I am not amused

I need me an Oompa Loompa. I'm not kidding. I had a think about it. I need an Oompa Loompa (the Tim Burton kind) who will do a nifty song and dance when someone I know starts behaving like an ass. And then I'll sick the squirrels on 'em.

C (my fiance) and his oldest friend were in town from England for the engagement party. Getting to the actual engagement party was a comedy of errors. Does anyone recall the mess that was New York City traffic this past Saturday night? God was having a laugh at you if you were in a car that night.

After ditching our stagnant cab for the train, I was huffing and puffing up and down the escalators and through underground tunnels at the Citicorp station. Remember me? I was the pissed off chick in the halter neck dress, with the hair and makeup done, giving Marion Jones a run for her money in stiletto heels.

It was not so much I was pissed about the traffic that was making us late for our own party, but we were baby-sitting C's friend- a 34 year old grown man. Escorting him door to door on the day of our engagement party. Said man claimed he would get lost if we left him to his own devices to get from Gramercy to Nolita, just so C and I could be a little more on time for our party. A man who insisted he would get lost on the way, because he was too cheap to fork over the money for a taxi to get from point A to point B. And he's looking at me, making me feel like the asshole. Where was my Oompa Loompa when I needed him?

My first day in Beijing, armed with a map and relying only on the phonetically spelled street signs in English, I crossed the city on foot alone. I wandered from the touristy parts through the slums, where human filth lay in the street and the air stunk to high heaven. You know this smell if you've wandered to less travelled parts of NYC's Chinatown. I eventually ended up in the center of the expatriate community, where the travellers and diplomats hung out.

I had no guide telling me how to do this, I read up a little beforehand and then figured it out as I went. I was a 26 year old, white, American woman in a foreign, Communist country, where I did not speak the language. Was it a little bit stupid? Maybe, but do not tell me you can't make it 20 blocks south and two avenues over by yourself in New York City.

This is a warning. Next time, I start invoking your name, singing and dancing the Funky Robot in the street. I'll be going Oompa on your ass.