2 Days 2 Dates

Leaving a surprisingly fast connection at the internet cafe for the heat of Bangalore was rather unappealing but it had to be done. I had to find my way back to the train station after a night on the bus to catch my connection to Kochin. So there I was standing on the street corner waiting for a break in traffic to cross the street. Generally crossing the street can take anywhere from two to fifteen minutes. This latest attempt was more around the fifteen minute mark. People here stare. I think I mentioned it before but I'll say it again. The men crane their necks and have their mouths hanging open just looking at you as you go about doing the mundane things travelers have to do... such as crossing the street. So, it wasn't a big surprise when I heard a man's voice behind me ask "where are you going madame?" Rude as I am I didn't even turn around. Then he walked around me, a guy in a three piece suit pointing at me with his cell phone. Not bad looking. "It is not safe here for you to walk. You are not from here." I kept ignoring him. "Are you Indian?" I shook my head. Now, if I had a rupee for every time someone asks me that I could easily be financing another year of travel. "Would you like a tea or lassi?" And that is how I went on a date with a man in a three piece suit in Bangalore. He didn't take a shit right there on the street, sorry Denise, I know you were hoping for some Margaret Chow like observations. He said no one at the office would miss him because he was out for a meeting and they didn't know where he was. I left the cafe an hour later in a rickshaw to the train station.

The next day I was standing outside the internet cafe reading the Lonely Planet when some other dude just approached me and asked if I needed help with directions. He ended up taking me straight to the Kathakali theatre for the performance. I met a nice Canadian boy inside who was also staying at my hotel. After the performance the Canadian boy went to the bathroom and surprisingly enough the guy who walked me over to the theatre was still waiting for me. We walked back near my hotel and went for a drink on the rooftop of a building on Broadway where the horns of a thousand automobiles serenaded us from below. The local Kingfisher brew is delicious but beer is expensive in Kochin, Rs 100 for a large bottle. I know it works out to be only 3 bucks but it's usually $1.50 in every other city. He tried to get me drunk but I knew better. I insisted on paying for my own drink and after a couple of hours of lying to him I walked off to my hotel alone. I spun quite the yarn about my finance back home because it occured to me that being a dude, he may try to walk me back to the hotel once I had a couple of drinks. At the hotel the receptionist called me over and told me that the Canadian boy asked about me and the French dude had also checked into the same place. Surprise, surprise.