So it should come as no surprise to me that three taxis passed me up before one stopped beside me as I stood on the sidewalk and picked me up. I've heard a number of excuses from taxi drivers -- too much traffic, they're not going that way, the destination's too far, too many of us trying to cram into one taxi, they don't understand where I want to go; and of course the ever present pay-a-flat-rate-of-anything-from-200-500-baht-or-I'm-not-taking-you-anywhere.
But this time, without saying anything, these taxi drivers' message was loud and uniquely clear: your bag is too big and I don't want to load it in my car.
Quick background: I had beanbag chairs custom made for my classroom. The students think the chairs are for them. Silly children. They're for me. I need a power-nap chair after lunch every once in a while. The second day I had the chair, some girls sat down and ripped a hole in the seam. Thus I had the arduous task of taking out much of the beanbag bubbles, hauling it down to the curb, shoving it in a taxi, carrying it through the night market, and leaving it there for a week while they repaired it.
And so there I stood on the sidewalk, waiting for a taxi to take me the 60 baht ride back to my apartment. Two taxis pulled up then quickly sped by when they saw the enormous beanbag chair in an even bigger plastic bag next to me. The third one only glanced at me then moved on. At that point, the motorcycle taxi driver motioned that he'd get me one, so 3 seconds later there was a bright pink taxi right next to me. (How do they do it? Is it a secret hand signal they're giving each other?)
After a few shoves, the beanbag was in and I slid into the front seat next to my wonderful old driver (the passenger seat is on the left side, by the way). He made dreadful small-talk that consisted of him repeating the same Thai phrase over and over again until I simply agreed with him i the hopes it would shut him up. I kept telling him I didn't know what he was saying, so he finally used his very broken English to ask me how long I've lived in Bangkok and to tell me I was beautiful.
I always get stressed when the taxi drivers try making conversation in Thai since my comprehension skills are embarrassing at best. I've memorized a few set answers, but when their questions go off book, I begin floundering. And this was one of those many moments. The ten minute taxi ride was quickly becoming more than the 60 baht I was going to pay him -- he actually expected me to make conversation the whole time!
Thankfully, he dropped me off at the front of the school so I could cart it up to my classroom. I gave him a 10 baht tip for helping me get it out of the backseat, directed him out of the parking lot, and practically ran up the front steps with a gigantic green plastic bag hoisted over my shoulder like Santa's bag of gifts.
Unusual experience? Not really. With the exception of the beanbag, taxi rides run the gauntlet of strangeness. I'm just glad they haven't kidnapped me and carted me off to Cambodia yet.
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