The Unexpected Zen of Marketing: Lessons from a Bangkok Tuk-Tuk

Written by Michael Johnson

Bangkok, Thailand is a city of endless surprises. You visit for the wonderful people and culture, the astounding temples, and of course the food, but you come home with stories you didn’t expect to collect. On my latest trip, I had one of those days where everything seemed too good to be true and too ridiculous to make up. 

One afternoon, after visiting the Grand Palace and the Emerald Buddha, my colleague and I were touring a quiet monastery nearby. After strolling the grounds, I made a donation that caught the eye of the security guard. We were enjoying the serenity when the guard approached us, radiating helpfulness. “You’ve been to Thailand before?” he asked. 

“Yes,” we said. “And we just dropped by on our way to the Reclining Buddha.” 

“Very nice,” he nodded approvingly. “Have you also seen the Lucky Buddha? The Standing Buddha? Very special, not many tourists know these. There’s also a great shop on the route—Thai Fashion—where they make the best clothes. You should visit.” 

We had done a fair amount of shopping earlier and we’d had our fill of it, but we asked him how to find these other temples. Out of his jacket he produced a map and a marker, which he used to carefully highlight four locations: the Lucky Buddha, the Standing Buddha, Thai Fashion, and the Reclining Buddha. “This is the best route,” he said. “But not walkable. A tuk-tuk (kind of like a three-wheeled gas-powered golf cart if golf carts were allowed to drive in heavy traffic on the nuttiest roadways on earth) is the best way—about sixty baht. And the driver will stay with you the whole time.” 

Sixty baht… that’s less than two bucks USD for a guided city tour. Really? The deal was too good to pass up. We asked the guard to find us a tuk-tuk and he flagged down a driver, showed him the map, and even negotiated the sixty-baht fare for us. The guard was great!  I pulled out some money to tip him for his help, but he waved it off, pointing to his uniform. “I’m a security guard.” Apparently, that meant no tipping. 

Charmed by his kindness and sincerity, we climbed into the tuk-tuk, ready for a day of cultural exploration. 

Lucky Buddha and the Curious Coincidence 

Our first stop was the Lucky Buddha, a small but charming temple. As we wandered around, a man—whose role there was ambiguous...clearly not a monk but not a tourist either—approached us with a warm smile and struck up a conversation. He told us about the Buddha’s significance in the Thai culture and asked about our trip. He was easy to talk to, well-spoken, and his friendliness was infectious. 

Then, as if letting us in on a well-kept secret, the kind stranger said, “You’re very lucky to be here today! It’s National Buddha Day. One of our best days. Tonight, all the temples will have Thai dancing and celebrations. You should visit any temple after six! Today, everyone is a Buddhist.” 

National Buddha Day? Parties? That sounded amazing. Earlier, at the monastery, we had noticed rows of chairs waiting to be set up for something big, so that kind of scanned. But the guy wasn’t done: “In honor of the day, many shops are donating some of their proceeds to orphanages. If you want to do some shopping, you should visit Thai Fashion. They make famous clothing. Today they will give 30% to the orphanages.” 

Thai Fashion. Wild—this was the second time we’d heard about Thai Fashion in less than an hour. My friend and I exchanged glances, starting to feel like we’d stepped into some new kind of cosmic consciousness. 

The Reluctant Detour 

Of course, the repeated mentions of Thai Fashion were intriguing (and frankly more bizarre than intriguing at this point), but we were tired from the morning’s adventures and prior shopping and were not going to do any more of it. So, as we left the Lucky Buddha, we told our tuk-tuk driver we’d like to skip Thai Fashion. 

We assumed he’d be somewhat relieved—one less stop-and-wait for him, right? Instead, his reaction was immediate and passionate. “No, no! You should visit Thai Fashion. Must-see!” he insisted in English, far less polished than the kind stranger's, but his enthusiasm so genuine it felt personal. 

What was going on with Thai Fashion? Was this place really that great, or were we about to walk into a trap? Too tired to argue and a bit too curious to say no at this point, we agreed that stop would be next; apparently, we were going to visit Thai Fashion after all. 

Full disclosure: Naturally, we were quite suspicious by now, but we also knew that we were not the kind of people who fall for scams.  

Thai Fashion: Fabric Rolls and Red Flags  

While we were congratulating ourselves on our Thai street savvy, the tuk-tuk pulled into a sketchy alley strip mall that looked a lot like the kind of place where overconfident tourists went to be fleeced. Oops. 

The storefront was small and unassuming but bustling with activity. Parked out front were several other tuk-tuks filled with tourists, all wearing the same bewildered “Uh…what am I doing here?” expression. Misery loves company. 

Thai Fashion now looked to be exactly what we’d hoped it was not. And here is some more crazy: imagine knowing you’ve just walked into a trap that you thought you were far too clever to fall for, and then somehow deciding that you are not yet trapped deeply enough. So, we went inside, ready to be separated from some baht. 

We were not disappointed. A sharp-dressed salesman, whose thick cologne was clearly a homing beacon to guide distant tourist tuk-tuks to the shop, greeted us instantly. And by greeted us, I mean pounced. “Sawatdii! Custom suit for you today? We have the best quality at the lowest prices.” He produced a measuring tape from thin air, ready to size me up before I had even had a chance to speak. 

Custom suits! So that was the game. Indeed, the shop was packed with rolls of fabric and persistent salespeople, all vying for the attention of the overwhelmed and sadly overmatched tourists. Few would make it out that day without a fitting, and none without a purchase. 

I was not interested in a custom suit (I wanted out, and I wanted out now) and asked what they had off-the-rack so I could swiftly pay my idiot tax and leave. Our heavily fragrant tailor/associate showed us to a back room filled with shirts and pants of general street souvenir quality - but available today at luxury prices. Pretty steep idiot tax. As I was pondering my next move, a bewildered European couple was escorted into the room, and their presence temporarily distracted the salesman. Sensing immediate daylight, I nodded to my companion and sprang for the door. But then, inexplicably, my colleague paused to ask about some ties! Seriously Dude? 

What to do? I’m not proud of this (although I laugh about it now), but without hesitation, I decided to save myself and leapt from Thai Fashion to the relative safety of the tuk-tuk.  

I saved a few bucks, but I could not save my friend. After what seemed like some tense hours later, he emerged with a $30 tie (dollars, not baht) and some cufflinks. Sucker. Fell for the scam… 

Standing and Reclining Buddhas: Back to the Plan 

We were not thrilled about being orchestrated into visiting Thai Fashion, but we could not deny that the tuk-tuk driver had held up his end of the deal. He cheerfully took us to the Standing Buddha, waited for us, and then dropped us off at the Reclining Buddha as promised. Both sites were stunning, and the experiences almost made us forget the odd detour. 

We tipped the driver much more than the negotiated sixty-baht fare – the whole thing did take him about an hour and a half, after all. He waved goodbye, grinning. 

A Rainy Epiphany 

Thirty minutes later, as we meandered about Wat Pho (the temple complex with the Reclining Buddha), a sudden downpour trapped us in a doorway. With no umbrella (as this was my second trip to Thailand, I was a seasoned pro and of course I packed an umbrella - one purchased specifically for this trip, but I left it in the hotel room where hopefully it kept something dry) we waited out the storm. The rain gave us time to ponder and deconstruct the day’s events. 

How had the two of us – me, a hardened cynic and he, a dang PhD - fallen for such an obvious ploy – one we had even seen coming? Clearly, the security guard, the kind stranger at the temple, and the tuk-tuk driver were all part of a grand plan to funnel tourists to Thai Fashion. What was that arrangement? It was so seamless and organic. Did the three of them even know each other? Or was this a communal, unspoken system where each person played their role perfectly? 

Honestly, it was brilliant. Like the ending of a movie where there is a shocking twist and, though stunned and confused, you just have to applaud the plot. Kudos boys. Well played. 

As we unpacked all of it further and got past some of our embarrassment, we concluded that Thai Fashion was really more of a hustle than a scam. We were not actually cheated. No one forced us to buy anything, and my colleague willingly chose his purchase. Plus, we got an incredible city tour for less than two dollars. 

Still in the rainy doorway ruminating on the day’s twists and turns, my colleague unwrapped his tie and inspected it. It was actually quite nice, a good match for the cufflinks, and it even came with a pocket square. “For $30,” he said, “this isn’t bad.” No, it wasn’t. He added, “The guy said the suits were 6000 baht.” Huh. That’s about $175. Pretty good for a hand-made suit. 

I suggested we go back to Thai Fashion and have another look. 

The Final Laugh 

That evening, we shared our adventure with the hotel staff and asked if they had ever heard of tourists being tricked into Thai Fashion. Their polite smiles and suppressed laughter told us everything we needed to know.  

And this: “National Buddha Day?” one said, trying not to giggle. “No, not today.” 

Epilogue I: Stop Me If You’ve Heard This One Before 

A simple internet search will reveal hundreds upon hundreds of disgruntled tourists railing about the Thai Fashion Scam. The same exact thing, mostly, happened to all of them. Look it up. 

My colleague and I are not alone in falling for this, but we look at our experience as a unique and rewarding adventure with an amazing story. I think the others, tourists who see themselves as the victims in their story, are missing something. We were treated to a Thai tour, a Thai tie, and a Thai tale about a tuk-tuk and a tailor.  

I recommend everyone fall for this when in Bangkok. 

Epilogue II: The Hustle as Art 

We were clearly manipulated a bit, and we loved it. Far from feeling cheated, we found ourselves admiring the sheer ingenuity of it all. This wasn’t just a hustle—it was selling as performance art. Every step of the journey felt carefully choreographed, like a live action play with Bangkok as its stage and us as unwitting yet willing participants. 

Think about it: every interaction, from the charming security guard to the passionate tuk-tuk driver, was part of a carefully tuned symphony of persuasion. The seamless transitions, well-timed recommendations, and coordinated storytelling were a masterclass in emotional engagement and FOMO selling. They didn’t just sell us a product; they sold us an experience. 

And really, isn’t that the ultimate goal of great marketing? To create engaging and memorable moments that stay with you long after the transaction is complete? This wasn’t about a tie or a tuk-tuk ride. It was about a story we’d retell, laugh about, and carry with us for years. 

If every marketer went through an experience like this, they’d understand the true power of storytelling, trust-building, and value creation. It’s one thing to sell a product; it’s another to make people feel like they’ve discovered something extraordinary—even if it was all by design. In the end, we didn’t just buy a tie; we bought into a narrative, a memory, and an understanding that great marketing may not always be wholly transparent, but it’s always captivating. 

Would I do it again? Without a doubt. It’s pretty compelling marketing that can leave you smiling when you’ve been had. 

Note: We never want to lie to customers, and I am by no means advocating anything but openness and transparency. That said, there are some clear engagement marketing lessons here.

Marketing Lessons from the Tuk-Tuk Hustle 

1. Storytelling Is Key: The entire experience was built on the foundation of a story—a convincing one at that. National Buddha Day? A day where “everyone is a Buddhist” and temples transform into hubs of celebration? That narrative had everything: cultural immersion, urgency, and exclusivity. And the icing on the cake? Orphanage donations tied to your shopping. Whether or not it was true (spoiler: it wasn’t), the story made us feel like participants in something unique and meaningful. Great marketing isn’t just about products; it’s about weaving stories that make people want to be part of the action. 
2. The Power of Social Proof: When we saw other tourists at Thai Fashion, their mere presence acted as an unspoken endorsement. It didn’t matter that they looked just as bewildered and concerned as we were—the sight of others in the same situation made us think, If they’re here, maybe this isn’t so bad. Social proof is a subtle yet powerful marketing tool, whether in a physical shop or online reviews. Seeing others engaging with a product or experience creates a sense of legitimacy—even if everyone involved is equally unsure of what’s happening. 
3. Value Exchange Works: We may have been hustled, but we didn’t walk away empty-handed. For just sixty baht, we got a tuk-tuk tour to several incredible temples, an amusing cultural experience, and a surprisingly decent tie for $30. Nobody forced us to buy anything, and the price wasn’t outrageous. A good hustle, like good marketing, ensures the customer feels like they’ve received something valuable—even if it wasn’t what they originally intended to buy. 
4. Trust Is Built Gradually: OK, so there was little truth in any of this, but each player in the hustle added a layer of credibility. With his sharp uniform and polite refusal of a tip, the security guard made us trust his intentions. With his warm smile and Buddha trivia, the stranger at the temple reinforced the idea that this was a special day. And the tuk-tuk driver, enthusiastic and friendly, completed the picture. None of them pushed too hard individually, but together, their efforts created a seamless trust-building machine. In marketing, trust isn’t gained all at once—it’s earned through consistent, believable interactions. 
5. Curiosity Is a Powerful Motivator: Even as alarm bells started ringing, our curiosity kept us moving forward. What exactly is Thai Fashion? Why is everyone so insistent we go there? Humans are naturally drawn to the unknown, and this hustle played on that beautifully. In marketing, piquing curiosity can be a powerful hook—a mysterious ad campaign, an exclusive offer, or simply the allure of “seeing for yourself.” 
6. Teamwork Makes the Hustle Work: What impressed us most was the coordination. Whether these players knew each other personally or were simply part of a shared system, their ability to work together was remarkable. Each person had a specific role, and they performed it flawlessly to guide us along the journey. Effective marketing often requires the same kind of collaboration: from product designers to sales teams to customer service, everyone must work in harmony to create a seamless customer experience. 
7. Sometimes, the Experience Is the Product: Looking back, the highlight wasn’t the tie or even the tour—it was the story we came away with. The hustle itself became the product, giving us a unique experience we could laugh about and dissect for hours. In the end, we weren’t mad; we were actually quite pleased that we stumbled into this. Great marketing creates moments that resonate long after the transaction is complete. Sometimes, the product is secondary to the story it generates.

After all, I’m still telling everyone about the tuk-tuk tour… 

Read more about BSM Partners' big Thailand adventure from Chuck Zumbaugh , who recently shared his own key takeaways from the trip and Pet Fair South East Asia.

About the author 

Michael Johnson is the consumer insights and trends thought leader in the Pet Specialty industry, regularly consulting retailers, veterinarians, distributors, and manufacturers on the dynamics of the pet industry and how to best develop and position their products, brands, programs, and services to connect with consumers. Michael brings over twenty years of experience in marketing, strategic planning, and consumer and market research from across the Food, Drug, Mass, Wholesale, and Pet channels. He frequently lectures on pet trends and has been featured at events on behalf of organizations such as PIDA, PILS/PIJAC, SUPERZOO, Pet Food Workshop, APPA, Pet Industry Executive Summit, as well as many retailer, veterinary, and pet distributor conferences.