2 motorbikes, 2 thumbs and 3 money grubbers

I left my house yesterday only to find that neither of my motorbikes would start. The first one I hadn't driven for a while so I understood when she only coughed and sputtered. Oh well, I thought, I'll deal with that later. I pushed her back up the incline beyond the security gate and wheeled out my other bike. That one wouldn't start either. Sputtered and died. Even the usually reliable kickstart did nothing. I resisted the temptation to push the bike over in the street and I laughed to show everyone that I was really enjoying the experience.

Something is in the air, I thought. Could my own energy have affected the bikes? I had just done some qigong and energy work to open my chakras. I wonder. I could feel the stares from the tuk tuk drivers on the distant corner. I could feel a sense of pity on the foreigner who had two bikes that didn't work. I have only recently realized that having two older motorbikes basically equates to having two problems. One is plenty. I didn't have many options at this point so I wheeled my bike down the street to the sidewalk mechanic around the corner.

I'd been to this guy before. He knows my bike. He has two thumbs on his left hand. Or is it his right hand? I'd seen people with two thumbs before, but never had the opportunity to look at them this close before. I wanted to take a picture of him flashing the thumbs up sign, which would in effect be a double thumbs up, but I could hardly ask for such a favor purely for my own amusement. I felt like a dick just for thinking about it. I think he could only use one of the thumbs. I wondered if he would have inadvertently slammed the extra thumb in the car door if he had a car. What's wrong with my mind?

He told me to come back in a couple hours. It was running when I came back with my other bike. The thing that kept the battery charged was faulty. Whatever that thing was. It cost $14. I waited with my other bike and occasionally tried to start it to show him the problem without words. He was busy working on another customer's bike. I was pretty sure it was entertaining to see a guy with two broken bikes. That's what I was sure of, but they probably didn't give a shit.

The second bike needed a new spark plug. I'm pretty sure it didn't really need one, but it was only $2.50 and more importantly, it worked. I think it was the choke that did the trick. I would have tried starting it with the choke, I just didn't know where it was! Idiot. At least I know what the black thing is now. But my problems were not over yet. I noticed something leaking. Was it water? Please say it's water. No, it was gasoline! Fuck. The gas tank was leaking. Apparently the tank had rusted out in that area. He could only offer a temporary fix by rubbing a bar of soap into the affected area. Pretty ingenious stopgap solution. One thing after another, I thought. Getting tired of this!

This is what my old gas tank looked like. A little rough.

Later, while bringing my bikes home, the neighbor girl motioned to me so I went over to chat as I usually do every few days. They have a restaurant in the front of their home. She offered me a chair so I sat down and she started talking about my nose as she usually did. She then asked me half jokingly to give her my motorbike. After all, I had two and she had no money. Good idea! This was only the third time in a week I've been asked by a Khmer woman for money or something else holding substantial value. I'm getting over it!

The first time my 'friend' called me to tell me her father needed money otherwise they'd take away his house. I didn't even ask how much they needed. It sounded expensive. I told her I couldn't help yet she called me back twice and sent a followup text. I don't think we're really friends anymore. Another friend asked me for money to take a tuk tuk and when I generously offered her five dollars she shook her head and asked for thirty. And now, here's my neighbor asking for my motorbike. Love it!

She basically said I was rich and pointed to my clothes as an example. I laughed and proceeded to tell her I bought my shorts for three dollars, my t-shirt for a dollar and my boxers for a dollar. My shoes were old and cost me $20. I could have told her about my belt, which I've owned for 15 years and the fact I don't wear jewelry or any other accessories. Or that I brush my teeth with baking soda and my deodorant is rubbing alcohol, but I choose to do that. I then pulled out my cheap, scratched up, barely audible Nokia and asked to see her phone. She opened up a drawer and there lying on a pile of small riel notes was an iPhone. Yeah, that's what I thought!

My Nokia is not this technologically advanced.

I know I'm more privileged. I know it's easier for me to make money. I know I could be more generous.  And I know there's this philosophy that if you don't ask, you don't receive. Or if you don't ask you'll never know. But it kind of ruined this sense of friendship I thought existed. Maybe I was fooling myself. In any case, I left feeling slightly annoyed, but I felt like I had sort of proven my point or at least convinced myself that she wouldn't ask me again. Just another person who will call me stingy. Yay!

So today, I decided to fix the gas tank leaking motorbike. I took it to a proper mechanic who gave me two reasonable options. Thankfully much better options than I had anticipated. Option one was to remove the tank, drain the gas, let it dry overnight and weld the hole. $18 however no guarantees the tank wasn't impaired in other locations. Option two was to switch out my tank with another Honda Win's tank he happened to have parked outside. $40. I chose the second more expensive option.

I asked him how long this swapping of the tanks might take. I was trying to decide where to go to wait it out. He said ten minutes. Ten minutes! I seriously wish I had mechanic skills. I had one problem with the new tank. It was an ugly green color. I preferred to keep my bike all black. This was apparently not a problem. The guy doing the labor wiped it down and sprayed it black out on the sidewalk. That took an extra five minutes and voila, I had a new matte black tank. It looks pretty slick and almost feels like I'm riding a new motorbike. Almost.

Quite an improvement I must say. Slick!

Anyway, this story is over. It's old news. It's a new day. I'm recharged as are my motorbikes and at the moment, I have no problems. Well, aside from the distended belly from the apple fritter I ate last night. But that too shall pass. Quite literally actually. Anyone want to buy a motorbike? I think I want a bicycle. And an iPhone.