A Quick Return IV

Have you ever noticed how time seems to slow down or speed up depending on the situation? Time, back home in the long boring afternoons at work, can drag along in mind numbing monotony. Holiday time behaves even more so while lolling at the beach, but
the end of your trip always looms quickly out of the alcohol induced fog, racing quickly to wave at the airport and send you home. Usually I am looking forward to some of the nicer things at home, so it is with mixed emotions that I look at returning
to the land of the long white cloud.

This time I was acutely aware that my time with C was drawing to an end. I don’t know about you, but I always wonder if you will be able to recreate the magic the next time, and I never bank on it happening due to circumstances beyond
your control. It wasn’t just the sex (honest) but the multitude of things that I had enjoyed with C this trip, which quite frankly had made the other guys along on this trip jealous, (and which they tried to simulate with bar girls to varying
degrees of success). I had never been to the movies on holiday, so C and I went and saw Stealth together, eating popcorn and snacks in the nice theatre. I had never used my time taking a bar girl, but C and I enjoyed the chance to do such a simple
thing together, and later stopped at one of those photo booths and took some pics to remember the week by. (I had a lot of digital images and video of some of our exploits, but no printer with me, so pictures were the best way. I look at those
pics today and try to see whether she really is a hot looking babe, or if it was just my hormones making her seem that way. Guys I have shown her pics to say she is a nice looking babe, so I guess I was not totally blinded by lust or alcohol.)

The feelings of the moment overcame my normal brain function, and at my suggestion we stopped in a shop and looked at gold chains, so C would have something to wear around her cute neck to remember me by. Earlier in the week I had asked C
why she wore no gold and she told me she had pawned it, but she never asked me to get it out. I got a chain for 2500 baht and C wore it out of the store beaming and making a fuss, and later I am sure I would get repaid very enthusiastically for
the purchase, so I did not mind the treat. Part of the problem for me was that I was spending money hand over fist on gifts for people back home (including 2 lady friends – disguised to C as presents for my daughters) and I still maintain that
in the balance C cost me less than she saved me by doing my bargaining.

The last night there we went up the tall tower to the revolving restaurant, and had a fairly happy group dinner, watching the world go around as we ate and drank. (By the way, if you are the seasick type don’t sit on the outside edge
of the tables as the bench beside you slowly moving as seen out of the corner of your eye can make you feel ill – eh P) We had managed to pay the locals price of 400 baht, by sending the girls along to get tickets and standing out of sight, saving
us 150 baht each. We more than made up for this with our drink purchases, so it all evened out into a nice night, and something none of us had done before. As it happened I was sitting opposite expat R’s wife and her sister, with C beside
me. In an attempt to be friendly I used my very very limited Thai with them, and got a sharp ankle tap from the lovely C for my troubles, so she had staked out and was defending her territory, which cracked me up. I have yet to meet anyone more
jealous than Thai girls in general, and I’m surprised more cat fights don’t happen in clubs etc. In spite of this trait, I had had a great time with C and smiled so much that certain muscles, unused most of the time at home, were
a bit sore from constantly smiling. Wow – this really is the land of smiles!

The day to leave was fast approaching and I had seen signs all around town of taxis or cars to take you to the airport for around 1000 baht, so I asked C what her brother in law could do price wise so I could use his mini van. He came back
with a, lower than we had got on the way down, price of 1500 baht which meant C could accompany me on the trip and see me off, and it had the face value of putting money in family pockets. We had breakfast on the beach one last time, then emptied
the room and left Pattaya and headed to the airport on the toll roads. What a bumpy weirdly connected main route that is! Sometimes you would turn in the wrong direction and then do one of those elevated u-turns and be back in the right direction
dodging the huge busses and trucks. We stopped half way in a rest area with many food stalls, and I said I wanted a last fried rice, which elicited a strange look from C. I wandered all the way up our side of the food stop, all the way up to McDonalds,
and could only find noodle based dishes, weird things wrapped in leaves and strange cakes of I know not what. I got back to C and admitted defeat, and she said when travelling this way everyone ate noodles. Bizarre. There was a large overbridge
connected to the similar set up on the other side, and if I had not been limited by time I had wanted to go see what they had that side, for all I knew they all had rice dishes which is what you ate when going south. The other side also had KFC
and I had not tried it in LOS, opting for local dishes, or their versions of farang food like the spicy spaghetti. I tried some of C’s noodles and after my tongue stopped burning – I went and got a burger, my first in LOS. The last thing
in the world that I needed on a plane flight was a half pound of chillies and who knows what else trying to make an escape, from either end.

We pulled up in the chaos that is normal for the airport, and I asked C to stay in the van and I would see her off from there, citing that they would be there for hours to see me off. We hugged, there were no tears – thank you, and I gave
her all but a few thousand baht which I slipped into her hand as I got out. I watched the van pull away and walked in to check in my bag – a full 2 hours before take-off. I am never early for ticketing, but had an ulterior motive, so I raced through
and checked in and got my boarding pass.

Once free to go to the departure lounges etc I back tracked out through the checkpoint and proceeded up a level to have my now traditional departing LOS Thai massage. I ordered an hour of torture, and had a wonderful kneading prodding and
stretching before my forced confinement in a seat which I, at 5 foot 8 and 65kg, find cramped (I pity you big buggers!), and the long trip home. C had tried several times to give me massages, which turned into tickling and groping sessions, but
never a good massage. All of us guys had had great foot massages at various times, but I never really got my fill of massage therapy this trip, so I tried to make up for it before leaving. The airport relaxation and massage centre may overcharge
by 50 or 100 baht, but if you have the time I recommend it wholeheartedly. Last time we left my friend P had been ‘operated’ on by a tough stocky babe who was truly evil, the way she stretched and prodded him, but this massage was
the prefect mix of pain and pleasure.

I wandered through the departure process, bought a couple of bottles of local whiskey for sharing at the next party and boarded my plane. Once seated I realized I had forgotten to grab a sleeping pill from P and was bound for a boring trip,
made even more painful by the guy beside me wanting to actually talk with me! What are people thinking! I feigned sleep and arrived back home, freezing in my shorts and a Singlet, retrieved my car and luckily made it home before I fell asleep
for real.

The next day I went to work, logged on and lo and behold – there was an email from the lovely C. This was no boring normal email – no – it had been dressed up with bells, whistles and winking smiley faces and was nicely colour co-ordinated.
I replied that of course I missed her etc etc and these emails kept coming about every day or two for a few weeks. When the emails stopped I was not too concerned, and from R I had had a few more emails about the exploits of T and P still over
there, spoiling the local girls by dropping 50 baht note down their tops for a look and quick feel of their boobs. R said he feared it would drive inflation up on the affected sois, making the normal restrained punters look like Cheap Charlies.
The boys later reckoned they were only getting rid of their last baht, so they had wanted to have some fun with it.

The next email from R had more serious matters, and it seemed C had had to go to hospital, and been admitted, hence my lack of emails from her lately. I called her number and could not connect, and sent a few emails and waited on news from
R. Eventually he found out she was in Sattahip hospital some 30 km away from the big P by the sea, and something was wrong with her stomach. I tried a few times more to contact her, but never got through, so I was doing my correspondence with
R via email. It turns out to have been a kidney infection, which C suggested she maybe got from a dirty toilet? Weird? After 5 days inside it turned out she is ok now and can leave, but has to pay 24,000 baht to get out. R emails me and said she
was desperate and asked if I can help her, as she has only half the money.

Man! If anyone had told me I would be sending money there after all the stories I would have bet a fair amount against it, but here I was. C had 12,000 baht and asked through R if I could help out, as she had nowhere else to turn to. That
amount of money is about what I spend on a weekend trail riding trip up to 90 mile beach with the boys a few times a year, so it was not a life or death amount to me. Still – it was a chunk of change that I would rather have in my wallet than
not.

To cut to the chase, I sent the money! My reasons were – it was not life or death to me, but it was to C. I was intending another trip there later in the year, and considered C my girlfriend there, so why not help out. If it had been for
another member of the family I would not have done so, and I also figured that hospitals don’t admit you for no good reason. C said later that the local government hospital is thought to be not so clean, so she went to the nicer one, not
thinking she would be there longer than her money allowed for, knowing she could not afford Bangkok Pattaya hospital. This made me wonder what would have happened if no one had paid – do they lock you in the basement till someone ante’s
up and gets you out of hock? Don’t people plan ahead just a little bit there, about anything? What would happen in a real emergency requiring serious hospital time and operations? I will admit it made me a bit happier I live where I do,
as I have had some hospital time, and numerous visits here (racing trail bikes – it happens) and never paid a cent, though yes – I am taxed up the ass every time I turn around.

The funny thing is – just like girlfriends I have helped out here, there has been no offer to pay back the money. Do females everywhere just assume we will pay because they are saving us money on hookers by not paying for sex? (I believe
this to be the case, probably unconsciously on their part). If one of my mates asked for the same thing I would pay easily, and know that he would pay me back when he could, without even having to discuss it. Chicks! I have to tell you, it has
changed the way I think about C in my mind, and if she knew that she would be saddened, because it has tainted her memory in some ways. I will be visiting LOS again in a few months, and now I wonder how I’ll feel about C when there.

Would it just be easier to break it off and go out with bar-girls in the long run? In some ways – yes, in other ways no. C gave me more than just the GFE – though now that distinction was being clouded in my mind, by money. I’d had
intentions of having C come to NZ for a months visit over summer here, but for the reasons stated now I feel it would be a bit like having a pet for a month. Something has changed in my head, and only time will tell which way this works out, but
I will let you know, when I know.

As an aside – Purely by chance last weekend while I was away at a bike race, my 2 part time girlfriends back home ended up in my favourite bar, and got chatting. (The bar staff who know me said it was like watching superman and a chunk of
kryptonite together). Talk soon turned to be about me, and imagine their surprise to find out they were both spending ‘quality time’ with me different parts of the week. Needless to say this problem has now been solved, and my social
calendar is suddenly freer than ever before. Ah – you gotta love it, but at least life ain't boring!

Cheers.

Stickman's thoughts:

Comments to follow, one day, maybe….if I ever find the time….actually, maybe we are better off without my silly comments?