The tuk-tuk incident.

Tuk-tuk: a motorized rickshaw.

In Southeast Asia, tuk-tuks are the ubiquitous mode of transportation. Everywhere you go, it's "Tuk-tuk, lady?" Sometimes as many as ten times in a single block. On a good day, it can get a bit annoying. Today was not a good day.

I was wandering around Bangkok with no real destination in mind. Just checking out some temples and random other points of interest, when a man came up to me, inquiring, "Tuk-tuk, lady? Where you go?"

"Nowhere," I replied. "Just walking."

"You want to see the giant Buddha? The lucky Buddha? Government buildings?"

"How much?"

"70 Baht." (That's just over $2.)

For a three-site return trip, I thought 70 Baht was pretty good.

"Ok, sure."

It started out fine. The giant Buddha was, indeed, giant, and the lucky Buddha may well have been lucky. But the government buildings were where everything went sour. As we were about to depart the lucky Buddha, Mr. Tuk-tuk Driver said, "Ok, now we go to the factory."

Uhhh...factory? That wasn't on the agenda. Of course, I'd heard about the tuk-tuk scam where they try to take you to random shops where they get a kickback for everything you buy. But I was not falling for it. Or was I?

We argued for a solid five minutes over whether or not I was going to the factory. I was very adamant that I wasn't. He was very adamant that I was. When it became apparent that the "government buildings" were some sort of bullshit code for a jewelry manufacturer that's supervised by the Thai Government, I said I just wanted to be dropped off where I started.

He wasn't having it. I had to at least walk through the factory for him to get his free petrol (I'm guessing this is the form kickbacks take here).

I just wanted to be back in a place I recognized. So, I agreed to walk through the factory. And I did. But he still wasn't satisfied. Next, he wanted to take me to a garment factory, because I hadn't spent enough time in the jewelry place to get his petrol. He refused to take me anywhere else. And that's when I lost it. The guy's English wasn't all that great to begin with, but he should now be well acquainted with every four-letter word in it.

In our first argument, I had made the mistake of paying him half of our agreed-upon fare. But there was no way I was letting him get the other half. Instead, I stormed off and caught a cab back to the familiar chaos of Khao San Road. It took a banana pancake with Nutella and a beer for me to simmer down.

Tuk-tuk drivers beware: I am no longer a happy or passive passenger. Bangkok is turning me into a bitch.