BARTERING IN MALAYSIA
Finally managed to corner the guy I believe to be the owner and did some bargaining for the room. If I were to pay everything up front for an entire month, I save $2 per day. Two dollars!
While that is a savings of 11%, I'm thinking I'd rather leave than stay that long here with the crazy lady.
But wait - we have a government website that we can put in a complaint on. If we get enough complaints then...well, probably nothing will happen. And no, I won't agree to give you your money back should she return.
For fun (ie I knew it would be fucked up and I'd have a story to write about) we tried the government website. Unless you fill out every field correctly you get an error. And some of them are so obscure the locals had to establish a 'brain trust' to figure out what they meant.
Malaysian government website - works just like this.
After all of those hurdles, when you get to the end you get a lovely message saying the government's shit is broken and will be repaired (not) soon.
Talking with locals I've found out they really haven't gotten to the point where they have real estate agents or anything who (for a small fee) will help put people into rental homes here. Not quite to that point yet. What they have is a newspaper in English called 'Star'.
I'll check it out but it is becoming apparent to me that soon it will be time to buy my plane ticket and GTFO. I'd stay longer - even without the pretty much useless discount on the room - but getting screamed at repeatedly while trying to sleep is wearing thin pretty quick. That may account for some of the divorce rate.
I think I am one of the people who would actually put this to good use - and no more room rental cost!
CONTINUING THE CRAZY
This morning - early - she was particularly loud. She had discovered that some of the voices in her head needed to be screeched at for a half hour.
For me, I'd pretty much decided to just suck it up. I've got some of the locals met at the Speakeasy looking into places to stay because the newspapers are completely useless. Figured I might not be staying all that long at my current abode in the Star Lodge.
And they told me a room four down had opened up.
It's amazing how many trips it takes you to move all your shit when it is unpacked.
Feels like that.
Now set up in a new room it seems much quieter. I can't hear her scratching around. What was she doing? I have no idea but it sounded like endlessly rubbing plastic bags on concrete. [Edit: Correction, I can still hear her scratching around.]
Hopefully it won't sound as though she is in the same room when she decides to start screaming tomorrow.
No idea if any of the people I spoke with are going to come back with useful housing but I've told them that it has to have everything included, wifi, electricity and so on. One old man objected to this and said 'But you don't know what it will cost!'
If I had a place and needed 600 MYR to make the rent, electricity was normally 100 MYR during the expensive months and I charged 1000 MYR for it, I'm guessing I could cover even high electricity use. It is not that fucking hard to figure out.
With our team of accountants, scientists and statisticians, we can figure this out!
The place has to be at least as nice as where I'm staying and cheaper. Otherwise, there is no reason at all to move. To give up the massive flexibility of 'Bored, lets fucking move' it has to be special.
Looking at places will provide some possible entertainment however.
Note on the crazy lady - I'm not planning on going and photographing her or filming her. I get that this is a rough period in her pretty sure to be fairly short life. Going with 'basic human dignity' here. However, I am allowed to bitch. If she wants to bitch about fat tourists waddling around and judging her solely based on the amount of screaming she does, she can make her own blog. Maybe call it "Screaming in Peace". Also, I turned down the offer of a Malaysian gentleman who offered to get me firecrackers I could throw at her to attempt to drive her off. Is this a normal method of dealing with the homeless? I am unsure.
Can you believe the kind of shit you see in this blog? That's what you get for reading 'edgy' travel blogs!
LOGAN AND HIS IRRATIONAL HATRED OF MUSIC
At the Speakeasy, everyone is sitting around and having great conversations. Suddenly, the guy pictured below starts blaring some music and puts on a badly performed show involving several different props. He's trying to whirl them around, hitting his arms as he does so. Fine, get a picture. If he'd stopped the music after he had tired preforming his mating dance, I'd be good with that - but no, he wants to continue playing his shitty music.
The most elaborate courtship ritual ever. Guessing just for short term mating as people who aren't broken usually don't stick with selfish children.
I mention it and he gets upset. "I came here for conversation and there is already music going on someone else is playing."
"I don't like it" he says. Well, too fucking bad you entitled fuck, I don't like your music either.
Goes back to my essay written in an earlier blog (do not ask me which) about why I now prefer the sounds of cats fucking to music.
Hooker - streetwalker, 150 MYR
Hooker - brothel, 200 MYR (kind of seems like you might want to spend the extra on this).
[Disclaimer, no I haven't been making the rounds on hookers. They were all mysteriously killed. But finding out the price is still interesting!]