Making an ass out of myself, constantly

(Continued from previous entry)

I woke up from my nap and decided I would explore the ol' hood. 

 The first thing I saw was this amazing thunderhead.  Initially, I was uncertain if I should continue on walking, because this guy looked like some serious rain.  But having been in the desert for the last 2 years, I figured a little rain wouldn't hurt me.  Sadly, I didn't get caught in a deluge (that day), but the wonder of seeing a storm cloud again really got my heart pumping.  In a good way, not in an exercise way.






Then I saw this statue when I was walking over the Japanese Friendship Bridge (I know, right?  It's only recently the Japanese and Thai have been friendly, and that's only because the Japanese are spending Yen like crazy people here).  There is an abundance of elephant statues here, to the point that I'm already disappointed that I haven't seen a real live elephant and mahout (the trainer).  (Sadly, I only know "mahout" because of the book of short stories "Pump Six," a sci-fi dystopian collection by Bacigalupi, that I highly recommend.)




So, after finding my bearings in the neighborhood of Silom (pronounced Sigh-Loam), I ventured further afield and found Lumphini Park. 

I had been walking for a while, was sweating like a criminal, and decided I should find a nice bench to sit down on.  I found one, directly inside the park, and hunkered down for a bottle of water and a little rest.  I had only been there for about 10 minutes when a little old lady carrying a plastic bag sauntered up to my bench and mumbled something.  Having had my heart hardened from previous encounters from mumblers in foreign languages, I shook my head and said "no thanks."  I didn't know what she was selling, but I wasn't buying it.  She didn't "waa" or do any funky things with her hands, but after a minute, it became apparent that she wasn't exactly interested in me.  She was rummaging behind the bench, rustling her bag, and only once looked up at me with such an expression of disappointment I thought I should actually buy what she was selling.  After about 2 minutes, she straightened up and walked away.  No harm, no foul.  I continued to rest, watching people walk by, not worried at all.  Then I saw the stray dog.  Make that dogs.  Plural.  A pack of them was starting to circle around my bench.  I'm not scared of dogs, because I'm a whisperer.  But when faced with a group of Thai canines, obviously ignorant of the soothing sounds of the English language, I started to get a little nervous.  I patted myself down for telltale pieces of meat, found nothing, and started to ease my way off the bench.  None of them looked at me.  They continued to look where I had been sitting.  So, one eye on the Cujos, I glanced over to the bench.  Behind me, there was a kitten eating fish off a paper plate.  That kitten, that paper plate, hadn't been there when I initially sat down.  Then it dawned on me...the old lady!  She's out there, braving roving packs of wolves to feed cats, and I'm saying "No, I don't whatever it is you're selling."  She wasn't selling anything, and I'd become so paranoid of being taken advantage of that I didn't pay attention to her.  Ahhh, hindsight.  But, because I'm a sucker I stayed on the bench until the kitten finished eating, because the dogs stayed at bay while I was there.  As soon as the little guy was finished eating, he scampered off behind a fence and the dogs lost all interest in me and my surroundings.


My daily serving of crow had been served, so I walked around some more.

Then I went home and went to sleep.