9am
I awoke to the sound of a hoover sucking last night’s buffet off of my shoes. I was a mess. The Malay had abandoned me and I had lost my phone. After performing the traditional walk of shame past the cleaning staff, I found the exit and stepped out into the light the way a mole surfaces after taking a wrong turn. The golden arches of McDonald’s beckoned me and I spent my last 19RMB on a revolting meal claiming to have an affiliation with breakfast. I was so buggered that my only option was to rest my bones on the table and close my eyes. Fortunately this is not as disgraceful in Asia and I had a few comrades alongside me, also wearing similar consequences for the night’s events.
10am
I woke up for the second time that day, in one of those blind panics you have after realizing you’ve sent a saucy text message to your girlfriend’s father instead of her. My train to Shanghai was leaving in two hours. I bolted. My current priorities were.
1. Make the train
2. Devise a cunning explanation as to how my phone was stolen
3. Cry
My only money was at the hostel, as were my belongings and Kay who I would murder if time allowed it. I had to catch the subway to the hostel, then to the train station. An unforeseen benefit of smelling like a coal miner was that I was given ample space on the subway, so I could add ostracized to my list of emotions.
11am
I arrived at the hostel, got my things and asked Sophie if:
- I would make my train? (“no”)
- She could possibly poison Kay? (“probably not”)
I got back on the subway, again given a wide berth due to my appearance and odor. I now had 45 minutes to get there. It would be close.
11:52am
I got to the station, ran to the subway exit and slid into the slot what I thought was my subway card – but of course was my 1st class train ticket.
11.57am
Had security, engineers and locals trying to understand what I’d done with my ticket. I was now blaming them for not understanding English or Korean, although I would have no idea how to explain myself in either tongue.
12:00pm
Ticket in hand, I was sprinting through the terminal screaming “WAIT!” A certain terrorist threat.
12:02pm
At the train gates, inserted my ticket. Denied. (Priority 3 off the list)
No phone, no ticket and no excuse to the officials. I’d have to buy another ticket, this time a second-class. I thought about that glorious, air-conditioned 1st class seat, coasting so Shanghai – with nobody on it. I wondered how long it would be before someone would be using it to store their squid legs. I felt like I was walking on squid legs. I bought the 2nd class ticket and because of my brief 1st class status felt more entitled, but looked more impoverished than anyone else. I got to my seat and saw a man, a man in my seat. I had heard about these situations and how to deal with them. Call the conductor – show him your ticket – he’ll sort it out. Not today. I showed him my ticket like it was an FBI badge. There was zero courtesy and zero cultural sensitivity. I put my bag in the cabin above and looked at him curiously, wondering why he was even considering the challenge. He started out something but I shook my head, and I saw the cogs beginning to turn in his mind. He smelt me, looked me up and down, and left. I sat down, and my neighbor followed him.
The conductor ambled down the aisle, alerted by the commotion and here to sort out the dispute. I’d been told on, no doubt about it, and I was in the wrong. By the time he got to me though, I was out cold. “Foreigner sleeping”. But this time, it was far from a scam.
