un-easy rider
we had a wonderful dinner out the other night. charles had a savoury thai beef salad, and i enjoyed a spectacular plate of mussels in white wine and lime. we shared a tuna steak. it was the first time we had visited this restaurant and we will DEFINITELY be going back.
and yesterday i was in bangkok. had another really good, short visit. nearly got run over though, totally my own fault. i was trying to cross a four lane highway where there wasn’t a proper crosswalk (if it sounds like i was jaywalking, you are getting closer to the truth), and i was focusing on the red light ahead praying that it would stay red and therefore the cars in the three lanes farthest from me stationary. i stepped out into the street and was nearly struck by a car innocently driving along. fortunately, i am a mother whose children had reflux/were perennially vomitting, and those reflexes kicked in, allowing me to jump back to safety. but i could have been really hurt and it was totally my own fault.
and then there was this annoying little runt of a taxi driver that thought he could charge me an exorbitant fare. the taxis have meters for a reason. the taxi driver saw me and swerved over three lanes of traffic to screetch to a halt. i opened the door and said "airport, meter please." i didn’t get in, because you don’t get in until you have agreed on either price or to meter or not.
he says, 300 baht including tolls.
i mean really, do i look that stupid? i must because i am sure he meant it.
get serious, 300?
300 baht. very cheap price for you.
very large amounts of bull, you mean.
no thanks, i say and shut the door.
now, i am in a hurry to catch this flight. i can’t miss this flight. but my frugal blake training does not allow me to get ripped off. normally i would get to the airport the way i leave it, by bus, but i am in a hurry. so i am relying on taxi drivers. and it is making me itch in the hot polluted sun to think i might have to get ripped off to make my flight instead of sticking it out until i get my honest driver.
please don’t think i am making a big deal out of nothing. i do know that b100 is not a substantial amount of money, i know that they need the money, and that 100 baht doesn’t make a difference to me while it buys them a meal, etc, because i tip very generously. but i need the good service first.
the next taxi shakes his head at me the minute the magic word meter pops out of my mouth.
and time is ticking along.
finally, i get a taxi driver that agrees to the meter, and i get to the airport and including tolls, i have paid b185. even though the driver drops me off at the wrong terminal, i am so pleased that i got here without being ripped off that i give him a b120 tip.
i really love bangkok. it is a city i will spend more time in one day. in may, charles and i are going to go for a weekend and do the ever romantic "well-woman" and "well-man" checkups at one of the hospitals there. i predict a hot weekend: i’ll be feeling all amorous after my mammogram, and nothing makes a man feel cuddlier than walking out of a prostrate exam.
but it is something to look forward to. and getting the better of renegade taxi drivers who try to take me for an overpriced ride.
