An average day for me in Bangkok is, well, not so average. I begin my day completing the three Ss' (Shit-Shower-Shave; minus the first one, that comes later). I'm required by time constraints to accomplish this feat in less than 20-minutes, which is trying, but essential. Otherwise, I'll be forced to endure a balls deep subway ride in a pool of human flesh, some of which permeates animal byproduct stank. Although, I also occasionally enjoy an inadvertent uni-girl groping.
A quick moto ride to the subway station, a quick smoke, and a saunter through an open air market, brings me to the subway. The subway ride usually lasts 10-mins. Then, the quickest way to work is of course another moto ride. There are two places from which to catch a ride. One is usually 15 people deep, under a shanty, and I'm usually the only male. The other is on a curb with only a few people in line. Thank god I discovered this god send.
This ride is relatively fucking psychotic compared to the first one. Imagine eight lanes of grid locked traffic, flowing in alternating directions with hundreds of motos weaving in and out of the metal mass. I hang on for dear life and clinch my metaphorical bible on this one.
Nevertheless, I usually make it to work on time, albeit sweaty and somewhat deranged, but always thankful. For the first two hours I look extremely busy, when in fact I am doing absolutely nothing constructive. Then it hits me. Pangs, not pangs of hunger, but pangs of having to take a massive shit.
I've always been disappointed with my bodily functions. I would prefer to take a dump in the privacy of my own abode. However, my biological clock will not allow me the pleasure of privacy and the privilege of using an Asian ass washer. It's like it takes my bowels two hours to warm up.
My choice of dump locations is entirely contingent upon what I consumed the night before. If it's sushi, then I use the public toilet with the much higher grade toilet paper that is specially suited for mud dumps. If its a highly fibrous food, then the staff restroom with a much more coarse grain of TP is acceptable.
Although, not preferred, because someone once turned out the lights and I had to wipe my ass while holding a lighter. After the duty is done, I have a cup of coffee, and pretend to work some more. I can't say this routine is that bad, it makes the work days go quickly, bringing on the debauchery laden weekends with surprising speed.
Modern technology truly is a blessing. We can communicate with loved ones from halfway around the world, look up any factoid at will, and accomplish a multitude of other mind numbing feats.