I find myself a little pop-up pavement ‘restaurant’, mainly full of locals and order myself some noodles. I sit down on one of the mini plastic stools (not made for anyone over 5’6’ but, hey! When in Rome and all that.) and a really sweet guy brings my food over and has a chat with me as I wrestle with getting my Thai sim card into my phone. A few minutes later, as I’m tucking in a guy comes up to me, who I recognise as the same guy who had called out something to me about looking good, earlier that afternoon.
“Hey, how are you? You remember me? I called to you earlier””
“Uh-huh”
“Where are you from?”
“London”
“I’m from Guinea Bissau. Are you alone?”
“Sort of”
“Is that real?” (gesturing to the big turquoise ring I bought in Tibet)
“What do you mean?”
“The ring, is it real? Are you married?”
“Er, yes, it’s real, but it’s on the wrong hand… I’m not married”
“Oh, we can be friends, I thought maybe you are afraid of guys so you pretend to be married”
Oh brother! Go away.
“I’m meeting my boyfriend”
“Oh, can I get an address or something, so we can stay in touch?”
“No. I’m meeting my boyfriend”
At this point the Thai guy on the food stall comes over and hovers… Guinea Bissau makes a swift exit… some things never change, eh? Including my lack of interest in men who make cat calls at lone women walking down the street…
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