Restart the section "The same story." Today, our full -time author of the same stories, Alexander Perunov, who has already loved you about the stories about the abduction of the horse , the unequal struggle with Anaconda and revenge Rednek with dead Skuns , tells how he ended up in the thick of global events, namely, popular unrest in Thailand, but found adventures on a completely different street. If you also got into military coups , riots, became witnesses to terrorist attacks, participated in popular unrest, launches from Cape Canaveral or just passed by, we are waiting for your stories!
Here is the task for you. From point A to point B the guy flies. Between these two points, the guy has a transplant in Bangkok. At this time, mass riots take place there. The confrontation between the opposition democratic party and the pro-government movement of the "Red Red Red Businessmen" is poured into skirmishes on the streets of the city. People demand the resignation of the Prime Minister. Numerous processions and collections are held everywhere, which are accompanied by propaganda, noticeable at every step. Question: How can a guy get from point A to paragraph B, bypassing the adventure to his ass? Answer: Do not linger in Bangkok.
I won’t get dark: I was a guy from the task. I flew from point A to point B, my transplant was in Bangkok, I had free time, free money, and I had never been delayed in Bangkok, a free -thinking. And so, when I found out that my transplant would be there, I immediately decided to stay for a couple of days. Of course, I knew about the riots in the capital, but the case happened in March 2014. If you suddenly forgot, I can recall: March 2014 was rich in events. The Olympiad in Sochi ended, the next Oscar was on the nose, a referendum on the status of Crimea was loomed right away nearby, and an airplane disappeared over the South China Sea. Against the background of all these events, in order to fully illuminate the situation in Thailand, there were simply no remaining at the news channels. Therefore, when I told my parents that I would stay in Bangkok, we had approximately the following dialogue: “Listen, you're careful, there seems to be some kind of riots now,” Mom said. “Mom, the riots were in my room when I lived with you, and there are popular unrest,” I retorted. - Yes? Well, okay, but I will still worry, - my mother summed up with calmness in her voice.
Then I called my father. The conversation with his father was more pragmatic: “You are there ... ahem, well ... protect yourself, in short, and be more careful,” my old man summed up, apparently, looking at my desire to linger in Bangkok, some kind of cornerstone, which lies in all male acts.
I promised to protect myself in all the known methods, after which we said goodbye, and I went to prepare for the departure.
The next morning I was already in a hotel that was in the Chinese quarter of Bangkok. Neither before nor after I was in a city that would be overwhelmed by a wave of riots, but, oddly enough, Bangkok did not make the impression of such a place that morning. The tourists languishing from the heat were eagerly wandered, local markets were drowning in the flow of customers, young smiling Thais sat in the bars, and I even had to defend a small turn when I tried to visit the golden Buddh. No, there was no unrest there, the maximum than it smelled was a soup from shark fins. The only thing that issued the political internodibrite of Bangkok was the tents of the demonstrators who stood everywhere: along the streets, in parks, in squares and so on. However, I did not notice their inhabitants.
Photo published a_perunov (@a_perunov) Feb 5 2014 at 3:17 PST
The day flew by. A long walk and new impressions exhausted me, and I did not notice how the evening came. It was rumbled unpleasantly in the stomach, it was necessary to look for a place where one could eat. There are no special problems with the search for a cafe or restaurant in Bangkok, but I wanted something special, so I went to Tripadvisor, found a place that corresponded to my aesthetic and financial preferences, jumped into the subway and went to dinner.
When I drove to the desired station and went to the surface, I did not even understand where I got. Directly in front of me was a dense, endless crowd of people who waving national flags, chanting some slogans that sounded quite funny in Thai. The sun had long disappeared, and this procession was a picture, absolutely opposite to what I saw during the day. As it turned out later, in the daytime the fighters for justice fell asleep, escaping from the heat, and when it became a little cooler, they moved to active actions.
Photo published a_perunov (@a_perunov) Feb 4 2014 at 9:01 pst
I was interested. Since the procession looked quite peacefully, I joined the protesters, and we slowly moved along the blocked highway. While we walked, from the tents standing along the road, sleepy Thais crawled out, wiped their eyes, turned their agitlakates and joined us. Along the way, we came across militarized assistance points that distributed sets for free: bandages, plasters, water and condoms, so, to a heap. Slowly, I would even say that it was lazy, our procession reached a huge intersection of five or six roads, which was more like the square. On the square there was a considerable scene, of which there were many in the city, as I had already noticed by that time. People in costumes who checked the equipment, clearly preparing for the performance, rushed along the stage. More and more people were pulled on the square, they approached from all sides. I stepped aside, feeling a little uncomfortable, and began to watch what was happening from the side. After some time, the low-growing full Taja rose on stage, which approached the microphone and examined the crowd with a furious gaze. “Chan Taaaakaaan Khui,” he growled the crowd.
I don’t know what this means, and I’m not sure that I heard him correctly, but in any case, no matter what he said there, the crowd gusted encouragingly. After that, the little Tatets began to broadcast. We must pay tribute to him. Although I did not understand a word from his speech, judging by the reaction of the crowd, which was buzzing more and stronger, he was excellent as a speaker.
All this went on for some time, and I already began to get bored, when suddenly one interesting thing happened. Quite suddenly, during the next speech overflowed by emotions, from the crowd, following all the laws of the genre, a lonely hand shot up, and the next second, a couple of centimeters from the speaker broke the egg.
After another second, a dozen eggs flew towards the stage, then a reinforcement of some vegetables and shoes appeared at the airborne group of eggs.
Tatets instantly retreated, and the crowd had a number of questions that were addressed to the eggs. The eggs, however, found supporters, and the matter slowly but surely was turning to a mass fight. Someone fists flashed in the air, police ran towards the stage, and I, not wanting to be a victim of political repression, hastily and cowardly retreated.
I was hiding in a hurry, so I did not look at the map, but simply hastened to turn over the nearest corner. Now I was walking along the lane, which looped as I usually loop after several glasses of rum. The lanterns blinked ahead, I accelerated my pace, turned to the next corner and ... my jaw slowly crawled towards the asphalt.
The sight that appeared to my eyes, I remembered for my whole life. I think that Sodom and Gomorrah looked like this on the sunset of their days. The street that I went to was simultaneously a museum of all -consuming vice and an adult attractions fleet. I began to look around absurdly. I never considered myself a chaste righteous. I have seen many scenes that could confuse the respectable Christian. For example, I watched as in a fit of passion on each other my friends, who were not embarrassed by the fact of the presence of other people in the premises; I participated in different games, the essence of which was reduced, for example, to the transfer of an ice of ice through my mouth to each other; Well, two months before I arrived in Bangkok, I completely played a scene from the film “From Sunset to Dawn” with one cute lady, in which Salma Hayek strokes Tarantino with a whiskar, pushing her bare leg. Damn it, but I was even in Amsterdam and already dealt with brothels, but if you draw an analogy, the Amsterdamic quarter of the red lamps was an expensive supermarket, with high -quality service and beautiful decoration, and the local cowboy street, which was so named in honor of the American - a black pilot Edwards, who decided to relax after the war in Vietnam. Bangkok, and remaining there, mired in fornication, was more like a huge eastern bazaar for perverts of all varieties and colors.
Photo published a_perunov (@a_perunov) Feb 4 2014 at 8:59 PST
My jaw continued to lie on the asphalt, but the first shock had already passed, and my eyes were used to bright lanterns, one could take a fixation of the darkness. “Keep Calm, Pal,” came from somewhere on the right.
I turned sharply. A couple of meters from me, leaning against the wall of the house, stood a fat American and smiled at me, holding out a bottle of whiskey. A young taise sat at his feet, her head was at the level of his width, making reciprocating movements. Honestly, I was struck by disgust. I shook my head negatively, expressing my reluctance to drink with this Borovo from one bottle. Borov grunted contemptuously, abutingly buried, and with his free hand he pressed Taika’s head tightly to his groin.
I went along the street, led by curiosity and desire, which I have not yet suspected. The East is a subtle business. While on a neighboring street people defended their rights and fought for the eternal, pop hits sounded from each dynamics, and in local bars there were a man affected by the vice. Cowboy Street was outside of time and space.
The ancient Greeks believed that one who is not subject to vices was clearly ill. Remembering this, I thought that either the Greeks were moved on the whole head, or they did not see what I saw.
Women were sitting on the knees in men, from one to three pieces, depending on the size of the man. Here, a bare chest flickered on the right, then someone shouted a bottle with a cry, on the table is a woman, from whose stomach alcohol is licked, the old grandfather pinched behind the Thai boy, who brought him beer.
My observations were interrupted suddenly and completely unceremonious: I felt that someone touched me.
While I was watching what was happening, I did not notice how the half -naked representative of the ancient profession crept in to me, who now smiled sweetly at me. In one hand she had a cigarette, the other she gently squeezed my dignity. -Hello, U Wanna Bom-Bom? - Smiling and terribly carpet English, she asked.
I looked fascinated at her. She grabbed me with the same ease, as if holding in her hand not mine, ahem, a member, but her sandwich for breakfast. After a minute, I could only decide my head negatively. Taika pouted her lips. - R U Sure? EVERYONE WANT BOM-Bom! - the stranger continued to set.
Feeling how the blood rushed, I shook my head even more, because if I managed to add the blood where it was not necessary to add, I would no longer be able to turn away: for her it would be a reinforced concrete argument. I somehow got out of her embrace and flew back at someone a man. - Fuck, moron! - yelled a man. - The moron itself, fucking! - I answered on the machine.
The man hovered for a second, then laughed, after which he looked at me appraisingly and asked: - First time, in Thailand? - No, it was already. Yes, and in Bangkok was also. Just in such a place for the first time, ”I answered honestly. “You have not seen what you can find in the suburbs,” the man whispered conspiratorially.
And I thought with fear and trepidation, what a crazy pervert needed to be so as not to find what you are looking for here. “Okay, come,” the man said, noting that I am plunging into my thoughts, “by the way, here you have a gift from me.” You need to drink.
With these words, he handed me a bottle of vodka and a bag of dried scorpions, and then disappeared into the crowd. In one, this man was right: I urgently needed to drink something. After throwing Scorpions somewhere under my feet, I put a bottle of vodka by the bosom and headed for the nearest bar. Having ordered a beer for myself, for the first time in the evening I calmly exhaled and was about to take the first sip, when I suddenly saw it.
Beautiful, young, with a charming smile and an amazing ass, she wiped a neighboring table and hummed an unpretentious motive. I swallowed, feeling the demons of flesh slowly drag me into their nets. I myself did not notice that I did not just look at her, but devoured a glance how I had not devoured a single woman for a long time. But she noticed it. She leisurely went behind the rack, poured herself a stack of tequila and, winking at me, overturned it in one gulp. At that moment, I already knew how far we would go with her tonight. Continuing to look at me, she filled two more piles and headed for my table. -Hello, Wanna Bom-Bom? - crouching to me, she asked.
"Wanna Bom-Bom ... Lord, is it really so simple?" - I only managed to think. And after another twenty minutes we sat in a taxi and rushed through the rebellious city towards my hotel.
While we were driving, I drank for courage. I drank exactly so much that courage was added, but not so much that this story began with the terrifying words "I thought it was a woman." However, I still quite vaguely remember how we got to the hotel and went up to my room. My companion asked for a moment and retired to the bathroom. I sat on the edge of the bed and began to wait for her. Probably from the outside I looked very stupid. While I was sitting, the mind began to return to me, I thought about what an immoral act I was committing, thinking about a girl whom I recently swore at fidelity and love, thought about a smelly man who was sucked in a lane, and about a nasty old man who was pawing a minor Thaz, suddenly became disgusting to me, and very lonely. And I firmly decided that as soon as my new acquaintance leaves the bathroom, I will immediately show her to the door. And then she went out. She went out in one towel, which, however, dropped almost immediately. She came up to me and did something that I did not expect from her: she gently patted her hair and smiled at one of the purest smiles that I saw in this life. “How simple,” flashed in my head before we fell into the arms of the night.
The next morning I woke up in a state of pleasant intelligence. Carefully, in order not to wake my girlfriend, I crawled out from under the blanket and wanted to shed to the toilet in order to order a breakfast from there, but already turned to the bed in the doorway, because he suddenly wanted to see her asleep. The bed was empty. I looked into the toilet. There was no one there either. Bringing the bad, I checked the pockets of Short. They were virgin. Smiling stupidly, I examined the room. As it turned out, not only the wallet disappeared, and the phone, as well as the tablet and another camera disappeared with it.
Having cursed loudly, I ran at the reception and tried to find out when my companion left and whether she left contacts for communication. Of course, this idiotic idea was unsuccessful, and I returned to the room. The state of pleasant maintenance has long disappeared, and instead of it there was an unpleasant feeling that I was divorced like a sucker in the bazaar. I finished yesterday's vodka, but it did not make it easier. I sat in a daze for some time, reflecting on the most expensive bom-bearing that I had in my life, as well as what I will do without money and means of communication. And then with a smile I remembered my first boss, who always advised not to store all the eggs in one basket. And how could I forget that the day before, before going to the city, I left a significant part of the cash and a bank card in the safe? I went to the safe and, with the third attempt, remembered the access code. Everything turned out to be in place. The room immediately became lighter, and I felt a little better. Trying to accept the idea that you need to easily part with things, I had a leisurely lifting and moving into the city.
It has not changed at all in a day. Subscribing demonstrators slept in tents, people devoured watermelons and dried creatures, drivers of tuk-tuks bred inexperienced tourists. Life continued.
The evening again came imperceptibly, and I, imperceptibly for myself, was again on that same street. My legs somehow brought me to the same bar where I met my temptress yesterday. I sat down at the same table in the corner and ordered myself the same beer. Thoughts about how I washed me in the literal and figurative sense, returned to me, I closed my eyes and began to rewind time back, trying to find an excuse for myself. But there was no excuse. Even if I knew in advance that they would throw me, I would still take her to the hotel. So she was good. And then I opened my eyes and saw her again. She stood at the bar and chatted cheerfully about something with two Europeans, obviously trying to crank the same trick with them, which she turned with me last night. Не веря в то, что она оказалось настолько глупой, не веря в то, что мне выпал второй шанс, который выпадал мне не так часто, как хотелось бы, я злорадно улыбнулся, кинул деньги на стол, и, стараясь не привлекать к себе лишнего внимания, вышел из бара.
После этого я подошёл к ближайшему полицейскому, который стоял на углу, и поведал ему слезливую историю, как молодой турист впервые прибыл в великий город, с целью ознакомиться с культурным наследием и местным колоритом, но вместо этого был соблазнён одной из местных (я благоразумно умолчал о том факте, что она была проституткой, так как, хоть де-факто местная проституция живёт и процветает, де-юре она строжайше запрещена), после чего был ограблен, но, потратив день на поиски, я нашел её и, отдавая дань местной системе правосудия, обратился к ближайшему блюстителю порядка, чтобы последний помог в её задержании.
Тайский мент молча слушал меня и кивал. Не знаю, сколько он понял из моего рассказа, но когда я жестом пригласил его следовать за мной в треклятый бар, он последовал за мной. Мы зашли в бар, я указал ему на воровку, он неспешной походкой приблизился к ней, они обменялись парой фраз, после чего он взял её под руку и подошёл ко мне. — Follow me, sir, — мягко, но настоятельно попросил он.
«Попалась!» — тихо ликовал я про себя. Далее события развивались быстро. Нас привели в полицейский участок и развели по разным комнатам для допроса. Спустя полчаса ко мне в комнату зашёл тайский дяденька в форме, который оказался полисменом не последней должности, а следом за ним зашёл тайский дяденька в костюме, который оказался переводчиком. А дальше я слушал их около часа, попеременно офигевая от происходящего и поражаясь собственному идиотизму. Согласно их версии истории, я сам соблазнил ту девушку и, напоив её, чуть ли не силой увёз в отель. Разумеется, это были готовы подтвердить «свидетели» из бара. Заперев её в номере, я грязно надругался над ней, несколько раз ударил, после чего вышвырнул за дверь. Ah, yes. Разумеется, она была несовершеннолетней.
Сейчас я со смехом вспоминаю, как меня пугали «Бангког Хилтоном», самой страшной тюрьмой в Таиланде, про которую даже есть одноимённый сериал с Николь Кидман. Я смеюсь над тем, как, дрожа всем телом и чуть ли не плача, я долго объяснял родственникам, за что меня собирались посадить и почему я не так силён духом, как Николь Кидман. Я смеюсь над капитаном тайской полиции и над довольным выражением лица, в тот момент, когда он получил свою взятку. Сейчас всё произошедшее кажется мне одной большой шуткой.
Но, улетая из Бангкока, я в который раз убедился, что не всегда стоит верить женщинам. Ну а проституткам и подавно не стоит.
Медиафутболка «Суворов» Футболка с авторским дизайном от творческой группы «Bojemoi!». Мы запускаем новую серию одежды, приуроченной к актуальным событиям этого безумного мира. Носите футболки с цитатами и узнавайте своих людей на улице Купить за 1700 рублей Text Alexander Perunov St. Petersburg Illustrations Sasha Serdyukova Moscow
I ended up in Bangkok during the riots and almost got into Bangkok Hilton • Baten'ka, da vy transformer • RIMA — Russian Independent Media Archive
Медиафутболка «Суворов» Футболка с авторским дизайном от творческой группы «Bojemoi!». Мы запускаем новую серию одежды, приуроченной к актуальным событиям этого безумного мира. Носите футболки с цитатами и узнавайте своих людей на улице Купить за 1700 рублей 
Text Alexander Perunov St. Petersburg 
Illustrations Sasha Serdyukova Moscow 