Stickman Readers' Submissions August 2nd, 2004

Thai Thoughts And Anecdotes Part 55

Thai Thoughts And Anecdotes 55


I have brought my girlfriend to a remote guesthouse that I first visited on a tour ten years ago. There is a fun place to go for a day trip. I ask the hotel general manager if the place is still available. "Yes" she says. "OK"
I say, "I'd like to rent a motorcycle for my girlfriend and myself, and I would like to have a guide on a motorcycle that we can follow so that we do not get lost. He will be our insurance policy that we will have a good and fun and
stress free vacation experience." Lots of smiling and price is quoted for the bike for us and a separate charge for the guide.

He Clinic Bangkok

Next morning there is a bike for Teek and me plus the guide has arrived on his cycle. Lots of talking. The hotel general manager and my girlfriend both explain the concept. He will ride ahead and we will follow. No problem. Lots of smiling.
One lame wai. Off we go.

By the second curve in the road our motorcycle guide has already disappeared. Completely gone at about sixty miles an hour. I know that the place we are going is only about thirty minutes away. It takes myself and my girlfriend two hours
of asking directions and driving around to finally find the place. The fun is ruined. Congratulations Thailand. When we get there my guide is there. Before our cycle has even stopped my athletic girlfriend throws herself off and runs up to him
and just starts screaming at him. I believe by the time she was done reaming him that he now understood the concept of guiding.

Back at the hotel myself and my girlfriend spoke to the hotel general manager. No money exchanged hands for the guide service. We received an apology. End of story? Not bloody likely, mate! I can see you have not been to Thailand. On the
last day I gave some money to my girlfriend to go in and settle up the bill. I had been paying the bill in increments daily so I knew to the baht what was owed. When my girlfriend got back in the car the change was short. I asked her what additional
thing she could have paid for. She said there was a charge for the motorcycle guide service. I looked at her like a father to a child. She shrugged her shoulders and looked away. We drove off. Now if you go back and review this story for all of
the lessons learned and experiences experienced don't forgot the most important one. I even got screwed by the woman who tells me she loves me. They're all in on it.

CBD bangkok


I decide to go into the Rainbow bar just to look. That is really the only thing on the agenda. A woman sits next to me but I do not even turn to look. She says hello and then stuns me by relating information to me about Noi and I. Turns out
she worked in the same bar and watched Noi and I over a 2 year period and knows a lot. Has her phone number. They are best friends. At first I am reticent. The whole subject of Noi and I still hurts. Then the dam bursts and I start talking. Turns
out Noi married some Australian. Probably why she was so unresponsive the last time we were together–she had agreed to marry him and she was just taking my money. Anyway this woman and I talk for awhile. I barfine her. I take her to the Bus Stop
restaurant and we have dinner. Then back to the Nana where I undress her and we shower together. Then out of the shower I towel her off and dress her and pay her. That's all I am good for–still thinking of Noi.


I know that I look smart but really I am not as smart as I look. Because I am not the brightest light bulb in the hallway, some things are mysteries to me. Usually, after a couple of sleepless night or logging about 50 hours in the bathtub;
I get stuff figured out. But sometimes I only get things 95% figured out. The remaining 5% is mystery. To wit:

wonderland clinic

If you go to any temple in Thailand there is always an old woman on the grounds surrounded by birdcages. Little birdcages with little birds in them. The birds are unremarkable in appearance. They look like the ubiquitous sparrow type birds
that are everywhere. It would be more interesting if they were colorful and exotic. Macaws or Parrots or beautiful little chirping finches or lovely budgies. But, no matter! What these birds lack in color and exotica they make up for in Good Luck.
These aviary wonders are Good Luck birds. Here is the deal. You give the woman some baht and she gives you a cage with a bird. You make a wish. You lift up the little door on the little cage and the bird flies out like he is late for a bus. Your
wish comes true! If you try to do this for yourself the lovely example of simple Thai culture wants 500 baht for one bird. Fire a flare, the stupid ass farangs are in town. If you have your girlfriend do this, you get four birds for 50 baht. Then
you and your heartthrob go over to the cliff edge or over to the top of the stairs or into the middle of the plaza. You make wishes (note: My wishes always include her–I'll bet her wishes never include me–Oh well, Thailand)–she opens the
cage door and the birds hit the road. They burst from the cage as if they just saw a winning lottery ticket fluttering in the wind. Now, if the woman shows up at the temple in the morning with 20 birds in 20 cages and manages to sell all of them–what
is she doing for inventory the next day? And the next day? And . . . ? Well, here is the beauty part. When you release the birds they just fly home. They have a rockin' crib with little bird TV's and little bird stereo systems and little
bird beers in the little refrigerators and little bird VCR's. Also, they get fed when they get home. So when the Thai woman gets home all the birds are in their cages looking at their watches. It is feeding time. This is an ingenious business.
Rotating, highly motivated inventory. I love this. It took me about two sessions on the toilet and 20 hours in the tub and some sleepless nights to figure this all out–but I got it now.

Except: How does the very first bird she buys know what to do?


Let's hear it for the 14th century which used the word ‘concupiscence' which we have replaced with ‘sexual desire'. Sexual desire sounds so pedestrian. Concupiscence sounds like something you would be stretched
on the rack for.

14th Century Doctor to Patient: You have Concupiscence! You are the Spawn of the Devil. Swallow two hot coals, burn at the stake, and call me in the morning.

Modern Doctor to Patient: You have Sexual Desire. Take a Viagra–Go to the Nana–And call me in the morning.

It ain't the same!

(South Pattaya–early morning–2nd road opposite soi 13)

Girl by the side of the road: Nothing she was wearing was fashionable–nothing she was wearing was expensive–nothing she was wearing was coordinated or chosen with calculation; there was no need–she was the Alpha Woman–nipples
bursting and poking under the thin fabric of her shirt, fluid running down her legs–sex bursting from her like deep down water through a coal seam. Effortless, without intent–eyes hooded and slow; easily bored and easily aroused.
She didn't have the athleticism and the erect carriage of the athlete–athletes have to compete. She had no peers–there was no need to compete. She burst and weeped sex and it rolled out of her in scented waves; but it was only
the warning, the hello, the introduction. The real deal for the right man would be like a tsunami wave that would roll him over and over in the surf like a toy. She knew from the past that she could make birds fall from the sky, and make farang
men weep, and make soi dogs lie down and shut up. But it was the minutai of the gifted. Too easy. What she wanted was a man who could. . . . she wanted a man who could make her forget the time and the day. A man who wouldn't listen to anything
she said and that she couldn't stop talking to. A man who never asked and never begged. A man so big and so strong that she settled into his side like a pilot fish next to a shark. A man with big hot hands who pushed her and held her and
touched her on his schedule and according to his needs. A man who never paid her a compliment but who also never pimped her out–because he loved her! She would sell herself on her own and bring him the money. Steal too if he asked. And
no matter what improbable story he told her; she would never say, "Mai Chua Go Hoak!" A man who grabbed her ankle and dragged her off the bed and into the bathroom when he wanted to play. A man who never ever asked her what she wanted
at night. She wanted a man like. . . she wanted Dana!


I guess there are things we farangs will always have a hard time understanding about Thai culture. No argument there. Heck, there are things I don't understand about my own culture here in the United States. For instance: I don't
understand why an American mother will always give her eighteen year old son away to the military to be used for cannon fodder–but will barricade herself in an upstairs bedroom with a rifle at the window before she will allow anyone to
take away her pet dog or her pet cat. Think I am exaggerating? Think about it. So the evidence is that American mothers love their pets more than their sons. Hey, I guess it is my fault for being born a mother's son. My mistake was not being
born a junkyard dog. In Thailand the farangs criticize the Thais for not being big pet lovers. Well, maybe they love their sons and their daughters more than dogs and cats. I hope so. Maybe this is an example of something that Americans could
learn from the Thais. I hope so.


In the year 1974 twenty spaceships populated by researcher science rats had been sent by the plant Zeb in the Andromeda galaxy to Earth to reconnoiter for alternative population sites. There was no intent to conquer or to harvest resources.
But interbreeding was inevitable. All Earthlings would end up with either itsy bitsy teeny weeny incredibly tiny little penises or huge, gargantuan, cavernous, airplane hanger sized vaginas. Intercourse for Earthlings would be like riding a bicycle
into a tunnel. For the rest of mankind's time on Earth the subject of sex and of sexual intercourse would never come up again. What would be the point? The preliminary twenty ships were data collectors. They just wanted to see what the local
populace was like in terms of sophistication levels and intelligence levels and class and style and social deportment and breeding and manners. Using the lights from the Festival of Lights ceremonies held in Bangkok on the Chao Praya River and
the same festival of lights held on the Khao Laem Reservoir near Sangkhla Buri and the lights near a four way intersection village on the Mae Nam Nan river; they triangulated for navigational purposes and touched down west of Sing Buri near Sam
Chuk. The first Earthling they met was a fat, chain smoking, betel nut chewing, whiskey drinking, ex-mamasan lady named Nok. Nok was dressed in a dirty bra, tattered shorts, and green rubber boots. She was squatting by the side of the road rubbing
Vaseline on a soi dog's balls.

The ships returned to the planet Zeb the next morning. Earth was saved. Thank-you Nok!

Stickman's thoughts:


nana plaza