Picture this...

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then I wonder exactly how many thousand words I am going to need to type in order to make up for all of the pictures I missed today. It was a “Jennifer” day for sightseeing in Thailand, and I left my camera at the hotel. I realized it early on – at Dunkin’ Donuts for an iced latte (I did say it was a Jennifer day, right?). But we had already navigated the water taxi system through the stinky canal and walked a fair distance. The thought of turning back appealed to no one. So, I took a deep breath and told myself I would be fine. One day without the camera could not possibly kill me. I would try to get in touch with my Zen side and be completely present in the moment – take a picture with my mind and move on.

Well, my Zen side is apparently in need of some attention. A day without a camera in Bangkok forced me to admit that I have a problem – a serious addiction to photos. Every time I saw a photo-worthy moment, I whimpered and whined. There was no living in the moment – only cursing and complaining. Alas, I will attempt to quickly record what little my mind’s eye remembers from this camera-free day.

We began with the water taxi (which left Brianna sprayed in sewer-water) and found our way to Dunkin’ Donuts under the guise of checking out the movie selection at yet another mall for Nolan’s birthday celebration tomorrow. After making the decision to abandon the camera, we traded in the smelly water taxi transport of the common man for the squeaky clean, air conditioned comfort of the sky train. We silently glided across Bangkok to the river where we went back to water transport. One of the best ways to see the city is supposed to be by water, so we hopped on an “express” boat (glorified water taxi) and took a ninety minute ride to the end of the line in the suburbs north of Bangkok.

We spotted lots of photo-worthy wats along the way. I pointed them out to Brianna and Nolan (who were finished with the water experience about 5 minutes in), and then blinked (back tears) and told my mind to take a picture. I enjoyed the sights along the river. Nolan enjoyed playing with a little friend in front of us who had water balloons to share. Brianna was just hot. We had unknowingly picked the sunny side of the boat, so every time we stopped at a pier and the breeze stopped blowing, we sweated it out until we took off again.

When we got to the end of the line, the plan was to find lunch and then turn around and get back on another boat to central Bangkok. We explored a few busy streets. Brianna’s only requirement for our lunch location was air conditioning. Mine was edible food. This is Thailand, and all of the best food is out on the street. We walked past stall after stall of tantalizing Thai treats in the broiling sun. We walked past twelve 7-Elevens, all seeping air conditioning. The combination of good food and air conditioning was proving very difficult to find. Finally we stumbled upon something purporting to be a restaurant with a closed door (signaling air conditioning). Somehow I missed the large hearts on the door and the “No breast grabbing” sign displayed in the window.

We entered the cool karaoke den, and “business” came to a halt. One super thin woman rose unsteadily on her 5-inch heels and greeted us. She shushed all of her giggling friends and escorted us to a table (three feet from theirs). Miraculously she produced a menu from behind the bar, and we set out to find something that satisfied my criteria (edible). I quickly settled on the chicken with coconut soup (no spice), and Brianna and Nolan decided to share spaghetti (which came with the warning, “that will take a very long time.”) I thought, “Fabulous! The more time we can spend in this cozy little cave of sin the better!” I excused myself to use the restroom, and, when I returned, I found the table of giggling patrons carrying on a conversation with Brianna and Nolan over their karaoke microphone. It was the usual questions, “How old are you? Where are you from? What’s your name? Do you like to sing to Lady Gaga? How about Michael Jackson?” My return didn’t stop the fun. I got the same questions and the same repeated invitations to exhibit my singing skills. I politely declined 99 times before our food arrived.

One bite of my soup and my lips nearly fell off. Apparently either Vietnam has turned me into a spice wuss, or I am just not cut out for “real” Thai food. That’s twice in two days (the first time being with a tasty plate of Pad Thai with oysters) that I have nearly died from inhaling hot chilies in my “mild” dish. I scooped out the chicken and enjoyed it on top of plain white rice. Bri and Nolan pushed their spaghetti around and asked if we could stop for snacks at the 7-Eleven before getting back on the boat. They didn’t need to ask twice.

Our inebriated table of friends politely conversed with us over their microphone throughout our meal. We listened to them belt out heavily accented and slurred versions of hits from the seventies and eighties. When we had finally paid our bill, and they had asked (for the fifth time) how old Brianna was (not old enough for you my dears) and bade us “Welcome to Thailand” for the tenth time, I made a beeline for the door – noting the hearts and breasts on the way out.

7-Eleven has never felt so, safe, clean and refreshing. Armed with snacks, we made our way back to the boat that would take us far, far away from our little lunchtime adventure. We hopped off a few miles from the hotel and had a forced march through rush hour traffic to get back to our waiting swimming pool.

Having learned my lesson earlier in the day, Nolan and I headed straight to the 7-Eleven for dinner. We returned to the room with three “Cup-o-Ramen” soups, rice crackers and a giant Kit Kat for dinner. Upon discovering that even “Cup-o-Soup” was too spicy for me, I resigned myself to rice crackers and chocolate for dinner…anything to avoid chancing two karaoke brothels in one day. And to think I forgot my camera…