Bangkok Blues, No I Mean Black!

“All I need is a nice black gel tipped pen Bangkok!! What have you done with all the good ink!?!? Do I have to find a quill and kill my own squid here or what?!”

[Readers note: I was having an odd day. If you’re looking for pictures of Bangkok and exciting descriptions of exotic Thailand, I suggest you move on. This post is mostly about me. Me, me, meeeee, the little piggy who went to market and possibly momentarily and mildly insane.]

So perhaps I’ve manufactured something to stress about in my present no-demands life. Could be. We all have our hang-ups. Today mine happens to be severe writers block due to the inability to find an acceptable writing instrument… or perhaps the fact that I severely judge and reject writing instruments. Yeah, could be that. Well, anyway…

A note about pens: first of all, they have to be black. Period. And really, they must be gel tip. I tried to use this ballpoint pen I found but I just couldn’t do it. Ballpoint pens require you to drag them across the page, pushing the point where it should go. Sometimes they make that faint double line, where the ball has thinned the ink in the center of the mark. I don’t like that. Everyone’s had one of those ballpoints that won’t write because the dirty tip is clotted. I need my pen to bleed freely, not coagulate. Gel pens just flow.

So here goes Day 2 in Bangkok, certainly a rather gluttonous and absurd one…

Awake:  at 7. Tried to bang around a bit and make noise in order to wake my neighbors who were up until 3 a.m. Ordinarily this would be their own business but the rooms at my guest house have a 2 foot air space near the ceiling so we’re all living in virtually one big family room. There is no compartmentalization of private business. I hear everything, though surprisingly no sex yet. At least not the kind I’m accustomed to. It’s an English guy and a local girl staying there and (although I could make some assumptions and can confirm they are most definitely “business partners”) I’m not quite sure about the extent of their relationship. They argue like an old familiar couple. “I’m just going out. Where? Nowhere, Just out” says a high sing-songy voice. Angry man voice objects. She never leaves. She was negotiating for more attention. Business dealings are discussed. They need to save 2 million baht to buy that bar on the corner lot. At the bigger bars a girl can make 10,000 baht in one night. “Nah-uh!” “Uh-huh, I have friends who do.” Her investment plan is to save 60,000 baht a month. No comment made on his financial contributions. Later: giggle, giggle, silence, giggle, cigarette. Hmm, could that have been sex?!

Now there’s no argument that this is none of my business and I would much rather have a good night sleep than eavesdrop on their random affairs but this is the life in a not-even-that-cheap Bangkok guesthouse. I thought about moving but the place is convenient and otherwise very nice and honestly, I’m just too lazy. Besides, if a few more characters, like an evil twin and someone from the grave, show up this can be like my personal television soap opera.

Breakfast:a brown steamed bun with raisins (10 baht), 5 small odd round warm things with crepe-like exterior, gooey white slightly-sweet interior with about 12 kernels of corn inside (no so good, 10 baht), a small container of milk from 7-Eleven (22 baht), a train ride to another part of town where I discover Western-dining heaven (17 baht) and sinfully partake despite my perfectly full belly. Glutton. But who could resist Au Bon Pain chocolate croissant and a cafe latte (110 baht)?!

Mid-morning Snack:A small bun with a purple cream-like filling called “taro” (5 baht). Jackfruit, segments cut from a massive spiny fruit that can be larger than a watermelon (10 baht).

Mid-morning activity:Went to Probike near Lumphini park, the only big bike shop in town to find my new bike. Narrowed it down to 2 bikes - a Trek and a Gary Fisher mountain bike. Plan to change the tires to road tread tires so I can race the locals with their one thousand plastic buckets or dozen squeeling pigs in tow. Met a cool French guy who cycled up from Singapore and is headed to Cambodia en route to the Olympic games. Exchanged emails as I hope to be there with some friends for that too. He’ll spend the following year cycling back to France. Niiice! He was a mountain bike newbie like me two months ago when he purchased his in Singapore so he gave me some buying tips. I just love wild, innocent, borderline-insane ambition! (Yann, good luck… see you in Beijing!)

Lunch:Splurged on a fancy ham and cheese panini at the Landmark Hotel. There’s an overabundance of mouth-watering decadence in this city so a quick escape is in order before I blow my budget and my waistline. For better or worse, the thought of my next human-powered adventure has relieved me of my derriere expansion fears. Let’s go, yum yum, little piggy!

Afternoon activity: My primary plan was to find a good bookstore and a new book. However, an overwhelmingly large portion of my day was spent searching for that one special object: a smooth sexy black gel tip pen, the only acceptable writing instrument in my (clearly obsessive) mind! This task actually started casually this morning at my first 7-Eleven stop. Since then, I’ve been to at least 18 others, as well as numerous supermarkets, shopping malls and pharmacies.

And by the way, Bangkok has 7-Elevens like Seattle has Starbucks. While standing under the orange and green striped awning of one shop, I could throw a Slurpee through the door of two others. And I throw like a girl. Take two steps and you can see 3 others while still being a target if they wanted to throw it back. No kidding. They do not carry the absurd super-sized Big Gulp, as I’m not entirely sure the smaller people here could actually transport it without wheeling it out on a bike with a built in cup holder. As well, I hate to report that they have no black pens!

By 3 o’clock in the afternoon, I was beginning to fear that Bangkok only supports the use of black ink in tatoo form, not for writing on paper. As a desperate last resort I checked a large department store called Robinson (similar to BHV in Paris or Macy’s in the U.S., except with more departments). To my delight, the back corner of the 3rd floor contained an obsessive journal keepers most impressive pen collection. I could hear the glittery tune from the Price is Right final showcase playing and Bob Barker enthusiastically saying “all this could be yours”! Rows and rows of blank ink tubes just waiting to be sampled and chosen to bleed across my painfully blank pages. I bought 2: the cheaper local Emperor brand (still not trusting that the local market understands the importance of writing pens) and the Papermate Super Gel 07.

I also found several book stores throughout the day but bought no new books. I’ve grown accustomed to picking up or trading good half-interesting books at guesthouses and cafes so spending $12-15 on a crisp new book that I’ll abandon in a couple of days just sounds unreasonable. I found loads but “no Bob, the price is not right”. Plus, I’m carry around too many as it is and I’d much rather buy 12 nice pens or eat an exotic meal. And so… speaking of…

Mid-afternoon Snack:Corn cut off the cob in rows with a knife so sharp that it could filet The Iron Chef himself (10 baht). Crispy artfully rolled waffle cone tasting cylinders filled with a pistachio-green colored light airy cream (two thumbs up, 10 baht).

Dinner: Then something very alarming happened. I realized that after all this gastronomical exploration, I was craving McDonalds! To some this may sounds uneventful but those who know me well would recognize this as an indicator that I may be falling off my rocker. I can count the number of times I’ve eaten at Micky D’s on my fingers and the toes of one foot; I can count the times I’ve initiated a trip there myself on my thumbs. But here I was, drooling over the thought of a Big Mac. A strange manifestation of homesickness and familiarity maybe?!? So it was the peculiar hunger for the grease of the Golden Arches today that made me question the stability of my mental state, not my quest for the perfect pretty pen or my conversations with Mr. Barker.

I suppose if I come back from this hiatus as a total nut job you can point to Bangkok as the likely tipping point. Anyway, as a good mental patient would, I denied the madness inside and opted for a nearby Subway sandwich instead. (But as you all know, Subway never successfully substitutes for McDonalds. Not even close. So I will surely be standing in line for a happy meal before I leave town… and hopefully before I leave the land of the sane.)

Evening reflections:  I wish those two would have their silent sex or pass out. Just give her the money for her mom. You guys already talked about this and you know she needs it. And quit acting like you won’t miss her and be jealous if she goes to town alone. Of course you will, now be a good boy and say it. Man, this is a great pen. It feels good to be writing again. Why wasn’t I writing in Cambodia? I had a good pen. Maybe I’ll throw the ballpoint pen next door as a friendly invitation to keep it down. Am I going nuts? Could the fumes and pollution be getting to me? Hmm, whatever. It was a nice day. I like it here. But when should I leave for the beach? And which island? And what time is it?!?! 4 a.m.?! I’ll just throw that pen against the wall. Oh yes!, the other neighbor just told them to zip it. Sweet, maybe I can sleep now.  

Bangkok is a great city. I’ve only seen a fraction of it but I enjoy the international crowd, the vendors and the hustle and bustle on the streets. Like Kathmandu, it’s a place that could suck you in but Bangkok will spit you back out too. Food is good, everything you think you need is available and the fast pace (and pollution) is intoxicating but it’s also rough and the vibe of it’s infamously seedy underbelly is always present. I’m viewing it from my present detached traveller’s position but through the glass of the comfortable cafe window I could easily see myself here in my previous life - working, spending, participating, consuming. Rather than run off as quickly as I can to the beach, I think I’ll let myself linger a while enjoying it’s energy. It’s a funny feeling to wander the streets of a busy city with absolutely nothing to do. Maybe sometimes you make up important assignments and write soap opera scripts…

Posted in Thailand