Skip to main content

Five minutes

I try to urinate every hour. Usually this lasts from 56 past to 57 past the hour. My bladder knows when it is time to go, at 50 past it is getting prepared, by 54 past it is positively bursting. In the izakayas of Tokyo my name is called aloud for its slow steady stream.

In these times my life is compartmentalised into five minute windows. Sometimes I cook eggs, mostly I make toast. If I'm feeling daring I might run to the spätkauf (the corner store), but a queue there causes the mission to buy snacks to be abandoned. If I'm feeling organised I will eat cold Vietnamese takeaway food that I bought earlier that day, giving a rueful look to my broken microwave.

At midnight I start to wonder if I will finish work before the good kebab shop closes. By 1:30 I know that only the crap one will still be open. At weekends there is the late night bakery and one can always walk in search of falafel. On a good night in the summer the birds begin to sing. When the sunlight starts peeking through I know I am up late enough to probably be making some money.

When playing online poker tournaments you receive a five minute break every hour. At the moment I am in the United States where playing online poker is illegal. Therefore I cannot work.

My life is now composed of hours comprising 60 minutes rather than five, but somehow I achieve less.

The sense of urgency is replaced by inertia. The sense focus replaced by a muddy confusion.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Life in Tokyo: Days 1 and 2

For no apparent reason, I'm spending a month in Tokyo. I feel really lucky to be able to take a random trip like this to somewhere I have never been before and thought I may never get the chance to go to. I got a great deal on a flight from Birmingham to Tokyo via Amsterdam and everything goes well. I get my vegan meal on the plane (trust me, go vegan when you fly, you always get extra salad and fruit, plus you always get your meal first which is my favourite thing ever!). I get to Watch The Social Network again and it is just as good second time around. Arriving sleepy in Tokyo, I have the friendliest bag search of my entire life, with the customs guy laughing at everything I say and my four guidebooks, as he inspects my bag thoroughly. He is highly amused by the six Dairy Milk chocolate bars that I have brought along to give to people I meet or stay with. When I arrive in the US I am always tired and scared of saying the wrong thing and being turned away or getting back roomed, b...

Casa de Scaffolding

Portugal is one of my favourite travel and poker destinations, but I have a terrible record of booking accommodation there. During the first time I had played beach volleyball, I received a recommendation of somewhere to stay in Lisbon. Firstly let me say, don't play beach volleyball. It really hurts your hands and you get sand in your face a lot. On my ill adjudged foray into this sandy and painful game, I got talking to my team mate and mentioned I was about to go to Lisbon. "I know a great place to stay" she assured me. We chatted further between points and as I had no writing device to hand, I made a mental note of the B&B she strongly urged me to stay in Lisbon - Casa de Hospedes . It sounded great and just up my street. A couple of days later, with the trip approaching, I still hadn't booked anything. I remembered the beach volleyball tip. A quick google and it popped up straight away. I had a personal recommendation and it was very reasonably priced so ...

This ain't Vegas

"I've always thought there was something really dirty about that girl" says the semi-well known British pro in seat ten to nobody in particular, as an attractive female casino employee walks past. The World Series of Poker is getting under way in Las Vegas. The best players in the world along with thousands of wannabees to play for astronomical sums of money and a chance for a shot at fame and glory. But I'm not there. I'm in Walsall, deep in the heart of the Black Country, playing a £100 freezeout . And to be fair, there's a pretty big turnout for a Bank Holiday Monday - 165 runners makes it a tournament worth winning for sure. I'm here with my friend Joe, somewhat of a veteran of these casino crapshoot tournaments, having spent his time in the trenches in Coventry, Birmingham and *gulp* Dudley. Sadly for Joe, he busts within the first half hour and after doing half my stack to the aforementioned known pro when I flop two pair with 4-5 suited and relucta...