grandma’s monkey business

We sat on the bus and thought about our trip so far.

“Are we boring?” Boyfriend asked me. I tried to answer diplomatically but the truth was… yes. We were both giant sticks-in-the-mud. We were two unimpressed old biddies out to see the world then criticise it. We had already had an altercation with a tour guide, complained about our local representative and lectured people about respecting important sites (namely, the ANZAC grave at River Kwai).

The day’s tour guide offered us the opportunity to get out and see a monkey show and, of course, we scoffed. Monkeys should only be in the wild; exploitation; can’t encourage this behaviour; yada yada yada. We weren’t paying for that!

Then came the dreaded question. “Honey, are we boring?” We compared ourselves to some of our friends. Would our friends see the monkey show? Yes. Did our friends usually seem to have a lot more fun than we did? Yes. So it was settled… We would see the damn monkey show.

We tried to enjoy it, we really did. We even had our photos taken with one of them. But we just couldn’t hack it and raced out of there as soon as it was over.

Outside, one of the girls on the tour asked if we’d been to see it and when we replied the affirmative and gave her our wrap up she said, “Yeah, I didn’t go. I don’t want to encourage that sort of behaviour.” We were put in our place!

So 400 Baht down, 30 minutes later we realised we might as well get back in the mud, because that’s where we belong.

a fun but terrible person

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