If Philip Marlowe drove a tuk-tuk in a cyberpunk Bangkok, his case files would begin exactly like this: “TukTukPatrol. 21 05 10. Rainy. The human jungle. Gy… – my radio died just as she spoke the name.”
But here is the secret of the TukTuk: We are the monkeys of this jungle. When the Mercedes SUVs are stuck in the mud, we slip through the cracks. We mount the sidewalk (apologies to the noodle seller). We take the wrong way down a one-way street (apologies to the traffic god). We find the vine no one else sees. TukTukPatrol 21 05 10 Rainy The Human Jungle Gy...