all that I heard about it, it's true
So two major rumors about Thai movie theaters were confirmed for me tonight. First, when you buy your ticket, a schematic of the theater comes up on a screen and you get to select your seat. I was boggled by the choices, so the clerk chose me a corner seat with plenty of legroom. An argument for getting there early. Second, the national anthem does indeed play before the start of the movie, and a short montage of unabashed devotion for the king is shown. The king taking pictures, the king playing a saxophone, the king in uniform, the king helping up a cripple. And all with those coke-bottle glasses. Seriously, I see men in the street wearing big chunky glasses and I wonder if they're trying to riff on the king's signature look.
And a short bit on Bangkok. I'm staying here waiting for some job applications to ripen, and while I do I'm staying in the dingiest guest house imaginable. To put things in perspective, at the pharmacy today I paid more for some soap and a stick of chapstick than I did for the night before. I checked in there at midnight after my flight from China and I haven't been able to find another room nearby yet. It's peak season in Bangkok for the nappy-dread cheap-living hippie crowd and the shower that I share with ten people on my hall hasn't been used yet. I didn't realize that the funk that trails them was a carefully cultivated odeur. It's just one of the merit badges that belongs on the chest of the backpacker Eagle Scout. Along with a knock-off shirt of the local beer of every country you've traveled in, a camera that cost more than the month you spent in a Burmese fishing village, and a tired schtick about the number of Americans who even own a passport (20% according to the sarong-wrapped globetrotter who accosted me at Angkor Wat. Well 100% of the Americans in Cambodia have one, I replied, and isn't that a start? She told me that wasn't the point).
The saving grace of my day was the movies- almost empty airconditioned theater, orange Fanta sucked out of a plastic bag with a straw, and Daniel Craig far exceeding my expectations as the newest James Bond.
And a short bit on Bangkok. I'm staying here waiting for some job applications to ripen, and while I do I'm staying in the dingiest guest house imaginable. To put things in perspective, at the pharmacy today I paid more for some soap and a stick of chapstick than I did for the night before. I checked in there at midnight after my flight from China and I haven't been able to find another room nearby yet. It's peak season in Bangkok for the nappy-dread cheap-living hippie crowd and the shower that I share with ten people on my hall hasn't been used yet. I didn't realize that the funk that trails them was a carefully cultivated odeur. It's just one of the merit badges that belongs on the chest of the backpacker Eagle Scout. Along with a knock-off shirt of the local beer of every country you've traveled in, a camera that cost more than the month you spent in a Burmese fishing village, and a tired schtick about the number of Americans who even own a passport (20% according to the sarong-wrapped globetrotter who accosted me at Angkor Wat. Well 100% of the Americans in Cambodia have one, I replied, and isn't that a start? She told me that wasn't the point).
The saving grace of my day was the movies- almost empty airconditioned theater, orange Fanta sucked out of a plastic bag with a straw, and Daniel Craig far exceeding my expectations as the newest James Bond.
posted by DMF at 9:12 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home