll