I Hope You Die in Bali

We turned right on the narrow lane in front of our hotel in Kuta, Bali, on the hunt for some Indonesian breakfast, which, as it turns out, is identical to Indonesian Lunch and Dinner. Which brings to mind a friend of mine (what's up Hatch!), who holds that that Mexican isn't real food, but only snack food, since it's mainly just different configurations of the same 5 ingredients, just placed on various bread products (mmmm Torta de carne asada mmmm). I don't agree with him. I love Mexican(s). I love Indonesian(s) as well.

But, as usual, I digress.

Right as we left the hotel, one of the ubiquitous hawkers and salesman of Tours (Rule #28 of Travel - No Tours, if you can avoid it) and Motorbike Rentals waved us down. Since we've talked to this gentleman before, promising that we'll return, I felt obliged to enter his shop to ask him about car rentals.  

Since nowadays everyone and their grandmother has a motorbike, public transportation on Bali is lacking. Public buses of various shapes and sizes do exist, mind you, but to put it simply, they ride quite infrequently, at least compared with other places we've visited thus far, they are slow, and they are unreliable. If you want to get somewhere quickly, a ride in a relatively expensive private transport shuttle van or even a chartered driver is in order.

And so, we decided to try our hand at renting a car. We've been using buses and the occasional train in our travels thus far, and the freedom of having our own mode of transportation was appealing. I've driven up and down rocky dirt tracks and forded alligator infested rivers in Costa Rica, navigated my way out of the godforsaken clusterfuck of Mexico City's traffic, toured the back roads of Poland and of course driven all over my home country. How difficult could Bali be? Or so we thought (and that, my friends, is called foreshadowing). 

We entered the gentleman's shop, quick to tell him that we're on our way for breakfast and are only interested in quickly getting a general idea on car rental prices. 

Mistake #1 - We took his offer to sit down.

Mistake #2 - We allowed him to call his brother, who owns the cars, to get pricing.

Mistake #3 - We took the phone to talk to his brother directly.

The guy thought he had us, hook, line, and sinker, and started drawing up the paperwork. Our stomachs grumbling, we weren't ready to lock in the details just yet, and we began to get up, promising to return later that day (and fully intending to, in the spirit that obliged me to enter the shop that morning). In a place where everyone is selling the exact same thing at the exact same prices, it is almost understandable for him to wave his hand in discuss at us, seemingly stopping short of spitting at our feet. I was taken aback by his reaction, and quickly left, vowing not to give any of my business to him.

The next day, we ran into the same guy on the way back from dinner. "Where were you? You said you would come back about the car!", he said. Do I lie to him, telling we decided against it, or do I tell him the truth, explaining to him that I thought he was a dick and I'd rather take my business elsewhere. In my never-ending quest to civilize the world and point out the folly of other's actions (tongue slightly planted in cheek), I decided on the later.

"Well, to be honest, I didn't like how we ended our last meeting".

"What do you mean?", he asked, confused. 

"When I told you that we'll return, I meant it. But, when you were openly and demonstratively disgusted with us and with the fact that you didn't land your sale, I decided against it. I found it insulting, and I'd rather give my business to somebody who doesn't insult me", I tried to explain (in simpler terms of course).

His face turned red. His mouth began to move silently, his mind obviously searching for the words to curse me in the language I could understand, finally uttering ...

"I hope you die in Bali".

I gave him my best look of disapproval that I could, a look that has since served me well (most recently, when I was accused of stealing a DVD player out of a hotel room, but more on that in a different post, maybe). But he was lost in his fury and stomped off back to his shop.

Sigh.