- - - - - - - - - - T A B L E_T A L K Riders share their experiences and thoughts on traveling by motorcycle in the Wanderlust area of Table Talk R E C E N T L Y Flying away By Gary Kamiya Triumph on the slopes -- and parties all night long (02/19/98) Scalpers, skiers and cultural schizophrenia By Cintra Wilson Our woman in Nagano checks out deluxe slopeside port-o-lets, "child hornet" snacks and other Olympic oddities (02/19/98) Cold war By Gary Kamiya The Czechs battle the Russians on ice (02/18/98) The Christlike and redemptive powers of ice hockey By Cintra Wilson Our second Salon correspondent in Nagano reflects on Olympic evolution, personality cults and Russian mafiosi (02/18/98) Plastered in Nagano By Koya Ide Olympics sponsors' ads are everywhere (02/17/98) Browse the Feature archives		I C E F O L L I E S________ I SOLD MY SOUL TO THE SCALPERS TO WATCH MECHANIZED SUPER-TEENS MICHELLE AND TARA KISS ASS? Surya Bonaly of France competes in the women's short program at the White Ring Arena during the 1998 Olympic Winter Games in Nagano, Japan. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - BY CINTRA WILSON | NAGANO, Japan -- To get into the figure skating short program, I had to go head to head with the scalpers. I had all these tickets to trade -- excessive hockey, a bunch of slaloms, some biathlon and a pricey little admit for the Closing Ceremonies, where children with big animal heads and mittens would sing the goddamn Olympic song another 50,000 times, thereby sealing it in mankind's mind forever. It was reported in the papers that the police were going to crack down on the scalpers starting yesterday, so I was foolishly worried that I would not be able to find one. But there they were just like always, loud and porn-theater hawker-esque as ever in the Nagano train station, giving large theatrical shrugs of "Wha'? Who, me?" whenever one of the small, ironed policemen politely approached them to knock it off. These men are, without exception, the sleaziest, most wholly detestable pack of carrion-sucking hyenas that most Japanese people will ever lay eyes on. Since the Japanese mob, the Yakuza, is conspicuously absent from the Olympics, the scalpers are the only fishy criminal element in our midst here in scrupulously moral and honest Nagano, but they make up for that by being top-seeded crass, charmless motherfuckers. I wanted to see the ladies' skating, preferably the long free skating program on Friday night, but when I told any of them this, they just started laughing at me. Those tickets are getting over 100,000 yen (about $800) now on the black market, they informed me, often up to $5,000. I tried to bargain and wheel and deal with the rangy, death-toothed young men, whose fathers must have sold and repossessed carpeting to immigrants with bad credit for a living. I tried to trade up my excellent hockey tickets, but they would have none of it. They called me "Rusty" or "Yankee," and made sexist comments and tried to kiss me or pinch my cheeks. I jerked back like a cobra at one such swipe, and one of them said, "Watch out, she's from New York, she'll probably lay you out," and I realized I was in some kind of red-eyed state of rage and a preliminary Kung-Fu stance. "You're nauseating," I murmured back at them, and they all laughed. That was my reconnaissance mission. I was so infuriated, I decided I needed to go back several hours later and see if the guard had changed. I did find out some valuable information though; the 26,000 yen ($210) hockey ticket I had for tonight was now only worth about 10 bucks, because Canada would be playing Kazakhstan, and that would be a throw-away game, the best against the worse. The Canucks would just mercilessly worry the Kazakhs like so many chew-toys, and this was a foregone conclusion -- nobody was terribly interested in viewing toddlers get skewered. My 5,600 yen ($45) men's skiing ticket, however, had jumped up to 20,000, which made it a viable bargaining tool. I also found out that the women's figure skating short program was that night, during the hockey game, and that the few remaining tickets were going for 40,000 yen. I hung out for a couple of hours, fuming. I figured that scalping zones must be a little like the trading floor of the New York Stock Exchange: In a couple of hours, a ticket might be more important than it was previously. As it turned out, I made another swipe at the one skunk, the most offensive, oily hair-coated dog boy, who had actually been holding the skating tickets. I leveled with him. I fanned out my tickets and said "Which of these?" To my surprise, he wanted men's skiing (great for me; I wasn't exactly psyched to wake up at 6 a.m. and ludicrously hike up the mountain again) and my ticket to the Closing Ceremonies, for escaping which I cried tears of thanks to Jesus. The Up With People vibe is intolerable to me in any language, no matter how many tissue elves it may include. Besides, it was going to be held outdoors. Much better to view that fiasco on the TV of some nice alcoholic hotel lobby. So I did it. I got into a figure skating event. N E X T+P A G E+| Personality? You lose points for that PHOTOGRAPH BY CLIVE BRUNSKILL/ALLSPORT Archived images are provided by Allsport Photography USA, Inc. all rights reserved, any redistribution, resale, re-print or other use is strictly prohibited without written consent from Allsport Photography USA, Inc. directly.