20050720

Day at the races not this is, hmm?

When I went to pick up Kenobi yesterday, he said he wasn't feeling well, that he had started feeling ill the night before and couldn't go.

I was not happy, but I decided I could try to sell my extra ticket at the Speedway. I tried to get there early. Everyone else got the same idea, unfortunately, including a large security delegation from the Empire. It took me some time to find a place to park and get to the entrance.

With all the security around (the like of which I had never seen at the Speedway before), I was afraid I would be arrested for scalping tickets, so I went to the box office to see if they would refund one ticket. Judging by the number of apparently ticketless people milling around, I thought it would be okay.

It was okay. In fact, it was surprisingly easy, except I had to wait in line. The attendant took my ticket and handed me the cash as if she'd been expecting me. Then she apologized for the inconvenience!

I thought that was odd, since refunds are usually difficult, especially for single tickets. Then I noticed that the line behind me had gotten a lot longer during the short time that I had been there. And there were a lot of kids crying. It seemed a little early in the day for that. Usually, the crying doesn't start until the kids see how bad the view is from their seats.

I knew my seat wasn't going to be so great either, but I was eager to get to it, especially now that I had extra cash in hand for drinks and snacks. I headed towards the gate, where a bunch of white-armored Empire whatchamacallems were patting people down. I'd never seen that before. I wondered if this was a new thing, or if it was just something they were doing this one time because of a high-ranking visitor or something. I mean, there's no shortage of people who would like to kill the Hutts at their favorite sporting event, but there's never been an attempt, nor security like this, especially galactic security.

I gave my ticket to the kid at the gate, bracing myself to be frisked by one of those clone people. I didn't really like it, but I knew the nonsense was almost finished and I would soon me sitting in my crummy seat. I didn't expect any problem.

But of course there was a problem. It wouldn't be a day in the life of J. Sandstormer if there wasn't a problem. The kid at the gate squinted at my ticket, turned it over and squinted some more, rotated it, creased the corner with a grubby thumbnail, and showed it to his supervisor, who gave it back to me and said I needed to get a refund. He looked at me suspiciously, since I had obviously just come over from the box office and still had the receipt in my hand. He pointed at a sign, but it was hand-lettered and in Huttese.

I went back to the box office, where the line was now pretty long, and there were more kids crying, and there were vendors selling souvenirs and snacks and drinks to the people waiting in line. Again, I'd never seen that before.

And that's when it dawned on me, finally coming out of my self-absorbed euphoria and listening to some of the conversations going on around me, that these people were not waiting in line to buy their tickets. They were waiting to sell their tickets. There was indeed a high-ranking visitor from the Empire, some lord fancypants or something, and they were clearing out a large section of the stands to make room for this person and his retinue and guards and security and seating comfort.

I couldn't decide whether I felt sorry for this person who was too paranoid to enjoy a simple pod race even on this backwards planet without being surrounded by security, or if I was insulted that this person thought we were all a bunch of assassins, or if I was miffed that this person thought he was so important when in fact no one here had even heard of him before.

Or jealous that he had enough money and clout to pull it off. Not to mention that he was getting to see the pod race and I wasn't.

I got my other ticket refunded and went home. (Got half my parking fee back too. That was more than I had expected.)

I went to Darklighter's this morning, and they had t-shirts, sunburns, and lots of stories. A tall figure in black, probably not human because it was wearing a helmet and a mask with ventilator. Also a cape. (Biggs seemed quite impressed with the cape and wanted one for himself.) Rumor was that his name was Karth Fader and was a special friend of the Emperor's. Kane then corrected himself, saying that the Emperor doesn't have friends as such, but that he thought Fader was a behind-the-scenes leader on a big secret military project and that the big secret military project was the reason that all other technology seemed to have stopped in its tracks after the Republic fell. It was gobbling up all the major engineering and industrial resources.

I assumed Kane got this information from his Hutt friends, and took it with a grain of salt. I mentioned it to Kenobi later, just visiting to see if he felt any better, and Kenobi said, "oh, Darth Vader. That explains a lot. I assume he's gone by now?"

It was phrased like a question, but it sounded more like he was telling me. I said Vader was gone as far as I knew (not that I would know, but I couldn't think of any reason he would have stayed around). Kenobi nodded. Up until then, I had thought Kenobi was feeling better, but now he looked agitated again, and he sent me home with another overpriced can of tea, which Beru assures me can be used to fertilize potting soil.

4 comments:

Mike said...

One day Lord Fader may sense a familiar presence and think back to the Tattooine Speedway where he faintly felt something similar. Then he'll probably disregard his intuition and blame it on nostalgia for pod races and extended video game advertisements in major blockbusters.

J. Sandstormer said...

If we're lucky, maybe he'll get clubbed by a Tusken Raider, or cut in half by a lightsaber. Or maybe just turned away or booed at the next big event he's lucky enough to get tickets to. Big wheezing egotistical cape-wearing imperial jerk. I'm surprised he didn't make all the podracers sign a loyalty oath for Emperor Dumbass. Hmm. Maybe he did. I'll ask Darklighter.

JP Burke said...

Sorry to hear you had to miss that podrace. It's amazing how some people throw their weight around.

J. Sandstormer said...

I'm just glad I didn't have Luke with me. I'm sure he would have been crushed. He's not had much exposure to big egos yet.