Sweetness And Light
Nin had that sweetness that melts me. I spent time with her whenever I visited Bangkok but between my first meeting (in Our Place bar) and the last, there had developed a considerable change in her. I couldn’t understand where her irritation was coming from although she once snarled at me in the street “you go wit lady??” as I went with two Australian guys for a drink away from Soi Cowboy. My last time with her involved her stabbing her finger at me saying that back then (2 years ago), “I was in-oh-sent” “IN-OH-SENT” She spat out the syllables like she had been rehearsing this unusual word for some time. She also decided to lunge at me with a knife (in my room). I wrangled the knife off her and ended up dragging her by her hair on her back down the stairs with her feet kicking and going badump badump on each step. The hotel staff assisted in getting her out on the street and then quietly advised that it may be a good idea to leave. Now. “Some lady….very dangerous… maybe she come back” At the time of her “innocence” she was gyrating up a silver pole in a go-go bar forcryssakes!!!
Switch to a couple of years later and Nin is no longer around.
Then I saw Nam in the Tilac Bar. She had that gauche, modest demeanour that seems to ring all the bells for me. She was dancing, with her head down, concentrating on the steps. I eventually asked the mamasan to call her over. But the mamsan had to bring her over. She stood in front of me, 21 years, head down, eyes going from side to side, but with the most gorgeous smile you ever did see. (ok you probably have seen).
So I spent the next few days with my new ‘girlfriend’. Met her sistah (best friend) and had beers with them in their hut. Shopped, went to cinema, toured around and had a generally fine time. Even to the point of them laughing at some of the routines that, as bargirls, they were usually inclined to go through. Saying how sad she was at me leaving (I go to airport with you) and then creasing with laughter at the whole charade.
Were they acknowledging that I, too, could share in the joke? Anyway, during our time together, there did seem to be genuine affection.
So I go home. A few months later I’m with her again and another fine time was had. This was repeated again a few months later when I have another holiday in Thailand and coincidentally meet her sistah in the street (Soi Cowboy). Lek! Great to see you. How’s Nam? I could see immediately that she was a little defensive over something but let it pass and told her to ask Nam to come to my hotel at 7 the next evening.
There was a knock on my door at 7 the next morning! The time seems sometimes a confusing issue in Thailand. Nevertheless I was overjoyed at seeing her again and she was certainly delighted to see me. However, something was bothering her and she finally blurted out, wailing and gasping, that she was married. I marry! Aaaooohhh! I marry!!
Although stunned I was in no way as distraught as she apparently was. I did my best to at least feign disappointment. Hell, I WAS disappointed.
Turns out she married a middle-aged expat Englishman because he asked her to. So here I am in the company of a woman who is apparently besotted with me, explaining that her husband is ‘no good’. I guess this would help weaken any empathy I had for a cuckolded husband.
So Nam wanted to make sure I wasn’t disappointed in the situation and my god, she certainly knew how to relieve my disappointment.
On this visit she had blossomed into a little sophisticate, like a Thai Audrey Hepburn. When she sat side-saddle on the motosai-taxi in front of me, wearing her shades, that beautiful style to her hair, her elegant clothes, smiling back at me she looked like she should be on a film-set.
But my time in the light was soon to be over and darkness was coming. I’m in my hotel room and at 3 in the morning there is a knock. I walk over and open the door. There is Nam, but not as I would normally expect. Her eyes are full of tears and her clothes crumpled. She stands with her arms held a little away from her body. The blood from her just-slashed wrists is already on the carpet. “I love YOOOOU!” she cries. Uh-oh.
Tears wiped, hugs, towel over wrist, tuk-tuk to nearest clinic (her directions), paid clinic fee, tuk-tuk back to sistah’s hut. On the way she says (pointing to her bandages) “teach Richad…he no good…love YOU” and she laughed! Returned to hotel alone. Fuck me. Fuck ME!
Visited sistah next day and Nam is there with a raft of other women and their babies (one baby is placed on my lap). Much chattering, cooing, laughing. Nam hangs on to me as if I might vanish between the floorboards. Eventually Lek (sistah) beckons me outside. It is not too surprising. She says that Nam is like a young simple girl and is confused. Before she says anything else I volunteer to leave now and stop all communication. Lek smiles and I know that this is what she had hoped, so I just turned around and left, moved to a different hotel.
Whatever is true and whatever is false in the experiences you have with a girl, I was not prepared for this. At the back of my mind I always had the view that despite liking them, having fun and simply enjoying their company, they are, after all, bargirls, and most likely immune to some of the more finer feelings?
Assholes never really get the opportunity to gather enough insight that they are actually being assholes, but boy did I feel like one here. It did not cross my mind that being affectionate or attentive would actually have an emotional effect. Or am I kidding myself?
Whatever…. I’m looking forward to next month being pulled into the maelstrom once more.
The things some people do on their holidays…