Lots of Yelling

If Friday night was the early 1940s, then today is 1948. When I wrote yesterday, I was still quite sick. I tried to book a cheap hotel for today, but they were full. So I booked an expensive hotel, just because I was so sick. I figured that it'd be nice to throw up in a private bathroom.

On my way back to the hotel that I was still in, a bit of yelling occured. Whenever I go anywhere, the merchants that line both sides of the sidewalks always holler at me to buy their goods. It's annoying, but I understand they're just trying to make a living. Most are pretty respectful and take a "no" or "no thanks" and leave me alone. So this happened, I said "no," and a guy walking the other way heard that and started mocking me. "No, no, no," he said. I was still sick and not about to put up with that shit. I turned and glarred at him. "No," he mocked me again. Then I started following him, screeming, "What the fuck!" His "no's" went from mocking to pleading. His two friends grabbed him and were telling him to shutup and rushed him away. He flailed his hands in submission, trying to convey that he didn't mean anything by his original "no."

I went back to my extremely small room and took a nap (I'm lucky I'm short. The room was the width of my wingspan and the length of a normal sized bed). I woke up and felt great. I was actually hungry! I found a bar and restaurant and went in because I knew it was the only thing open at 10pm.

Everyone who worked there shook my hand and I was wisked upstairs where there was blasting Hindi music and men sitting in couches displayed around the circumfrance of the room. The women stood in the middle. I thought it was weird. I ordered a half tandoori chicken, not wanting to push my stomach's luck. I made a special point about the "half" part. Then the women walked over to the men and took money from the men's hands. Evidently I was in some kind of Indian hooker bar. I looked down and away. Of course there was the customary creepy old white man present, with an even creepier smile on his face.

A waiter asked me, "What country are you from?"
"America."
"Nice." He thought for a second, "Your leader George Bush is my favorite leader."
"Bad," I replied. He motioned like he agreed. I thought, 'This guy's a tool.'

I finally got my tandoori chicken and it was really good. When I got the bill, they charged me for a full, which was double the price. I could've paid and went on my way, but I decided to flip out. "I told you a million times, half!" it was more it like 8 times, "That's fucking bullshit! You're an asshole!" waving my finger in the guy's face.

Also yesterday, I stepped on a Muslim guy's prayer mat, which was played just outside of my door. I told him sorry and he said it was ok and seemed genuine.

Now things are great. My hotel room is a palace. I have a train ticket for tomorrow to Hubli and then on to Hampi. I have toilet paper. I can eat. Life is sweet.