Day 24

          While walking to the bus depot to buy the $24 bus ticket to Delhi, I stopped in an electronics store. They only sold handheld DVD players. The only employee was asleep on the floor behind the counter. At 1 pm. I could've easily robbed him for all he was worth, but that was $0 so I understand why he wouldn't be too concerned.

          At a photo-setting store nearby, I saw this beautiful image

          Later, I went looking for Jim at the restaurant where he said he'd meet me. I asked the guys working, "I'm looking for my friend" and one of them said "are you sure it's not him?" and pointed to an Indian employee. We all laughed. I said "Oh so good to see you! It's been too long! What have you been doing for the last 30 years?" I don't think their English was good enough to understand me.

          Then I left to go to the only oxygen bar and asked how much. "20 rupees/min, but for whites, 50 rupees a minute." We all laughed.

          I love not having a phone. I never have to worry about anyone interrupting me and I have no way of reaching my only friend and guide, but it never matters because the towns are so small we can just run into each other whenever fate dictates it.

          I calculated my expenses and I think this entire trip cost me $1000. If I'd sublet my room and cancelled my insurance I'd have broke even this month.

          I'm getting bored and depressed though. I need more of an adventure today. I might go back to Keylong a day early just to go back to that amazing temple. I don't usually care about places, only activities, and the only ones I'm intrinsically motivated by are performing/art and meeting women. And self-improvement through psychology.

I'm getting into human connection lately, though. It's pretty OK. I do miss the internet. It's true, before the internet I just read comics and autistically played with action figures. I miss playing Magic though, that was the only thing I did with friends besides 4 square at recess.

I forget if I mentioned this already but I should build the first Aspie cafe, with a hugging machine instead of a mechanical bull, video games, bland food sorted by ingredients with all special diets considered, trance music, picture menus, extremely soft beanbag chairs, and "please talk to me" or "don't talk to me" buttons at the entrance. It'd do OK in Boston. Monty Python on mute w/subtitles on the TV, sensory toys, maybe a ball pit. Books and comics to read while there, too.

          I walked around looking for Jim some more. It's the activity I've spent the most time doing out here. Every time I pass this place I laugh:

"Finally, a place for me and my people!" J/k, that's actually not what Aryan means here.

I wandered over to the restaurant China Bowl, which is always full of Westerners. I overheard an in-depth conversation about downward-facing dog. Leh is such a yippie tourist trap. It also has hilarious signs like this one though:

          On the way here, I unintentionally followed this beautiful woman in. I know she feels the tension, too. WTF do I do in this situation? They're running out of tables, and we're both alone. I'm tempted to ask if I can join her to free up a table. I can imagine her getting scared because I haven't shaved so I look like this right now

          Ugh, the timing was wrong and I just sat there awkwardly wishing I had talked to her earlier.

My shyness always seems insurmountable, then feel like such a loser I literally want to kill myself.

Later, I ran into Jim at our guest house. 

Here is what our doorknob looks like:

 You just turn that wood block to the right and the door shuts.

I'd missed him. I told him we should go do oxygen at the bar. He said he's not interested in new ways of getting high but what he meant is he's got the lowest need for excitement out of anyone. I finally convinced him by asking how oxygen could be bad. It's OXYGEN.

Life got a little woozy from it, 2 minutes worth, but it wasn't that fun. We asked the Indian employee how much of it he does and he said he doesn't need it. I think he thought we were having trouble with the weak air, rather than just looking to get high cheaply and legally. Afterwards, the return to the weak air actually felt pretty bad, but at least we tried a new thing.

          We walked around looking for booze and found NONE. Lonely Planet mentioned a hip place that sells beer. We walked all over looking for it, then finally asked someone and they said it'd changed its name to NIRVANA. We went in and saw a beautiful, huge, rundown property that would be amazing if they took care of it. There were maybe 20 empty tables and one full of Indians. We asked the staff for beer and they said they don't sell it anymore, but if we wanted he'd send a guy to go buy some and bring it back for us. Knowing he'd charge us an Indian fortune for this, and that Jim would complain, I said no, and we left. I told Jim "If this is Nirvana, I think I want to live forever" and Jim replied "well it IS free of desire."

          We found a restaurant and I ordered a Hail to the Queen, the only one I've been able to find in Leh.
Hail to the Queen should look like this:

          The waiter returned with a bowl full of chocolate syrup, nuts, and bananas. I said "this is supposed to have ice cream in it" and he said "don't worry it's all mixed in" then walked off. I took one bite and chomped down on a piece of plastic from a food container. I ignored Jim's advice to send it back and ate the rest. Afterwards, I reiterated my complaint to the waiter, and showed him the piece of plastic I found.

          Jim started acting like my mom, telling the waiter he has a bad attitude, until I told him to stop because he's not making it any better. Luckily, the waiter's English wasn't good enough to understand. I told Jim that being a bitchy asshole would make it less likely I'd get a refund and he said "I know how it works. Here, they never offer refunds," but Jim was just being prejudiced and trying to assert dominance over the Indians, like he always does for some reason, and wasn't actually reading the situation with an open mind. Finally, the waiter asked if we wanted anything else and I said no. Then he brought the bill and didn't charge me at all. I told Jim I'd like to hear him admit he was wrong, so he did. He has his moments of irritability but is a good guy like that.

          We went looking for beer and again failed, but found a big bookstore with western classics mixed in with the Indian and tourist books. I found an Oscar Wilde quote book called "Nothing... except my genius" which is what Oscar told customs when asked what he had to declare. It's not great but was only $4 and I've been craving non-experiential learning. We went home and slept, the best part of the day, unfortunately. Maybe we'll go to a monastery outside of town tomorrow, I'm already sick of Leh's hippie tourist crap.

On the way home, this cow just wandered the middle of the street because it owns the place: