“I don’t like the PPP but I don’t like the PAD either.” Blah, blah, blah. It’s amazing that there can be so much political conflict in a city where everyone seems to agree on the basics. But it’s alright, help is at hand, now that it’s raining so hard, we don’t really care anymore. We’ve got the weather to talk about.
“Sorry I’m late, it was raining.”
“Oh my god, me too. I was stuck at the exit ramp for two hours!”
Yes, Kriangsak or Apirak, democracy or dictatorship, you can count on the rain to make friends of us all. United in our lateness (well, even later than usual lateness), united in dampness, united in being stuck at the office waiting for the clouds to clear. It’s like a siege mentality, we’re all in it together. The rainy season is a great baptism from which we emerge cleansed, refreshed and full of hope. Hallelujah. (Note to self: stop watching so much of Obama on CNN.)
Seriously, we love water. Water is essential to life. That soapy foam you see in Chuwit’s massage parlors, it’s mostly water. That lake of mud at Government House, that’s got water in it. That brown sludge the BMA wants to give World Heritage Status to, its known to contain the odd bit of H20 to help all the rubbish stay afloat.
Did you know even booze has water in it? And since 75% of the Thai body is composed of booze, you’ll find traces of water in our bodies, too. In fact, keep this to yourself, but we’ll even drink H20 if we’re really, really hung over.
Here’s the problem, though, we can’t actually afford it anymore. Sometimes, we’ll go to a restaurant and just shake our heads when the waiter asks what we’re drinking. Then we’ll go drink our fill at the tap, in the toilets, between each course. Sad, right? But what’s a Bangkokian to do? B160 + service charge + tax. That’s how much a bottle of water can cost when your order “nam plao” at a “fancy” restaurant. In order to survive, we’ve developed a method guaranteed to halve your water bill: 1. Ask t.he waiter to give you any empty bottles. 2. Put said bottles of San Benedetto and Voss on the windowsill. 3. Wait for evening thunderstorms. 4. Remove any dead insects. 5. Recap bottle. 6. Sell back to restaurant. Easy, right?
Or how about this: take your own water bottle to the restaurant. What are they going to do, charge corkage? We’re thinking of making a BK one, with our great logo, and a simple message that reads: “I am not a bottle of overpriced imported water.”