Stickman Readers' Submissions August 14th, 2004

Thai Thoughts And Anecdotes Part 57

Thai Thoughts And Anecdotes 57


Guys get together and talk about the women in their lives. Women they have had relationships with. But I never hear guys talk about the women that they didn't have relationships with. Women they still remember years later. Lost opportunities.
Past regrets. Fish they couldn't land in the boat. Here are two of my memories. Two that got away!

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MORT: I am saying goodbye to Wan in front of the AA Hotel on soi 13 in South Pattaya. We were supposed to spend three nights together but she is getting the big goodbye one day early. She turns and starts walking up to 2nd road to get a taxi
home. I turn and start walking towards Beach Road. I am a little regretful. I've just kissed off a two year relationship and a guarantee. But sometimes it is just time to move on. What's needed now is a quick trip to the Mini-Mart for
newspaper, yogurt, nuts, and candy. Breakfast! Then a quick trip up to my room for my backpack. I'm being picked up at 8:30 for an all day beach and boating trip to Ko Lan island. This will be my fourth Ko Lan island beach and boating experience.
I like the boats, I like the parasailing, I like splashing around in the water, and I like eating the Thai lunch under the big shed on the beach. I usually buy a souvenir. So my day is set. I'm vaguely wondering how long it will take me to
meet another woman.

As I hit the corner of soi 13 and Beach Road I see a woman across the road on the boardwalk. I have been apart from Wan, womanless, for approximately one minute. I hate those long droughts. The woman across the road is so startlingly beautiful
and so sexy that I just instantly break into a run, dodge the early morning traffic, jump the curb, crash through the bushes, and run right up to her. Boy, talk about a bee to the flower. She shows no sign of surprise. Apparently, this happens
all the time. Jesus. Just once I'd like to be a woman. To have this much power!

Her name is Mort and she is from Korat and she is 18. Note: What is it about Korat? Is there something special in the food and the water in that town? Sometimes I think I'd marry a Korat woman sight unseen if I just saw Nakhon Rachasima
on the birth certificate! Anyway, she is Korat brown, 18, and has that lean tight Thai physique I adore. Very wide set eyes, very high cheekbones, pouty lips, friendly and sweet. Stick a fork in me–I'm done! Standing there in the early
morning sunlight looking at her beautiful face and sexually arresting body you just had to look up and ask God what he was thinking. Why was this innocent wonderful father's daughter cruising and selling at 7:30 in the morning? Anyway, I
asked her if she would meet me at the same place at 5pm. I had the Ko Lan trip I had to go on. She was a little dubious about me keeping my end of the bargain but I swore/begged her to meet me at 5. So we had a date. Naturally, at 5; when I breathlessly
dropped off the 10 baht bus and ran to our spot she was not anywhere in sight. I waited an hour. I had thought of her all day while I was on the stupid beach and boating tour. The parasailing and the boating and the splashing in the water and
the Thai lunch on the beach seemed like instruments of torture–time wasters keeping me from Mort and our time together. It was like I was a teenager again–mooning and lamenting and filling myself with angst over a girl. Was I nuts?
I never should have gone on the trip in the first place! Hell, I had already done the thing before. I should have just grabbed Mort in the morning and marched her right over to the hotel. Who knows–it might have been the next 10 years of
my life! It might have been marriage, children, laughter, happiness, mating. All this could have been mine but Mr. Incredible Stupidhead had to go on a stupidass beach trip just because he had paid the bill, made the arrangements, and packed.
No Thai would have made this mistake. They'd have followed their heart and acted on the impulse and have been better people for it. There should be a statue of me at the airport for arriving farangs. On the statue it would say: Don't
Be As Stupid As This Man! No wonder women have contempt for men. I had the butterfly in my hand and I opened my fingers and let it fly away. Stupid. God I was stupid. Stupidhead. Idiot. Retarded. Keep me from breeding dumb. Numbskull. Doofus!
Birdbrain! Imbecile! That's a good one. I'm an IMBECILE. And a fool. How about a driveling and bewildered asinine fool? Yeah, that fits. Have I mentioned unintelligent totally incompetent brainless buffoon? Sounds like me!

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Sometimes I am just irremediably stupid. ‘Someone should shoot me' stupid. I'll never see Mort again. I'll never forget her.

SUNISA: The second woman that got away was a big surprise called Sunisa. A big surprise and a big giant screwup on my part. I'll be kicking myself for years. I had two days left of my vacation and I was a little too full of myself. On this day I
had had two beautiful relationships and at 1:30am I was too wired to sleep so I went down to the hotel bar. As I walked in I spied a high class older woman sitting in one of the big chairs near the elevator.

About 35 years old. Some miles on her but good experienced miles. I have wonderful memories of woman that age. They like sex and they like men–"Dana honey, let's skip dinner and get to the main event!" And you aren't going to
hear any boring stories about their mother or their sisters. It has taken them longer than the men in their life; but even they have figured out that that shit is boring. Now if they open their mouths it is to say, "Here inside the front
door or do you want to go all the way to the bedroom?" And they have stopped torturing men like they did in their younger years. Now, if they are not interested–their motor's not running. And if their motor is running; well, it's
all straight ahead, not many turns and no reverse!

She is wearing an emerald green silk top, black skirt, and emerald green heels. Green eye shadow, red lips, and big rings. All woman and class all the way. No ill fitting off-the-rack clothes and cheap baubles stolen from her daughter's
jewelry box; but clothes that were fitted and tailored–jewelry that was quiet and heavy. A grown up woman with a grown up closet.

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I ordered a Bloody Mary, we made eye contact, and I motioned her over with my hand. That's right. You read right. I motioned her over to me with my hand as if I was Mr.Bigshot–Mr. Frank Sinatra–Mr. Jean Paul Belmondo–Mr.
Omar Shariff. That's right–I motioned her over with my hand like I'm calling a dog. She looked a little startled but she got up and she came over. We exchange names. And then, without a pause–I ask her if she wants to go
Boom-Boom! She laughs a little and says, "Shouldn't we talk a little first–get to know one another?" And instantly, like getting hit in the face with a plank; I realized that I had made a terrible mistake. Because her speech,
her command of English, her poise, her confidence was strictly high class. Suddenly I realized that she was ten times more classy than I had thought and I wanted her one hundred times more. Only the smallest shreds of dignity kept me from blurting
out MARRY ME; or it's companion–I'LL BE YOUR SLAVE. So I started back-pedaling like crazy–but the damage had already been done.

In the hotel room things didn't go wrong but they didn't go right. With all of my experience and confidence and interest I still couldn't bridge the gap between expectations and reality. I felt as if the room was full of huge
balloons that blocked my way and confused me. I couldn't move my arms and raise my hands without feeling as if they were attached to heavy weights. Eventually, we ended up lying side by side on the bed reviewing my ‘Learn to speak
Thai' notecards. Dog-eared companions of many years that I have never mastered. Two adults having a student-teacher relationship. And I could never figure out how to bridge the gap!

Barmate: What do you mean you couldn't bridge the gap? Why didn't you just put your hands on her?
Dana: Well, that's not really what I wanted.
Barmate: What did you want?
Dana: Well, I guess what I wanted was a
meaningful relationship.
Barmate: A what?
Dana: A meaningful relationship between two adults–a connection more meaningful than just sex.
Barmate: You're an idiot.
Dana: I've heard that before.
Barmate: Jesus,
man–she was a hooker; oh, excuse me: a high class hooker–and you were a sex tourist. What did you expect?
Dana: I don't know–I guess I was having a dream.
Barmate: More like a nightmare! Do you really think she
was interested in reviewing your dumbass Thai word and phrase notecards?
Dana: I don't know. . .
Barmate: You're an Idiot–Stupid–Retarded–Moron–Doofus–Bird Brain. . .
Dana: I've heard
this before.

Eventually, around 3am I gave her 500 baht teacher / taxi money and she left. As she was leaving she stopped at the door and drilled me with a look of sexual smoulder that would have neutered kryptonite. Not to be friendly–but to show
her contempt. I had the butterfly in my hand and I just wasn't man enough! Stupid. I'll probably never see her again. Another big one that got away.

So there it is guys: I'm not too proud to admit that sometimes I make horrible mistakes. Mort and Sunisa. Two big fish I never landed in the boat. Two lifetime regrets. I guess I'll just have to try better the next time. Wait a
minute. . . I see a woman. And she is smiling at me. See ya later. Wish me luck.

Stickman's thoughts:

You'll find your someone special one day, Dana.

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