I Want To Be A Better Person...

Tonight, I was wandering town, plans set on crashing a couple of the swank hotel bars for cocktails and something to eat. I ended up at this place I read about online instead called Hakka Republic. It was across from the Shangri La, where I was planning on going eventually. Hakka was right down the street from some of the more obnoxious bars in KL, where women stand out front asking me if I want "young girl cheap price." I didn't. I don't.

When I walked into Hakka, it was empty. It was sunday night and that was about the only reason. From what I hear, the place does well...and from the food and service and style, it better. The guy who greeted me at the door said they were doing a sunday buffet, and for an extra 30 MR, it was all you could drink Tiger draft. I hadn't been eating much since showing up in Malaysia and went for a long run in the morning...tomorrow is going to be a killer, so all day I was thinking about eating a big plate of good food. Though I never expected it to be as good as it turned out to be. In truth, the entire buffet was all for me - everything someone could dream of - tiger prawns to filet, short rib to pumpkin soup, handmade pasta to bread pudding. Knocked me out. Knocked me out.

At some point, the exec chef came out to talk to me. Then, the sous chef. They changed clothes and closed the kitchen and the exec chef came out and took some pictures of me loving his restaurant. They told me to finish my drink and took me to the parking lot. I got into one of the cook's cars and we drove to Chinatown because the sous chef didn't want me to get caught in any of the Skybar and Luna Bar traps that most foreigners get caught into. There, we wandered the streets looking for the perfect Durian - "corpse fruit" - banned in public places because it fucking stinks - but is also like nothing you or I have ever tasted - think cross between a mango and avocado. When we found a stand, we four sat down at a table on the street and ate this thing - three chefs and one fucking tourist. They wouldn't let me pay for a thing. Not the Durian, not the water it took to cleanse us from the smell of a "corpse," not anything. We walked for a bit and talked for a bit and then got back in the car. We talked about all the shit in the world before they dropped me off at my hotel, wanting nothing from me but company. Nothing. I told them there's a marathon in KL on June 27th that might bring me back and they said they hoped to see me. Then they smiled and drove off. And I...

I still don't know what to say. Thailand turned me so cynical, so cynical, everyone working something. Loved it, beautiful, but still. And walking away from this, tonight made me want to weep, made me want to give thanks to a thousand ears and not one of them gave a shit about hearing it. They just were what they were...are what they are...

And I have a lot of work to do.