taxi from the airport

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Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't mind so much taking a small detour through a new city, orientating myself with its sounds, smells, and even its random people pissing in the street (the first noteworthy event of my time in Bangkok). Last night, however, was an exception. Less of a bother was the taxi's meter that kept ticking away unremittingly, as if we were actually making progress towards our destination. (It's hard to get upset at spending a few extra Baht for the taxi driver's honest mis-direction when the total fare from the airport to downtown Bangkok still costs only a fraction of what I paid to get from Penn Station to the Upper East Side just a few days earlier). What bothered me about the driver getting lost was that it was midnight, almost 30 hours since I started my day in New York - and all I wanted was a shower and some sleep. I didnt give much thought to the possibility that I was getting scammed, intentionally lost and robbed or worse, because the driver had an honest look about him - albeit a bit dopy, but honest. After I showed him the printout I had with the address and phone number of the guest house for the third time, he decided to take out his cell phone and make a call. No luck. So he handed me the phone and motioned for me to give it a try. The problem was, the phone had 26 buttons (literally, 26 buttons - I counted because I though it was quite funny given our predicament), all of which were worn well past the point of legibity. So the phone option obviously wasnt going to work. After a few more minutes of confusion, I motioned for him to turn around and head towards a hotel I remembered passing about a mile back. From there, the doorman was able to send us on our way and not too long after we had arrived at Asha Guest House - just in time for a beer with a few travelers from Scotland and Australia before passing out on a lumpy mattress until a chorus of howling dogs woke me up before sunrise. Aahh, the adventures of traveling!

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