As I was passing one of the many clothes/assorted junk/used CD street vendors in the Khao San Rd. orbit last night, I noticed the CD of some Finnish guys I know from New York. I did a double-take and ended up getting into a conversation with the vendor, A. (I’m not doing the Victorian-era literary conceit this time. That was his name. He later introduced his younger brother as B.). He and his friends seemed cool and they invited me to join them for a beer on the sidewalk. After a few minutes, A. turned and offered me a 7-11 Big Gulp cup. “Here, I want you to try this,” he said. It was very cold. I took a tiny sip to be polite. “Do you know this?” he asked. “It’s called . . . it’s called . . .”
“Sure, it’s a Slurpee,” I said. “They have these in America, too.”
A., however, was still finishing his sentence, looking for the word. “It’s called . . . methadone.”
Dang, they have everything at 7-11.
“No more methadone-laced Slurpees for you, young man!!”
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April 26, 2007 at 6:11 pm
Lauren
My favorite story ever told.
May 15, 2007 at 9:01 pm
Alex
did you feel anything from the shake?
May 17, 2007 at 4:15 pm
Thomas
Only felt stupid. But it was kind of hard to tell through the opium haze.
I’m back for a second time in Mandalay–have been in mountains & small towns w/ no Internet access for past several days. Posted photos and am transcribing my notes; will have to post these tomorrow as net place is closing up. Stay tuned! This has been a very interesting trip.