Tulsa and then some...

Flying to Tulsa or as my Australian friends like to call it …’Tulser’ is always a bittersweet experience.  First off… before I explain I would like to know why Australians aren’t able to pronounce the “Aw” sound at the end Tulsa. They always put an “ER” at the end of it. It doesn’t make sense. They don’t have a problem saying their own country’s name. Last time I checked it wasn’t pronounced Erstralia. Oh well, I still have love for the Australians but at the same time I don’t think I will ever understand them.  Another interesting thing I’ve learned about Australians is their love for the Outback Steakhouse. I know what you’re thinking… yeah right! That place is so fake and not even close to being an authentic Australian experience.  Wrong! The reason why Australians love the Outback Steakhouse is because they serve lamb chops. Australians love their lamb chops! They also love the Outback Steakhouse because everyone treats them like the freaking Godfather.  They always get the best seat in the house. (One of the giant circular tables…Australians love circular tables) Once they open their mouths to order the whole entire place stops like a record and women and men swoon over to their table like star gazed teeny boppers. Then the stories begin. “Oh..the real outback is treacherous. I once got caught in vicious dirt storm where all I had to eat was the meat of a half-eaten dead wallaby.  I was stranded for months until this female American journalist from New York found me. That’s why I’m here in America. “ And they believe ever word.  Haven’t they ever seen Crocodile Dundee? That’s the exact same plot line. Oh…You Australians. You think you are sooo cute with your silly accent and good-day mate charm. Like I said before… I love you but I just won’t ever get you. Anyways…My flight to Tulsa was bittersweet. I sat next to a person that kept on spilling their cracker dust onto my lap. It was annoying. Since I’m famous I wear dark Prada sunglasses at all times with a hoodie pulled over my head.  But that still doesn’t stop Oklahomans from asking if I’m some fancy movie star. “Aren’t you that fellow that plays in that one show about the seventies??... what’s that show called Maureen? That 70’s show dear. That’s right! Are you that Foreigner that talks funny… what’s his name… oh shoot….. oh….. Pez!  Long story short… The reason why my flight to Tulser was bittersweet was not because I was accused of being a lisp speaking movie star but because I drank some nasty warm old Milwaukee beer with chewing tobacco, which I thought was my apple juice. I guess my new Oklahoman friend thought it would be funny to switch my drink with his while I was napping.  I quickly spit the drink out and looked at the toothless Oklahoman in rage and furry!!! “Want a piece of gum?” The Oklahoman asked with an innocent childlike smile. I said, “Why sure kind sir aint that sweet of you. We exchanged emails and now are best friends.

 

Joey