In Cambodia, I was told, there are living two kinds of spiders. The one you can eat and the one you can not. The one you can eat are less big, the bigger ones are not to eat – except the tarantulas (?), which are fried a special dish. So the bigger ones are no spiders. So there are no big spiders in Cambodia. Explanation cambodian style, I told them. After a silly bet and some keywords later my competitors surrendered and accepted, that spiders are called spiders everywhere around the world, like humans are called humans, even if they don´t act human – or the spiders, who are not edible, just big and scary.
Of course it is bugging if every 10 min a seller comes along, establishing her/his stall, her/his sorrow, her/his destiny, her/his misery, her/his missing limbs, her/his dirty clothes, her/his hunger in front of you, next to your served breakfast/lunch/dinner, starring at it, a bunch of growling inners surrounding you. Don´t eat in Third World countries! It is annoying, when they greet you, with your hands in food and your mouth stuffed. Asking you how are you doing, smiling, friendly, sympathetic and welcoming. You wanna eat and not an hawaiian welcome celebration.
You stept into her/his shop, the streets of Siem Reap, baby! Entering a shop or a mall in Germany, imagine, hard to get a smile of the employee. Barely inviting exploring the offers. – Kind of notably, accepted, right? Even though, you complain anyway. Either you care about the exploitation nor you are not queen/king, even if you wanna consume HERE! Don´t waste the option being there, somewhere far. Nobody needs your complaints. But you work hard for your money so you might expect bit more respect for your consumption habits? As a compensation you can expect more service, yes, now other shall suffer for your convenience. Where you don´t complain? You know! Please get yourself a no-return ticket and go for it. Or just do it like me, order online, so you never have to deal with your ignorance, only the parcel office might talk blunt, hanging you up high-ranked on the reward board.
Of course they wanna sell, they have to sell. And selling is annoying people. What do you think advertisement is about, you blindworm of awareness. They don´t flood the streets, because this is a part of their culture you might expect, for you reports back home, your pictures to memorize the freaky trip to Asia before we got married and kids. A part of the fluffy differences, beggars, calling themselves sellers – because they basically sell. And ending up bankrupt will cause straight death, not devastation, that´s why they don´t recruit you as a cleaner for their home. They flood the streets on their wreckages, deaf dumb blind limbness, and you are one of this sea monsters, scare their history to shame. I could fucking jab your ballooning head for your expressive and worst poorness. Fucking holidays.
The french have to take a step back, the Chinese leading the phobias, prejudices and fury nowadays. I was sitting on a stretched veranda next to the sidewalk, enjoying my vegetarian burrito, after my first run since more than one and a half year, preparing for the Quarter Marathon in less than 2 weeks, regaining strength, a colourful curtained square of an ass appeared next to me, exactly next to me, not an arm stretch far. I could smell the waistband, running hot under the heat and hips. I turned around and as I wanted to please the chinese lady to take her blooming ass out of my sight and out of my dish, I realized she had her son between her legs, rubbing his back. Than he puked, just in front, blocking the front entrance of the restaurant, without any efforts to move her son less than 2 meters to the street or 3 meters back inside to the toilet. Instead he puked again, again, and once more, one step further on the sidewalk. Still, no efforts. She left without apologizing to the service staff… and this is why they spit in your bloody soups, you dumbass! Bloody categorizing. Bloody chinese holidays.