Traveling ain’t so great. But neither is sitting at home.
Rude Chinese tourists sat in front of us on the plane leaving Bangkok. They never shut up. Their tones assaulted our ears. It’s amazing how much better they sound when they sing.
They tried to lean their seats all the way back, but Zucchini and I blocked them with our knees, fighting for what space we had.
The flight touched ground in Kuala Lumpur, stopped briefly, and the Chinese rushed to the aisle and opened baggage compartments. A flight attendant told them to sit back down and wait till we arrived at the gate.
Once at the gate they rushed to the aisle again, bumping into others and pissing off one guy who yelled at them. After stepping off the plane, we, and everyone that sat in the back half of the plane, were stuck behind them because they, with their luggage and jabbering and slow movements, either rottenly inconsiderate or oblivious like stupid cattle, blockaded the hallway.
I saw an opening and cut through the first group but soon clashed with a second group who, standing still on the people mover, that flat escalator, didn’t want to walk or get the fuck out of the way. You couldn’t hesitate, we learned, but loudly say “excuse me” and march right through them. I told Zucchini I hate the Chinese and she said she hates them too, but reminded me they don’t all have beastly hereditary inclinations.
The Chinese in China, they might be swell people. But after traveling around SEA, I see why a Japanese would take offense to being called Chinese. The Thais I’ve met who work in the tourism industry say they’re the worst tourists, and they refer to them as locusts.
It would be just our luck if on the next plane one of them was to desire fresh air so much as to open the emergency door right before takeoff. Hey, it recently happened. But I’ve also witnessed a retarded white man who before boarding the plane, shouted bible verses and once on the plane and in midair, wouldn’t let this woman, who was sitting in the window seat, go to the bathroom. She managed to stand up, but he held her back by her hair. Fortunately there were two big, black, athletic Samaritans. They pulled the retard off and dragged him into the aisle. He tried to bite them and they, in retaliation, put the boots to him. The flight attendants brought forth zip ties, and our two heroes held him down with their knees until we could make an emergency landing somewhere in Texas. Cops came aboard, took him away, and everybody cheered.
We had four hours to wait before our final flight to Bali. As such, we were first at the departure gate. I chose seats near an electrical outlet, not that I needed it. It didn’t work, anyway. I watched many try to use it, and I took pleasure in witnessing their disappointment, especially if they were white men with topknots.
The flight to Bali was long. I napped between reading. I read Thomas Sowell, and you might not believe it, but it was the first time a black man gave me a boner.
The inside of the airport in Bali was big and spacious like a ballroom. Most airports branch out narrowly like spider legs. We stood in line at immigration. There was a group of Russians in the front; they held plastic bags with bottles of liquor. As we waited, a smaller group of Russians cut in line to join the first, and I thought, hell, they ain’t no better than the damn stinking Chinese.
I went ahead of Zucchini, getting my entry stamp first. Then, when Zucchini was to approach the counter next, this elderly brown Asian bitch cut directly in front of her. This guy, apparently her son, tried to stop her but couldn’t. He apologized.
We exited the airport, where the cab drivers were as thick as a school of fish. They wore the same blue shirt, so I thought them legit and not scammers. To be sure, I connected to wi-fi and learned the normal fair to Kuta Beach, where our hotel was on Legion Street. The rupiah has too may zeroes. One dollar equaled 13,354 rupiah. I had to use a calculator.
All of them wanted twice the normal rate. Saturday night traffic was terrible, they said. I didn’t see any other options, and we are talking a difference of $5, so I paid one of them.
In the cab I asked the driver for beach recommendations but I couldn’t understand the Indonesian names. I went for my shirt pocket to grab my pen. But the pen wasn’t there. Somehow, despite it having a beefy clip and making sure it was secure, I’d lost it. It was my first fountain pen and I’d paid $45 for it even though it’s $25 in America. I loved that pen.
The taxi ride was short. Traffic was ahead. Since you could walk faster than it moved, the driver dropped us off two blocks away from “Love Hotel.” It looked nice enough, was on the main drag, was only $25 a night. We thought the worst at first; just like our hotel in Kuala Lumpur last month, it had a loud night club on the first floor. Zucchini said I’d made another bad choice, and I told her she better not start with her shit. Where our room was, way in the back, thankfully you couldn’t hear nothing.
I jumped on the bed and stretched out. “I’m going to sleep.”
“You take shower. You stink.” Zucchini said.
“No. You take shower.”
She jumped on me, wrapped her arms and legs around me tightly and squeezed. It was hard to exhale. “Carry me,” she said. I hooked my thumb under her nose and pushed her head back, forcing her to let go. But she’d jump on me again, not leaving me alone, and I’d hook her under the nose and pry her off again. “You got a big face, a big Japanese face,” I told her.
“I know! All Japanese have a big face. You have a small face. Your sisters have a small face too. But not all Americans have a small face. My English teacher has a big face.”
She tried to jujitsu me, this time by choking me with her thighs.
“Get your stinky Chinese ass off me!”
“Oh yeah. Mmmm yeah, ” she said in her exaggerated sexy voice. “Oh yea that’s good. Yeah, I’m Chinese. You had sex with American girl, Japanese girl, now you can have sex with a Chinese girl!
I looked her in the eyes: “I’ve already had sex with a Chinese girl,” I lied. She went silent. I laughed. She made a scowl.
She jumped out of bed and glared at me, disgusted, then got in the shower. I rolled onto my right side and fell asleep.