I have been bitching quite a bit about foreigners already. I know this. Furthermore, I am a foreigner myself, and thus not so different from those people I am bitching about. I know this. Still, even when keeping all this in mind, my biggest burden on this journey so far has honestly been
the fellow traveller.
Not just any traveller, I’m talking about the ones you meet in cheap hostels or bars, the ones that travel with no purpose besides having nothing better to do. The ones that take advantage of the fact that living in Southeast Asia is cheaper than wherever they’re from, which allows them to spend a larger percentage of their budget on beer and wasting time. The ones that rather immerse in self-pity than getting some actual shit done in their lives. The ones that seem to never actually have used their brain that much either.
These people drive me NUTS! Want to know why?
They tell me stupid jokes. Moan about their pathetic lives. Want to impress me by the fact that they read The Millennium Trilogy. They bitch about ex-girlfriends or lost loves. About fighting with their parents. They permanently invade my personal space bubble. They get stuck on you like bubblegum sticks in your hair.
… And then they casually suggest that they maybe possibly perhaps could travel along with me?
Go to Indonesia, why not?
Because, after all that talking about themselves, they conclude that they – hold on tight – they LIKE me.
Moreover, they actually seem to expect I like them back too!
I don’t know what these people are looking for, but I do know they shamelessly try to get it, whatever ‘it’ may be, out of you. A ticket for a free ride out of cluelessness?
I have my scissors ready, you fools. No more gum in my hair.