Fucking the Dog

Back in farangland, you could always spot the hopeless salesperson in the local coffee shop. They were the fools with pensive looks on their faces and some papers spread out in front of them covered in crumbs from the half dozen doughnuts they had just finished ramming down their throats.

Every subsequent pastry shop was a respite from their anxiety at accomplishing fuck-all and the opportunity to display the accoutrements of their trade for everyone to see. To luxuriate in a small hive of activity for a few moments in the day was better than the awkward silences and blank stares they faced from the cunts they were trying to manipulate into buying whatever worthless contrivance they were peddling.

These days the presence of all manner of electronic gadgets that have replaced the briefcase crammed with papers has added an extra facet to the coffee shop dogfucker. Show off your toys, fuck around surfing the net, phone the wife of the cunt you're competing with at work and try to arrange a surreptitious fuck session...anything but what you're getting paid to do.

As this article from the NY Times points out (registration required), it takes unlimited amounts of juice to keep the various toys operational and most major chains, such as the ubiquitous Starbucks, are only too willing to oblige with the "free" usage of electrical outlets for patrons while they are slurping back $5.00 dollar cups of coffee.

Strangely enough, while the bloated desperate whore mongers who cruise the beer bars of Bangkok are rarely toting around laptops, they too are looking for the nearest receptacle to plug.