{"id":358,"date":"2008-05-31T22:03:20","date_gmt":"2008-05-31T14:03:20","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/chekyang.com\/musings\/?p=358"},"modified":"2008-05-31T22:03:20","modified_gmt":"2008-05-31T14:03:20","slug":"bangkok-by-metre","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.chekyang.com\/musings\/2008\/05\/31\/bangkok-by-metre\/","title":{"rendered":"Bangkok by Metre"},"content":{"rendered":"

Use a metered cab\u2014make sure it is metered!<\/em><\/p>\n

This is obviously good advice. And like most good advice I\u2019ve received throughout my life, I chose to ignore it. At the Bangkok airport, taxi stand in sight, I ducked through the revolving doors and toward the pavement. Within two seconds I felt like the prettiest girl at the prom. But these people didn\u2019t want to dance, nor did they want to admire my bright, shining smile . . .<\/p>\n

\u201c500-baht!\u201d shouted one man, placing his outstretched palm so close to my face that I read his future. It was thus: You will not be receiving my 500-baht in this lifetime.<\/p>\n

A less anxious man next to him quoted the same figure, adding, \u201cWhere you wanna\u2019 go?\u201d<\/p>\n

I pulled out my printed sheet with the picture of my destination. \u201cAsia Hotel, please.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat? No way!\u201d He and the anxious man laughed, their entire bodies jiggling with glee. It was the kind of laugh that slaps you right in your face. \u201cThat too far. I lose money for sure. Now for 800-baht, I take you to hotel.\u201d<\/p>\n

I tried to act like I\u2019d done this before. \u201c800-baht is too much.\u201d I looked on as the Singaporeans who had flown with me jetted off in metred taxis. Meanwhile the two men rattled off a number of figures, each an attempt to justify their price. I pretended not to listen. After flipping on my sunglasses I began to proceed on.<\/p>\n

They followed, but a third man equipped with a clipboard stepped up. \u201c700-baht and I take you to your hotel. Have nice taxi just for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

“Huh?”<\/p>\n

The man drew a “7” with his finger. “700-baht.”<\/p>\n

\u201cNo thanks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour hotel is so far away, much further than other places, plus there is huge airport charge. 600-baht is low as can go.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFunny, because I hear metered taxis go lower. Oh,\u201d I said, looking forward, \u201cthere\u2019s one now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWait, sir. They very slow. My taxis treat you right.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTreat me right for 500-baht.\u201d<\/p>\n

The man looked exasperated. \u201cCome this way please; 500-baht.\u201d<\/p>\n

Pleased with my first haggle, though aware that clearly I was being played whether I liked to think so or not, I agreed. I followed the man and his scribble-addled clipboard across the departures traffic where upon he passed an invisible baton to an older man who I was then to follow. Already this was less fun than I imagined it. Into the trunk of the man\u2019s Volvo did my suitcase go, with me following likewise into the rear passenger seat.<\/p>\n

One wonderful feature of this car was the pristine, untarnished seat buckles. This made perfect sense when I noticed there were no seat belts to accompany them. It turned out not to be an issue. The man drove slower than paint dries whereas I had always heard the reverse was true of Bangkok cabbies. But he was an amiable chap. He mentioned that before long a train would be built connecting the airport to the city proper. \u201cWhen comes, I no good anymore,\u201d he said, chuckling at the prospect. \u201cI look for another job already!\u201d<\/p>\n

I finally arrived at my hotel, a little later than I presumed but no worse the wear. And I had conducted my first bit of haggling, regardless of being royally screwed. At least it was consensual. But a larger problem loomed: the word was out that I could be easily had. Every hoodlum, trickster, and money-grubber in Bangkok was on notice. During my first jaunt out from the hotel I was confronted by a heavily tattooed man in his 50s, cigarette dangling from his mouth, who claimed to be raising money for the Boy Scouts of Thailand; a young woman who praised my watch and then claimed she had access to expensive jewelry for very cheap (\u201cBuy now cheap and soon resale value go higher!\u201d); and a dapper-looking fellow wearing an Alfred Dunhill leather caf\u00e9 racer jacket who didn\u2019t really need my money but, hey, if the stupid Caucasian was just giving<\/em> it away, why not give it a try?<\/p>\n

\"I<\/p>\n

I could take no more: I needed a disguise:<\/p>\n

This would have to do.<\/p>\n

Not! This outfit would only attract more attention\u2014and the kind I definitely didn\u2019t need. But this goes to show what lengths I’m willing to go to just for a cheap laugh . . . or a cheap cry\u2014<\/span>you decide.<\/p>\n

Speaking of which, I came across several transvestites during my stay. This isn\u2019t an entirely uncommon thing to see in the United States, even in the more conservative Midwest region in which I live. One difference, however, is that the transvestites in Bangkok give the women a run for their money. Thai people are generally quite attractive but, darling<\/em>, their transvestites are simply duh-vine.<\/p>\n

But though Thai-trannies are the more attractive and hygiene-conscious, I\u2019m positive Ameri-trans could whip the mother-lovin\u2019 crud out of them in a fair fight. I say that because in a fight between real women, I always bet on the one with hairy legs.<\/p>\n

Yet never did I run into a prostitute. Or, rather, never did a prostitute make herself known to me by way of a proposition. I\u2019ll admit disappointment. I had tons of witty verbal comebacks planned for just an occasion but alas they never had the opportunity to be sprung forth. I guess I’ll have to save the witticisms for when the next time a stray dog attempts to hump my leg.<\/p>\n

However, the bright and amiable schoolchildren of Bangkok definitely knew how to rock:<\/p>\n

\"The<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Use a metered cab\u2014make sure it is metered! This is obviously good advice. And like most good advice I\u2019ve received throughout my life, I chose to ignore it. At the Bangkok airport, taxi stand in sight, I ducked through the<\/p>\n

Read More Bangkok by Metre<\/span><\/a><\/div>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-358","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-ang-mo","wpcat-4-id"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.chekyang.com\/musings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/358","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.chekyang.com\/musings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.chekyang.com\/musings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.chekyang.com\/musings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.chekyang.com\/musings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=358"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.chekyang.com\/musings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/358\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.chekyang.com\/musings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=358"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.chekyang.com\/musings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=358"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.chekyang.com\/musings\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=358"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}