insane shopping madness!!

Holy purchasing psychosis, Super Ji!

In chronological order, the details:

1. Thai class. The Thai teacher offered to come to our house to give us private lessons. We save about half the cost, she makes about double what the school was giving her out of the fees they charged, and Phet will join in because he doesn't have to leave the apartment and truck himself over to Thong Lo. We all win. Price for 10 two-hour lessons: 8000 baht.

2. Tailor. We have the most kick-assedly masculinely named tailoring shop of them all. "Jim Man Tailors." We rule. We hopped over on the skytrain and ordered 3 suits for Phet (one brown, one navy, one grey), 4 shirts (various colours), 2 pairs of pants for me (black and navy with pinstripes), and 2 shirts for me (green and cream). The tailor charges a hefty price compared to Vietnam and Laos where it was almost as good a deal as buying clothes at the Goodwill. But they are ultra-ultra professional and detailed about their work. Phet was told to come back in four hours for his first fitting and that the suits would be ready in a week. Price: really quite alot compared to the amount we usually spend on clothes, but very reasonable compared to the price of normal, off-the-rack clothes in Canada, and stupendously cheap compared to the price of tailored clothes anywhere outside Asia.

3. Pantip Plaza. Ehhh, a shiver of fear and terror runs through my veins when I hear the name Pantip. As noted previously, it is the home of ALL MEN who visit Bangkok and who are not at the bar. It is 6 floors of hot, flourescent-lit rabbit warren shops. The shops sell an eye-goggling array of computer crud that I always thought was kind of free. Like mousepads, mice, connection cords, CDs, CD holding cases, printer ink, and yadda yadda. Although there is one small shop that sells brass buddhas and there are some main floor stalls that sell crappy flea market type stuff like christmas lights and naked-girl lighters, there is NOTHING even remotely fun to shop for. No clothes, no music, no books, no magazines, no toys, nothing. Eck.

There are, however, a mazillion printers, computers, iPods, porn DVDs, and four mazillion people running around in a haze trying to get the best deal on all of the above. I have discovered - through painful trial and error - that the best way to survive the hell of Pantip is to find a quiet zen zone at a table in the food court. I like to watch Ji sleep, drink my iced coffee, watch people go by, and ponder the state of my universe. It is calm, in a way, being at the still centre of such an audio visual storm. I hung out in this state of suspended animation for about 4 hours, offering occasional advice to Phet.

In the end we purchased: plate of fried chicken and rice, iced green tea, water, USB cord for the video camera, a NEW DIGITAL CAMERA, and a new phone for Phet. The phone is waaaaay over the top - it's a phone / PDA / web connecty thingy / camera. Total price: I can't even type the numbers in they are so big, so incredibly huge. But the chicken and rice was a steal!

4. Back to see the tailors, who have already cut and loosely stitched together the vest section underlayer of what will become one of the jackets. Phet admires himself in his sweaty t-shirt, dirty shorts, and raggedy "jacket". Then we go horf down a few plates of iddly and dosa at the DOSA KING restaurant. Not yet ready to quit, we carry on to the Robinson's department store next door, where we fling our cash around like moguls, and cart off 2 basketballs, 1 swimsuit, 1 pair of sandals, and 1 phone card. Price: the last remaining shreds of sanity. [Bangkok-29-May-2005]