The Fanta and the damage done....

Romania is a funny, funny place...
It has that 1970 vibe, you know the kind, with smoking in restaurants, bars, the post office... Everything is falling apart and dying, much worse than Budapest...

There is the wonderful Borat style horse and buggy mode of transporation along the rural roads... Gypsy colonies border the rail way... Transient dogs rule the streets and howl in the night... This is Brasov, Transylvania...

I took an 11 hour train ride from Budapest to Brasov. It was dark when I arrived, complete with a full moon behind a film of autumn haze. The dogs were running amuck with bloated bellies and a listles look in their eyes, barking, BARKING, at the moon.

I was in my typical dress, tee shirt and shorts, with a 50lb bag on my back. This is my costume. I am the tourist. I stick out horribly. Europeans do not wear shorts at night, or even during the day.

Europeans are in a league of their own and I have a story to go along with this open ended observation...

They are insane. No logic, no ability to see the right in the wrong. These people, Eastern Europeans, live to scam the tourist out of an honest dollar. It's in their blood, it's how they are made to think. How to fuck the idiot. I guess it is the same in North America but the one doing the fucking is more of a snake hiding in the grass. No, the Eastern European, the Romanian, the Gypsy is a house of cards, a powder keg, a line of dominos... They are just waiting for the tourist to move the wind, strike the match or push the erect black and white monolith just to watch the production that ensues...

I wanted a Fanta orange drink the bus stop.. I opened the door and a sucktioned cupped shelf fell off of the door window. The cans hit the ground with a horrible thud... 6 full aluminum cans of energy dirnks fell all over the road... two of them exploded... this Romanian woman came out screaming in her dialect.. I just wanted a Fanta... I said i was sorry but the sucktion cups gave way under the weight of their own full cans... I tried telling her this rational logic but she kept screaming... So i left for a new booth to get a fanta...

She followed me and took my toque right off my head and marched back to her both..I was astonished... I got this toque for free but yet it was the a solid piece of Canadian Identity... it was a part of me... it was a badge of Canadian honour... and she took it... right off my head.... I acted like i didnt care but then I went back to her booth... an old man opened his wallet and showed me some ID...i think he wanted me to think he was a cop.. I told him "this means nothing to me"

Then the sh*thit the fan.. people were surrounding me... ugly people... a Romanian gang mentality... I asked for my toque back but this Vender kept yelling at me in her high pitched dialect.. I tried to leave, thinking that my toque was lost, cut my losses, give up the ghost and leave it alone... but this short fat romanian woman was not letting me leave..she spoke up... I was in a den of wolves hungry for revenge on the foreigner... The fat lady made some obscure sign with her finger pointing to her cheek... the old phony cop grabbed my arm... they wanted blood... and I wanted out...

I started my own offensive.. I got vocal..i started to swear. and I told them that this was a dirty trick... I pulled out my wallet..i was defeated.. I handed over 6 Lei, the price of an energy drink... close to 3 CND dollars... but she was screaming about a second drink, one which I had not noticed, that was broken... I protested Even more... but I caved in and gave them 12 Lie...

When It ended you could tell who had won... all these Romanian spectators... ganging up on a tourist.. who wanted a fanta orange drink...

I got my toque back... put it on my head, and turned to leave... but i got in the last word, along with a final laugh from all those English tourists who sat back and watched my martyrdom... I started to walk away...

"Are you happy you god damned Gypsies! You can all keep sucking on Dracula's ****"

Sure it was crude, but after 5 minutes of adrenalined passion it was the only thing I could think of in the moment... but, like I said..It generated a good chuckle from those who watched me die...

The moral of the Story is, Everyone is a Gypsy... they will bleed you for what you've got... they will take your money, and wound your pride and slip into the dark, cold Carpanthian Mountains...

I want to go back there today and see her again to get my revenge...