The Pink Tuk-Tuk Chasing My Suitcase

“Hold tight, and don't stand up! Your suitcase just turned left. That green car, I know its horn.” The pink tuk-tuk cuts across the traffic at an angle, its engine sputtering, the wind knocking one strand loose from her bun. She holds the handlebar with one hand and flashes a thumbs-up at the rearview mirror, where a jasmine garland whips around wildly. “Don't worry, there's no road in Bangkok I can't find. The third alley is a dead end, so we're not taking the third!” A coconut cart is parked smack in the middle of the road. She leans on the horn, and you, in the back, grip the handrail while the sun-baked roof burns hot. “We'll talk fare after we catch up. And if we don't catch up... we'll talk fare anyway, but double!”