A Little Thai Is A Dangerous Thing: 2 for 1

I was at the hospital today having a mole checked out (and eyeballing the plastic surgery rates) and had some time to kill while my bill was being determined. This took a good while because in Thailand they don't go in for this "we'll sort it out with your insurance and send you a bill" nonsense. Oh, no, they'll sort it out while you wait so you can pay before you leave. I'd already been waiting about 20-minutes when the charming clerk lady said, "Maybe you should get some lunch and I'll call you when your bill is ready."

No problem.

In part I was happy to oblige because I consider hospitals, like airports, "international food waters." As such all restrictions on reason and, er, global fare are lifted so I can finally eat at Au Bon Pain again. I stood outside ABP considering my glutinous, pastry options but couldn't help guiltily notice the unambiguously local food court right next to it. A brief internal debate ensued and a minute later I was standing at the vegan food stall (ABP will have to wait for my next international flight).

Unlike everyone else I briefly talked to in the food court, the vegan food stall guy spoke zero English and showed no sign of even vague comprehension. Not to worry though because I speak a little Thai (na krap). The menu was numbered so I held up two fingers and said, "Song (two)."

Looking a touch perplexed, he held up two fingers and said, "Song?"

"Chai," I assured him, "song." Then I pointed at the menu board above his head and slowly said, "Song, tom yum mushroom soup."

He looked at me in confusion again, then turned and talked in Thai to the lady at the next food stall.

The lady said to me (in pretty good English), "Two. Tom yum soup."

"Chai," I confirmed. "Song."

Then she turned to the guy, spoke really fast, and then back to me. "Just a few minutes."

I got a beverage and dealt with payment before sitting down. A few minutes later this is what he brought me:

Should I have seen this coming? In retrospect it sure seems like it, but I cannot stress enough the degree to which I didn't. As he approached with two soups I thought, "Hey, someone else ordered the soup when I wasn't looking... oh." But being a good Midwesterner who grew up worried about starving children in other parts of the world, I couldn't let the extra soup go to waste so twenty minutes later this is what was left:

It was delicious, certainly better than whatever I would have had at ABP,  but I didn't eat dinner that night. It was well worth it though because as a reward for my patience (i.e. not saying "this isn't how it's done in America, I'm out of here") the hospital and my insurance company ultimately determined I would pay... nothing.

On a totally unrelated note, when I get back home people might be surprised how full my lips are and how rakish my nose is. I can assured everyone I've always looked like this and all that's changed is your perspective. Perhaps you've simply grown to appreciate me more in my absence and see me in a handsomer light as a result. It's difficult to say.