On the way back up Soi 23 I worked out what her problem was. Only a few blocks away was the infamous Soi Cowboy. Reflecting on my appearance, she probably had enough experience of sweaty fat backpacked farangs drunkenly moseying down her turf looking for girly bars. Hmm. This gave me an idea. I was in need of a cold beer and had never been to Cowboy sober, if indeed I’d been there at all the other night. Why not be hung for a sheep rather than a travel agent. Plucking up courage I ventured down the side street and pushed back the curtains of a bar at random, noting in passing the letters “SKOOLGIRL” on the wall. At this time of the evening, it was clear that I was the only customer, and certainly the only male there. They let me buy a beer, at least, before springing the trap. I was introduced to another small thing (remember: head barely reaching chest) with a smile like the sun finally appearing above the Alaskan mountains and big soulful eyes you could drown in. I won’t described how she was dressed: male readers’ imaginations will have already kicked into overdrive and females readers will have switched off in disgust anyway. There followed a lengthy discussion that involved a proposition, a hotel’s name, an amount of money, and a description of her sick children: most of which I could not understand (remember: they speak in vowels very loudly!!!). Bloody hell! I was only an inch into my bottle of beer and there I was in a fight or flight situation. I manfully prevaricated for the rest of my beer until it was clear that I was in a GO:NO GO situation, as the military say.Tuesday, January 12
Bangkok on a Sunday afternoon (Part II)
I didn’t quite make it home at that point. I still had jobs to do: get Linda some Immodium, find a specific travel agent, replenish the family’s beer stock (somebody had been drinking it!). First thing first. Find this damned travel agent. Our favourite Tranny Travel (so called because all the employees seem to be at various phases of gender transition) at the top of Soi 39 had gone bust (*koff*) while we were away. The Embassy recommended Reunion Travel on Soi 23 but although I’d walked the entire length the other day and braved the invites to attend around a thousand massage parlours, I couldn’t find it. Lois, at the Embassy, said it was next to the Snow White Dry Cleaning shop but in an avenue off the Soi itself. So, hot and very sweaty, in my cut off T-shirt, backpack and limp, I got off the Skytrain at Asok and made my way back down 23. Found the sign for the dry cleaning shop, but just as I made my way down the alleyway I was accosted by a screaming women who must have all of 80 years. “You get out! This my home!” Sigh! Howcum I get all the best offers from women? I sidestepped her, and the equally geriatric husband who had appeared to give chase, and carried on until I found the travel agent. Shut on a Sunday night, of course. I had been pursued. “You go away! This my home!” I pointed to the travel agent, “This is not your home, you barking mad woman! This travel agent!” “Yes”, she reluctantly admitted, “but it shut now. You go away now?” “Yeah!”, I growled in my most menacing tone, “but I’ll be back”, I added inspirationally.
On the way back up Soi 23 I worked out what her problem was. Only a few blocks away was the infamous Soi Cowboy. Reflecting on my appearance, she probably had enough experience of sweaty fat backpacked farangs drunkenly moseying down her turf looking for girly bars. Hmm. This gave me an idea. I was in need of a cold beer and had never been to Cowboy sober, if indeed I’d been there at all the other night. Why not be hung for a sheep rather than a travel agent. Plucking up courage I ventured down the side street and pushed back the curtains of a bar at random, noting in passing the letters “SKOOLGIRL” on the wall. At this time of the evening, it was clear that I was the only customer, and certainly the only male there. They let me buy a beer, at least, before springing the trap. I was introduced to another small thing (remember: head barely reaching chest) with a smile like the sun finally appearing above the Alaskan mountains and big soulful eyes you could drown in. I won’t described how she was dressed: male readers’ imaginations will have already kicked into overdrive and females readers will have switched off in disgust anyway. There followed a lengthy discussion that involved a proposition, a hotel’s name, an amount of money, and a description of her sick children: most of which I could not understand (remember: they speak in vowels very loudly!!!). Bloody hell! I was only an inch into my bottle of beer and there I was in a fight or flight situation. I manfully prevaricated for the rest of my beer until it was clear that I was in a GO:NO GO situation, as the military say.
I went. Lived to fight another day. Ran away. Discrete rather than valorous. Eek eek -- pass the cheese. Sober and shaken. I am sure you can add your own comments (no prize for the most inventive). I made my way to the familiar grounds of the Robin Hood, sank a few pints, picked up the Immodium and the beer for the family fridge, and limped home. Where I was promptly bollocked for coming home late and drunk! I didn’t think it was a great idea to describe all my adventures at the time so I went to bed in double disgrace.
On the way back up Soi 23 I worked out what her problem was. Only a few blocks away was the infamous Soi Cowboy. Reflecting on my appearance, she probably had enough experience of sweaty fat backpacked farangs drunkenly moseying down her turf looking for girly bars. Hmm. This gave me an idea. I was in need of a cold beer and had never been to Cowboy sober, if indeed I’d been there at all the other night. Why not be hung for a sheep rather than a travel agent. Plucking up courage I ventured down the side street and pushed back the curtains of a bar at random, noting in passing the letters “SKOOLGIRL” on the wall. At this time of the evening, it was clear that I was the only customer, and certainly the only male there. They let me buy a beer, at least, before springing the trap. I was introduced to another small thing (remember: head barely reaching chest) with a smile like the sun finally appearing above the Alaskan mountains and big soulful eyes you could drown in. I won’t described how she was dressed: male readers’ imaginations will have already kicked into overdrive and females readers will have switched off in disgust anyway. There followed a lengthy discussion that involved a proposition, a hotel’s name, an amount of money, and a description of her sick children: most of which I could not understand (remember: they speak in vowels very loudly!!!). Bloody hell! I was only an inch into my bottle of beer and there I was in a fight or flight situation. I manfully prevaricated for the rest of my beer until it was clear that I was in a GO:NO GO situation, as the military say.
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3 comments:
Great description of the unwashed Thailand !! I have to raise concern though that two experienced travellin farangs as yourselves forgot to pack the immodium !! poor ole Linda could have wasted away !! Hope yer feeling better Lin.
Dave you are going to have change your chat up lines, I feel as though you may be in some danger, not of mortal or even moral turpitude, but the likelyhood of a meat cleaver betwen the ears.
PS Its still ruddy artic here, and its cost me a fortune in taxi fare, trying to get around, just beginning to thaw now for the next blast !
Oh David,
What can I say? We need a few comments from Lady Linda, assuming the immodium has done it's thing!
Spoke to Countess Denise of Bartley yesterday. Count Frank and her ladyship are without PC - but maybe conjuring up a small stanza or two - have offered this Dell if need be or they may find an internet cafe in Cadnam!!!!!
So, if you do find a travel agent, where are you going? Looking forward to next steps.
PPS Steve is right it's a tad chilly here - still - reached +1C today!!!! HURRAH
Hope Auntie Linda has fully recovered by now and has curtailed your wanderings.
Poor old chap like you could end up in no end of trouble without a wing man,fancy going to places like that, wouldn't find the likes of me and Mr T in there.
Pictures look interesting mind, shame we can't get smello-vision.
Will drop round and see the Lord & Lady of the Manor to offer our humble services,on my way to the Pub,on foot.
Weather appears to be warming up,so may be only one jumper on your return.
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