Spending only four days, I went to Khao San Road (the backpackers' haven, they call it), ziplined through the forests/jungles, ate savory and sweet street foods in plastic bags that will probably give me cancer, petted a baby tiger, baby crocodile, and ginormous elephant, walked through a line of loitering prostitutes, was assisted by ladyboy-waitresses/ers, took off my shoes (again. Note Seoul) in order to step into an establishment, raided a 7-11 for midnight snacks, played calculator-bargaining war with street sellers, unknowingly taken to a tailor shop by a tuk tuk driver, and finally, was repeatedly offered a ping pong show (Wikipedia has a more than necessary description). Bangkok: check. Exhaustion: check.
Like Jimmy Fallon's late-night talk show, where he introduces a new segment almost every night to win back those lost viewers from the transition of Conan to Fallon, I bring you my newest segment: Coupon Clippings!!!!
Coupon Clippings: Bangkok, Thailand
1.5L Bottle of Water: .20 USD
Metro Train Ride: .60-.90 USD
Fun-Size Bag of Lay's Chips: .30 USD
Pad Thai with Chicken: 1 USD
Iced Milk Tea: .30 USD
Tourist T Shirts: 3 USD
Postcard: .12 USD
Other than doing the usual tourist bit, I tried my best to have one of those days, wandering around a new city, avoiding all tourist traps, and out of the blue, stumbling upon a local shop or bar, but instead around every corner was a Dunkin' Donuts, Starbucks, Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf, or possibly The Body Shop. Ahh, the American mall never escapes me. One night, however, walking around the streets of Hongdae for a street-food dinner, we heard the echos of American classics overpowering the equally loud chatter of conversation. Learning from my time in Peru that bars on the second floor with shaky, termite-infested staircases are typically the best places to grab a drink, to observe the bustling street of tipsy locals, and to calculate how much money you've spent that day, we found Bar [insert Korean character I can't read], which looked like a mini-bar of pirate ship, with sea-themed objects hanging off the ceiling, polaroids of unconscious regulars tiled along the wall, and dishes of dried fish as your chit-chat snacker. 
Taking the subway to and from locations, I did stumble upon some idiosyncrasies of the average Seoulite. There is, to a San Franciscan, an unbearable quiet on a subway car, due to the fact that most of the riders are on their music players or watching TV off of Ipod-like devices with an oddly-angled antennas. Or, when parting the Red Sea of a crowd, Seoulites do not feel the need for vocally alert you of their oncoming collision of elbows, shoulders, or just dangling limbs. Instead, they just move ahead with shoulders and elbows ready to take on its victims