Thai Thoughts And Anecdotes Part 44
I'VE STILL GOT IT
Place: Nana Hotel lobby; Bangkok, Thailand
Time: 8:30 pm
Some of you might remember me. My name is Dana and I used to make submissions to Stick's site 35 years ago. I'm 89 years old now but I've still got it. Yeah, baby–I've still got it. Now, if I could just remember where I put it.
Anyway, I am going bar cruising tonight. I may be stooped with shaking hands and liver spotted skin, hair growing out of my nostrils and out of my ears, bits of white crusted phlegm stuck to my lips, shambling feet and noodle arms, balls hanging half-way to the floor, and pants belted up around my chest; but I've still got it. Now, if I could just remember where I put it. Did I say that already? Anyway, I'm hot and I'm dressed to impress and I'm going out tonight.
I'm wearing fish scale print cranberry colored crocodile shoes, six pleat peg leg black silk pants, and a cranberry colored leather fish scale print open collar shirt made from shoe scraps. The crocodile leather shirt is a little hot but I have an airconditioning system of plastic freon tubes under my shirt. The freon compressor pack is in my pants.
"Hey, honey–is that a battery powered freon compressor pack in your pants, or are you just glad to see me?"
I am also wearing two toupees and three girdles but no one can tell. The first toupee covers up my scalp pustules. It's like a two bagger for my head instead of the girls head. The girdles give me that Greek god look of my youth. Hey, I'm not going into details. Someday you'll be thank-ful just to wake up in the morning.
My woven gold nugget belt matches my gold nugget watch and my ostrich ascot matches my ostrich spats. I tried on an emerald-crusted platinum and diamond ring in the room before coming down to the lobby but I rejected it. I hate people who overdress.
Oops, forgot my monogrammed, scented, vibrating, flashing-light condoms. Back up to the room. On my way back down to the lobby I pass Noi, and Gai, and Poom, and Na, and Nat, and Eat, and An, and Bee, and Pa. Friends from the past either working now for the Nana hotel or still freelancing. But there is no time for that now. I can hear the Nana Entertainment Plaza music booming across the street and my iron poor blood is up. I'm feeling young again and there is nothing new to learn across the street. The Nana Plaza is still a cesspit of trash and stairwell trannies and never finished construction projects. And the Cascade bar on the third floor has just recently been sold for the 79th time. I can't wait. If I leave the hotel lobby now I'll be across the street in about forty minutes!
That's as fast as I can go with my aluminum walker. Normally, I zip around on a battery powered cart, but the soi 4 street curbs and the escalator and the stairs of the Nana Entertainment Plaza reduce me to aluminum walker status. It's ok though because my walker was blessed by the monks at the Doi Suthep temple in Chiang Mai and the left aluminum leg has a lucky string around it. Nothing can happen. I've got an ice-milk coffee with straw hanging in a plastic bag from the front bar and a bucket of roaches, locusts, and scorpions strapped to the right aluminum leg. Gifts for lovers! I had the brushed aluminum tubing spray painted yellow with blue flames and red pinstriping. There's a rear view mirror, fringed leather side bags, and rubber grips. A tape deck, turn signals, and two-tone horn complete the accessories. At night I have an elephant-tail flashing red light strapped to my ass. There's always time for safety. Sometimes tourists try to feed me bananas!
I've had a little medical work done: liposuction pretty much from my sternum to my scrotum, facelift, bagectomy (eyes), hair plugs and weave (I wear a toupee because of the bleeding scalp pustules), varicose and spider veins removed (I tell the girls the scars are war wounds), facial and back dermabrasian, total body shave, skin dye (I look a little orange but fit), liver spot make-up, testicular sac tuck-up (now they only hang half-way to my knees), foreskin tatoo (conversation starter), flesh-colored autoclave painted knee braces (you hardly notice them), arthritic knuckle bone shaving, knee and elbow excess flesh excision, and tooth caps. Thai women love farangs with perfect teeth. I look great. I'm 89. Some of the girls guess my age at 69. Others probably think I am younger. No rhinoplasty. Thai bargirls love big noses.
"You velly hansum man–I wuf you!"
I still got it.
Oh, there's a girl smiling and waving at me at the corner bar across the street. All I need is forty minutes to get to her. Then it will be just like the old days–when I was 69 and full of piss and vinegar. Wish me Luck.
I am not convinced yet that email relationships are a good use of your time. It is probably no one's fault, but it seems hard sometimes to make a good connection and to accurately use your instincts about other people. I had been participating in a Thai chatroom and I meet a woman who is about my age and who lives in California and who has been to Thailand. She seems intelligent and likeable. Her hobby is beads and making things with beads. So she asks me if I will look for beads of a certain kind for her the next time I go to Chiang Mai. If I find them she will mail me a check. She is looking for center drilled, hand-made, Burmese jade beads that are light in color and no bigger than the eraser on the end of a pencil (preferably smaller). There are other details. She emails a photo to me. And I go to a bead shop here in Boston to get further educated in beads. Well, I go to Chiang Mai with the photos and the description and the specs. I am project oriented so this will be fun. I will learn something about beads; and I will have an excuse to take up the time of young, curvy, fertile, attractive Thai retail store clerks. In Chiang Mai I beat my brains out looking for these small, light-colored, hand-made, center-cut Burmese beads. I do everything but rent earthmoving equipment so that I can tip over rocks. I go in every shop. I talk to every shop owner and clerk. I enlist the help of others. I show the pictures. NO BEADS. Ten minutes after the wheels of my plane left the runway in Chiang Mai, a million light-colored Burmese jade beads might have popped out of the ground. But when I was looking there were none. NONE. When I got back to the States I emailed my Thai chatroom friend in California to tell her that I looked and looked but there just weren't any beads.
She told me I did not look hard enough!
NOTHING HAS CHANGED. . . .
"We must remember that the ways of Orientals are not our ways, nor their thoughts our thoughts. Often, when we think them backward and stupid, they think us meddlesome and absurd. The loom of time moves slowly with them, and they care not for high pressure and the roaring of the wheels. Our system may be good for us; but it is neither equally, nor altogether good for them. Satan found it better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven; and the normal Asiatic would sooner be misgoverned by Asiatics than well governed by Europeans."
Spoken in 1899 by British Viscount George Nathaniel Curzon
Nothing has changed in 100 years!
Dana at 89 and still visiting Nana – a bargirl's dream or a bargirl's nightmare?