THE FRIENDLY TUK TUK DRIVER
September 4th 2011 08:27
The next day, we went shopping. There are all sorts of shops in all sorts of places in Bangkok. There are markets, there are peddlers, there are shopping centres and shopping malls; one mall that we went to, MBK, had seven storeys of countless things and things and things for sale. We bought some Rolling Stones shirts and a few albums and a Thai edition of FHM and some eggs that we thought we could cook and a helicopter thing and a bag thing and a bath thing and some cigarette things and some fake shoes that didn’t fit anyone.
“Where do all these things go after they get used?” I asked the receptionist.
“Where does all your shit go after it gets used, Dean?”
“I bury it all in the backyard.”
“Everything in the world has a price. And everything in this world has been sold before.”
“I’m hung over.”
We were tired so we left the building. The receptionist pointed at something in the distance that she called a tuk tuk: a three-wheeled motor vehicle that sort of looks like a motorbike with an extra compartment attached to it for passengers to sit in. Here’s a photo I took while we rode it:
We thought it’d be a fun novelty ride, but we were wrong. The driver, who was quite friendly to begin with, kept asking us if we wanted to go to a tiger show.
“We’ve been to one already,” I said. “And it was kinda fucked up. Thanks.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because I can take you there and you don’t have to pay for me to get in. I can just wait in the parking lot.”
“We’ve been there before.”
“Alright, how about a temple tour? I give you my number and my friends’ numbers and we can take you and your beautiful girlfriend for a temple tour. It's really cheap. I'm a great tour guide.”
“No, we just want to get to Silom, thanks.”
He slowed down the tuk tuk and faced us, an angry look on his face. “I can show you to bar. I can show you to many places. This is your first time here, right?”
“We’re okay, thanks.”
“Are you sure?”
This “Are you sure?” and “We’re fine, thanks,” business went on for about ten more minutes until the driver finally slowed down next to a car park. “Listen,” he said, irritated by the fact that we just wanted to return to our hotel and nothing else. “You’re new here. I’ll show you around. I’ll give you a temple tour. I show you all over Bangkok. I know people. We can go tiger show. I won’t charge too much.”
“Fuck off!” The receptionist screamed, throwing a shopping bag with the shoes we bought at him. I handed him a wad of money and we hopped off and walked away as he yelled for us to come back.
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