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The Farang Boarder At My House Part 2

  • Written by MUD
  • February 2nd, 2006
  • 6 min read

So, I go to sleep alone about 8:30 pm. I'm a bit stuffed up, but the real reason is I don't want to see this guy that's staying in the room upstairs any more than I must. I'm hoping he leaves while I'm at work the next day.

I wake up about 5 times. He is up and down the stairs in his slippers. Comes down, turns on the lights, unlocks the door, walks out goes around the side of the house right outside my bedroom window in his slippers and he smokes. He talks to himself, but I can't understand it – English is his second language. The dog is growling and barking at him off and on. Not sure what to make of him. Most of the girls that live in the dorms surrounding the house are asleep between 2 am and 5 am. Some come home during that time, but none of them come outside many times during the night to smoke or walk around talking to themselves. The dog has a right to be freaked a little bit. I am. He walks back in the house with same damn slippers, dragging driveway dust all over my living room, locks the door, shuts out the light, scampers up the steps, goes into his room and locks the metal door.

I wake up for work and go out at 7:40 am. I SMS my girlfriend – please stay away from the house today – maybe he's still there.

I get home from work 7ish after working on a web site (another story) I've been busy with lately. The guy is in the driveway sitting on the bench with the landlord of the property. It's not my house – I don't have a say in who stays. I go in the house and change quickly. He follows me in and asks if we can talk on the porch for a minute…

"Sure" I say.

We sit across from each other on the porch. He starts just blurting stuff out… here are some of the the statements I remember…

"I don't really feel good about what happened…" Meaning our conversation about what's my part of the house is mine and what's his is the room he rents and the bathroom upstairs.

"You made me feel like I was a fxxxing idiot!"

"You treated me like I was fxxxing retarded! Like I was a fxxxing little kid at school!"

"I'm not stupid!"

"I'm not a fxxxing child"

"I'm not a fxxxing retard".

As he went on and I listened I flashed back to my days in the psych field in America… I used to work with some pretty profoundly disturbed people – axe murderers; a mother who smothered her 3 children with pillows; People that have schizophrenia, major depression, borderline personality disorder and a host of other things. Those days were over 9 years ago, but that's when I last recall having a conversation that had this kind of substance…

At one point I was 60% sure we'd be fighting on the porch as he worked himself up, re-living the total humiliation he felt the day before. As I listened I looked at his neck, his arms, the layout of the table and chairs and the bench behind him and tried to figure out the best strategy for taking him to the ground and beating him senseless before he did the same to me. I reverted to my counselor mode and listened and made no threatening body language or accusations… mostly asking him why he felt that way… telling him that I wasn't angry when I talked to him before. I didn't raise my voice…. He then broke in with "Yah, you told me to shut my fxxxing mouth for 3 minutes while you were talking!"

Entirely untrue. And so I asked him, did I say FXXXING with you? Did I get angry with you at all as I was talking to you? I DIDN'T SAY FXXXING because I wasn't angry. I said, "Wait, wait, don't interrupt, just listen until I'm done and then you can say whatever you want…" Because during that talk he wasn't listening – just wanted to get his point across in the middle of mine.

Anyway…

I told him the reason I told him the way things were at the house. I told him that I wasn't angry. I didn't raise my voice. I told him that if he felt fxxxing retarded, there was nothing I could DO about that. I told him that I've told numerous people that my kitchen is my kitchen, my restroom is mine, my hot shower is mine, my TV and living space is mine.. and not one person ever told me they felt like I was treating them like fxxxing retards. I told him I was just letting him know the way it was because he needed to know.

And, the situation diffused a bit after that… we shook hands… he walked off to smoke and take his shirt off… in the driveway.

Over the next day or so he asked me many questions about the area and the people… and told me too many things about himself that I didn't really need to know, like his wife, son, and brother in law are in the witness protection program hiding from motorcycle gangs… He told me of buying a fake UK driver's license on Khao Sarn Road. He told me of the ease of buying heroin, methadone, weed, morphine and other drugs in Bangkok and up north.

Sunday night he was telling me how this town wasn't really a "good fit" for him. He didn't "feel right" here… He had spent the past hour riding his rented motorsai around the town offering locals money to find him some weed. Nobody sold it to him.

As I worked on the computer, he walked down the soi to the 7 Eleven at 10:00 at night. The dogs on the soi barked and ran up to him, scaring him. He heard some locals laughing on their porch – and he "told them that they should call their dogs"… This guy has no understanding that the locals here don't understand English and especially not English with an accent. The guy got pissed that they were laughing at him and didn't call their dogs so he walked back to the house… picked up a big stick and walked back down the alley swinging the sticks and shouting at the dogs. He was laughing as he told me how the owners called their dogs then!

I went to sleep about 11pm. Locking the door and telling my girlfriend not to come over, the guy is still here.

That night I heard him get up about 9 times. He unlocks his upstairs metal door. Walks down in his slippers. Turns on the light. Unlocks the front metal lock. Walks out and around the side of the house in his slippers to smoke outside my window and talk. This time he was speaking English. He was threatening the landlords dog, Pepsi…

"go ahead… if you bark one more time …. Just one time….

RUFF!

Yah, go ahead bark, see what you're gonna get…

grrrrrrrrl grrrrrrl RUFF RUFF! Growl…..

"I'll kick you in the fxxxing head if you bark one more time…

RUFF RUFF! GROWL!

"I'll fxxxing…"

grrrrrrrrrrrrrllllllll

And I drift back to sleep… dreaming about a 1pm. Monday bus he's taking to Nong Kai and praying to Buddha that it's on time…


Stickman's thoughts:

This is the most bizarre story in a long time!