Let Me Tell You a Story...

It was the day we got back from Cambodia. We had just ridden in a cramped bus (you can see the picture below) from Siem Reap to the border where we crossed back into Thailand and happily boarded a smaller, air-conditioned van for the final few hours to Bangkok. Our driver, apparently not wanting to waste time like we had on our trip to Cambodia, made double-time, and Summer and I were glad to realize we were back in Bangkok before the sun went down. Sweet relief! We hopped in a cab, and made our way to the hotel we had booked, looking forward to a shower, air-conditioning, internet, and maybe even a bite to eat. When we got to the Sawasdee Sukhumvit Inn Hotel and showed them our reservation voucher, they pulled out a little note saying "URGENT" on it and kindly informed us we would be moving to another of their branch hotels a few kilometers down the road (Sawasdee Langsuan Inn). We, understandably, were a bit confused at this. They pointed us to a brochure and told us where exactly it was, and if there's one thing you learn from living and teaching in a foreign country like Thailand, it's if you just go with the flow and don't let things get under your skin when it comes to scheduling, your life is a whole lot easier. So, we went with it. They told us they would pay for another taxi for us. Nice! Things were looking up. Not only that, but the hotel actually looked a little newer and nicer in the brochure, so we weren't complaining.


Well, we got there, learned they had upgraded our room for us because of the change (awesome!), got settled, took quick showers, and eagerly anticipated going to the shopping center nearby for some good ol' homegrown Mexican food. Hmmm.... it just hit me; that doesn't make sense. Whatever. On the way in, however, Summer had seen an Italian restaurant just at the end of the street our hotel was on. It was closer, and she had been jonesing for some of that, so I-- being the loving, caring, understanding, flexible, hungry husband I am-- conceded, and we headed to the Italian joint. Here's my journal entry (with a few picture-enhancing additions):

"We walked in and were immediately overwhelmed by the very stimulating decor, the racks of wine, the tables of breads, cheeses, and meats, and the fancy place-settings. A fountain was spewing forth it's continuous flow of water in the middle of the restaurant, a stage with a full band settup was in the corner, and the Sistine Chapel-like paintings were looming overhead, the characters in them seeming to whisper to us, 'you can't afford this, you can't afford this,' in that universal kid-known tune usually put to the words, 'na-na-na-na-naaaa-naa.' We were in over our heads. We were just two hungry people in shorts/jeans and matching T-shirts, who had just taken a quick shower to wash off the top layer of dirt and sweat that had caked on us from our trip. My immediate reaction? (in a rising tone of accelerating hysteria, culminating in an explosive finale of the last word) 'What were we THINKING?' This was all in my head of course. On the outside, I was calm, collected, cool, and other "c" words as well that describe my controlled countenance.

We decided to take a look at a menu to see if we could afford the place. But apparently, they assume that if you are the type of person who would eat at their restaurant, you wouldn't need to look at a menu before sitting down. Pretty presumptuous if you ask me! So we were seated. I started feeling more and more out of place, my anxiety levels rising at the thought of 1) paying thousands of Baht for dinner or 2) embarrassing ourselves by walking out of this almost empty restaurant with the eyes of almost all the waitstaff on us. As the host was laying out the nicely folded napkins onto our individual laps for us, who should come out but the chef himself-- a slightly overweight yet chic Italian man, who fits the bill perfectly-- to personally welcome us and tell us what the specials were. Good grief, did someone just turn up the heat? We were screwed!

He proceded to tell us about all the chicken, beef, and fish dishes that are in fancy sauces with cheese specially imported straight from Italy that melt in your mouth and such. I could have sworn by the way he was describing all the things he made that I would have entered some form of extasy by eating them, never wanting to eat anything else anywhere else ever. We sat politely, listening and thinking, 'can we just see a menu?' The hammer was about to fall. We (horror of all horrors) asked about his vegetarian dishes, and that's when it struck. You could just see the countenance on his face fall. It was almost like he was asking himself-- 'Vegetarian? Who on earth is vegetarian?' The next words out of his mouth were precisely, 'you.... both are vegetarian?' We just smiled and said yes. I didn't think we needed to tell him we were on a budget on top of that. He might have just had a heart attack right then and there. I don't remember much of what he said after that. I imagined him telling us to just get out of his restaurant, though.

Well, we stayed and ate. By this time we were too embarrassed to just get up and leave (I mean, they had already poured our water.... we were trapped). Summer got the margherita pizza-- the cheapest thing on the menu. I got the chef recommended spinach ravioli in a butter cream sauce with fresh-grated parmesean cheese. And that's all. No drinks, no appetizers, no dessert, no cheese platter. Only the complimentary bread basket common to most Italian restaurant meals. One service tax (10%) and one Value Added Tax (7%) later, we forked over our 795 Baht and left the restaurant, embarrassed and considerably less rich.

That being said, the atmosphere was impressive, the service was fantastic, the food was phenomenal, we did get to (when hopefully nobody was looking) share entrees, and the various breads at the beginning of the meal were some of the most amazing breads with sauces and spreads I've ever had. I think next time, we'll go with more money in our bank, nicer clothes on, and the confidence of fine dining connoisseurs. Then, maybe we can enjoy it a little more. It was just a little too intimidating for this simple lover of the finer things in life-- you know, Taco Bell."