Taxis and Tiny Bags

02 February, 2017

Some days I think, What in the world am I doing here?
Other days I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Today was a combination of the two.

It’s the first week of the month which means the city is busy because everyone just got paid. I remember on the very same day of pay checks being dispersed the streets were bustling with sellers and buyers alike, juggling bargains between teeth. I’m not a huge fan of shopping, mostly because any shopping done in Bangkok is sweaty, packed, and a bit chaotic; unfortunately, however, I had to get some shopping done due to the fact that I’ll be moving into a new building soon!

After getting everything needed, I proceeded to the front of the store outside to wait for a taxi. (keep scrolling…it’s a big photo)

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I waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.

I waited for a FULL HOUR and still no taxi.

The shop that I went to is placed in this odd area–not taxi friendly at all. I mean, it’s like this store and taxis got in a huge argument and now they’re giving each other the cold shoulder. We, the shoppers, are in the middle of this cold feud standing outside scratching our heads.

The city ain’t so kind either.

People who just came out of the store, holding a few bags that could fit on a motorbike, decide it’s perfectly cool to cut in front of a long line of people.

Patience.
I was losing a lot of it quickly.

It was nearly 10PM–bedtime–I needed to be a little more proactive about going home, so I pushed my cart as far as I could to get near the road. Unfortunately, everyone had the same idea. There was a long line of people ahead of me, once again holding tiny bags that could fit on a motorbike! I waited for as long as could, then retreated back to the store. Maybe I’ll have better luck in No Man’s Taxis Land.

I waited.
No taxi.
Not one.

I grabbed my stuff crap, at this point everything was referred to as crap, and tried my luck at the road again. Still a long line with people and their tiny bags.

A young woman in a pink hijab beside me felt my pain. Called me sister, like this taxi mess had birthed family history between us.
She asked my destination.
“Sister, where you go?”
“Ram.”
We quickly found out that we’re long distance relatives.

Then, the taxi heavens must have pitied me, because out of no where one of the store workers came across me.
“Aw!” (An expression Thais use to express surprise, to which he must’ve been considering that he saw me an hour ago).
He piled my heavy items on to his shoulders and assisted me up the road to a taxi.

Sometimes the city ain’t kind.
Other times it surprisingly is.

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