I walk out into the sun and look for a storefront window. I find one.
I'm terribly proud of my new look. I look like a real tourist. Actually, I am a real tourist.
All I need now is a shower, because my skin's itching from all the sweat. But why a shower? I'm going straight to the beach and throwing myself into the waves. I'll find a sunny beach and have a proper swim there. I won't come out of that salty water for ten hours. I'll wash with it, gargle with it, give myself an enema with it...
The lifeguards will drag me out by force. But I'll jump right back in. I want to splash around! I want waves as big as a house! Death to the lifeguards! Not even the Thai police will get me out of there.
There aren't many taxis left in the airport parking lot. I spot one right away. I run to it so nobody else snags it.
"Take me to the nearest beach," I tell the taxi driver as I flop onto the back seat. "Come on, man, I'm in a hurry! You understand English, right? Beach. Sand... Ocean?"
The guy is reading one of those worm-written newspapers. He folds it and looks over his shoulder at me as if I'd fallen from the moon. What's with him? What's his problem? Why do I keep running into dumbasses like this?
The small, sallow guy gives me a really weird look. Maybe he's sick. Maybe he's deaf. I should slow down and be gentle with him. Maybe English is too hard for taxi drivers around here. They spend all day sitting behind the wheel, so maybe their brains don't get enough exercise.
So I break it down for him like he's a stupid kid.
"Hola, amigo! Me European tourist," I say, pointing at myself. "You beach me, and me give muuuch money to you! OK? Understand? Beach? Sand?"
I make the international sign for money.
"Money, money, money! Pesos! Dinero! Oh, for fuck's sake! You understand or you don't? What's wrong with you?"
Silence. Nothing. He blinks like a dumb cow. He doesn't even breathe.
"What's wrong with you?" I snap at him. "You seriously don't understand? Money, man! Look... Money! It's clear... you're dumb! Hey, dude... hey... look at my lips!"
Nothing. This one's a statue. I feel like crying from frustration. Gooood, what a backward country... You fucking idiot! Are all taxi drivers around here like this? Did the heat fry their brains? I try again, but slower, and I stress every word.
"Dollars... for... you. You take me to... beach. At the speed of light. Step on it!" I say, pointing at the steering wheel. "Come on, start the engine..."
I'm dying!
"What's so hard, man! What the fuck do they teach you in school? You have schools here, right? God... look at his face... Why are you staring like that? You see a ghost?"
Do I have something written on my forehead? Did I grow horns? Why is this guy looking at me like that?
"Hello! Mister Asia! You understand or you don't understand? You have tongue? Show me tongue. Come on, stick out tongue and show me! You mute?"
I stick my tongue out at him. I point at my tongue. He looks at me like a newborn calf. Motherfucking taxi drivers! Why do I always get the stupid ones? What's so hard for some people about learning a foreign language? If you drive a taxi in a country packed with tourists, you should know a little English, right?
I squeeze my brain a bit. Where did that asshole bartender say he hooked up with cute Thai girls? What the hell was that beach called?
"I got it!" I suddenly shout. "PHUKET! You take white European tourist to Phuket and tourist give you lots of money! Done, solved! Phuket!"
"Phuket?" he says, smiling.
Victory! He speaks! Look, he understands! That little brain finally unlocked.
"Yes, man, Phuket!" I yell, thrilled. "Good job! You smart! You understand fast!"
Ecstasy hits me when I see how intelligent I am and what a good memory I've got. Bravo, Tiberiu! That was the magic word. In this country even the ones with half a brain know what to do when they hear the name "Phuket."
I raise my hands like I'm trying to hypnotize him. I speak slowly and stress every syllable, "Yeees, Phuket, friend! Phuuuuu Keeeeet! P-H-U-K-E-T! You get big money from me! Capisci? Comprendo? Gavarish po-ruski? Start the engine, buddy! Let's go to Phuket."
"I can't, sir," the taxi driver says, shaking his head. "Phuket is much too far."
He talks! I made him talk. I'm proud! I've always known how to handle people. I've got a special gift from God.
"Stop the bullshit," I say quickly. "Me pay you big! You take me Phuket right now."
"You can speak normally," he says, smiling. "I understand every word without any problem. But I'm sorry, I can't take you all the way to Phuket, no matter how much money you'd give me. It's just too far. I do much shorter trips. Airport – city, city – airport... That's what I do."
I look at him like I'm seeing the first alien of my life. The man continues, "Let me explain," he goes on, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. "Thailand is a very long country. Look at the map here. Look at the screen. We're here right now, in Chiang Mai, meaning the far north, in the mountainous part of the country."
"Aha!"
"And Phuket and most of Thailand's beaches are located down in the far south of the country."
"Aha!"
"From Chiang Mai to Phuket it's about 800 miles." He taps quickly on his phone, then continues, "It's exactly 748 miles. You can check too."
"Uh... I don't have my phone on me. I'll take your word. So it's 800 miles. How much is that in kilometers?"
He taps a few more times.
"About 1,200 kilometers. I'm sorry, sir. That's the situation."
"Aha... 1,200... damn it!"
"Yes, it's a bit unpleasant. I'm sorry. Is this your first time in Thailand?"
"Kind of," I say sourly. "But... uh... anyway. Congrats, buddy! Your English is way better than mine."
"Thank you, Mister white European tourist," he says, chuckling softly. "I learned it at school. You know, we really do have schools around here. I'm serious."
I have to breathe. I stare at him and take a deep breath.
"Are you feeling okay?" he suddenly asks with a worried face. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Nothing," I mumble. "It's nothing. What... uh... what school did you go to? What did you study?"
"Journalism. In Bangkok."
"Aha!"
"Right now I support myself driving a taxi until I get my master's. I was an intern at a newspaper in the capital. Now I'm a contributor in Chiang Mai, at a local paper."
"Uh... very nice."
"Yes, it is. But my dream is to become a TV reporter. If I had to choose between print and broadcast, broadcast is clearly my favorite. It seems like a much more exciting field to me. Do you agree?"
"Mm-hmm!"
"But let's get back to your problem. You've got quite a trip to Phuket."
"Mm-hmm!"
"What do you want us to do? Do you want me to take you into the city, Chiang Mai? It's true we don't have beaches around here, but instead there are lots of places rich with history and many cute temples you can visit. From the city, you can also take the train or the bus to Phuket, or use any other means of transport you want."
"Any other means of transport?"
"Yes. To get to Phuket."
"Aha!"
"Or you can..."
"What?"
"You've got the simplest solution right under your nose."
"What solution?"
I don't see any solution. My head hurts. But the man points toward the airport and smiles.
"It's simple," he says, his face lit up.
"The plane!" I suddenly shout and slap my forehead. "I think I'll take the plane!"
"That's a very good idea, sir. Congratulations! In at most two hours you'll get straight to Phuket."
I jump out of the taxi and run into the airport. Then I remember I forgot something. I go back outside, but the taxi already has a client and is pulling away.
"Hello!" I shout. "Wait, man, one second! Don't go. Let me give you some of this Thai money."
"No need, sir!" the driver says, smiling, and waves goodbye. "I wish you an easy trip to the beach. Welcome to Thailand!"
Well, he left! What bad luck! The only English speaker in this country just took off. Are there others?
I'm sitting at a table, sipping from a beer can, and studying the map carefully, the one I bought from a stand with trinkets and souvenirs.
My journalist taxi driver was right. Phuket is way the hell out there, down south somewhere.
By now, I've missed the flight to Phuket. All I can do is wait for the next one. My next flight boards in three hours, so I've got time to study the map and think about how and in what way I'm going to torture that bartender if I ever make it back home.
What a bastard! If he'd been an honest man, he could've warned me that from Chiang Mai to Phuket, you've got time to grow a beard.
I've got nobody to talk to around here. Thailand is a country of wonderful, smiley, polite people, but they speak a weird, tangled language. Impossible to learn. You'll break your tongue trying.
But my map is in English, so I'm going to memorize it until I know it even in my sleep. From now on, if somebody wakes me up at night to ask what the deal is with Phuket, I'll tell him any idiot knows it's in the south, out where the devil weaned his kids.
So I'm about to have my second flight today. God, how many sacrifices does a man still have to make just to get a little bit of beach in December?
I hope it's worth it!