Behaving Badly In The Bierhaus
Anyone familiar with my offerings on this site would know that I am pretty much a ‘live and let live’ kinda guy. Except when I’m buzzed by feminazis or queers, that is. Notwithstanding, I recently found myself quite peeved at the behaviour of a certain bargirl. I had to rationalise my thoughts regarding this particular incident and sadly, the best I could come up with was a rather submissive “Well, what can you expect, really?”
An old friend of mine was in town from Holland. Marcel is no stranger to Thailand and usually takes full advantage of everything that Thailand has to offer. This trip was no different except that on this visit he had hooked up with a bargirl and she had stayed with him for the entire week that he had been in town. This was unusual for Marcel. His normal practice was to zip around poking as many different girls from as many different venues as he could manage. Getting stuck on one woman was not his usual style. Of course, this was none of my business. However he chose to spend his time and whomever he chose to spend it with was entirely up to him.
We arranged to meet for a civilised dinner towards the end of his week’s stay in Bangkok. We chose a respectable German style pub / restaurant which serves draught weissen bier and big, artery-clogging German dishes like pork knuckle, sausages and sauerkraut. My wife accompanied me and Marcel brought along his squeeze du jour, Nit.
The misses and I had been waiting at the bar no more than a few minutes when Marcel bowled up with Nit. Introductions were made and isn’t it marvelous how that ‘first impressions’ thing works?
Myself, my wife and Marcel were dressed in what is generally termed ‘smart casual’. We were suitably attired for this particular venue and occasion. Nit was dressed like a tart and looked completely out of place as soon as she walked through the door. It was the faded jeans, hundred baht tee shirt, large hoop earrings and badly applied make-up that gave her away.
Final confirmation was to be had as soon as she spoke.
Maybe Marcel didn’t notice but I find that hard to swallow. The wife and I tried to look past her appearance but the other customers and the staff did not hide their distaste at the sudden entrance of this pole-hugging hoe. I half expected someone to ask us to leave right then but with this being Thailand, the staff forced a smile and the rest of the clientele soon went back to their pork knuckles and apple strudel.
The misses tried to engage Nit in some pre-dinner small talk while me and Marcel raised a beer and took a look at the menu.
After a couple of minutes I could see by the look on my wife’s face that she was growing less and less enamoured with young Nit. She whispered to me that Nit’s language was very coarse and really not very pleasant at all. It had largely gone past me because they had been speaking Lao which I don’t grasp too well but suffice to say, my wife thought Nit was as rough as a rasp.
We decided to go through to the dining room. I was planning to plant Nit in a quiet corner where she would be less conspicuous and Marcel could feed her and keep her quiet. Fat chance.
No sooner had we sat down but Nit’s mobile phone rang. It was obviously one of her girl friends calling up for one of those bargirl to bargirl conversations that always seem to me to have no real beginning or end. After five minutes, Marcel suggested she take it out to the car park as her chatter was loud enough to blot out any attempts by the rest of the party to talk amongst ourselves. Nit pouted and flounced out without breaking her oratory.
We delayed ordering our dinner until Nit came back. Ten minutes turned to twenty and Nit did not return. Marcel went to look for her.
He found her in the car park still yakking away on the phone and asked her to give it up and return to the dinner table because she was holding everyone up. She came back to the table with Marcel but I could see that she now had one of those Thai sulks hanging over her like a big, black thunder cloud and my bet was that this was going to turn ugly at any moment.
Marcel tried to move the evening on by suggesting that we order some food. The misses and I were all in favour but Nit declared that she was not hungry and only wanted a cup of coffee. Here we go, I thought to myself.
We ordered food for three and a cup of coffee for Nit.
As soon as the food arrived, Nit picked up her mobile and called her friend back and again began jabbering away in excessively loud tones at the dinner table. When she hung up, she declared that she had just invited this girlfriend of hers to join us for dinner.
Marcel flushed either with rage or embarrassment and told Nit in clear and concise terms that her friend was not welcome and demanded that Nit call her back from the car park and tell her not to come.
Nit pushed the table, splashing beer and coffee as she got up and flounced out for a second time. The wife and I looked on to see what was going to happen next. Marcel decided to go after her while me and the misses dug in to our dinner.
A full forty five minutes later, Marcel returned to the dinner table. He was flustered and apologised for the way the evening was turning out. I was actually sorry that we had not had a chance to have a chat over dinner as planned and my own patience with this petulant little tart was starting to wear a bit thin too. I asked where she was.
They had had a big fight in the car park over Nit’s friend joining us (or not) and she had called him all manner of names before storming off. She told him she was going back to her bar to find another customer who was not such a tight arse.
The three of us agreed that it was good riddance to bad rubbish and ordered another round of beers and schnapps. We continued our social evening without the whore from hell and enjoyed some after dinner conversation in a way that would not have been possible had the little strumpet remained in our company.
And the lesson as I see it, is :-
“Bratwurst and bargirls don’t mix”.
This story is oh so familiar. I was contacted by a couple of "local businessman" a couple of years back who wanted to talk business with me. They offered dinner and invited the Mrs.. to come along. It all sounded legit, so we went along. The two businessmen brought along two hookers, that was two hardcore hookers. The Mrs. made her excuses there and then as I should have. I wolfed down some food and then made my excuses. What are people thinking?! I never did hear those two "businessmen" again.