Stickman Readers' Submissions April 1st, 2008

The Story Of Madam Baht Cart Part 5


mens clinic bangkok

The rest of that night was spent sucking scotch and contemplating my next move. Had I been too hasty? Was there a legitimate answer to her absence? Was I stupid? [all together now] Of course I missed her and the next couple of days were a bit like a see
saw, up one minute down the next, glad she’s gone, wish she was here. Our condo was a friendly place; most people on each level knew each other and doors were mostly open to benefit from the breeze but also to make visiting easy. My room
was the second last at the end of the corridor; I had not noticed that my neighbor’s door had been closed for three days until I did a double take as I saw Nam walk past my door. Waiting for a knock, I heard none and thought I had imagined
it. What the fxxx was going on? Turns out my lady had shifted in with my neighbour.

This was a situation I could not come to terms with. Seemed to me the best thing I could do was get the hell out of there. I had not come to Thailand to fall in love but perhaps I had and that was not part of the plan. However I found it very difficult
to let my drunken fat neighbour have the satisfaction of lauding it over me. Say I am a coward but my rationale was to cut and run, easy come easy go.

A quick trip to the travel agent got me a trip to Farangland where I would be able to get my head straight. That worked a treat, almost a month of celibacy and I was raring to go again. Stuff devious neighbours and deceitful lovers, I am going back, back
to where a man can do what a man wants to do.

I had foolishly terminated my condo lease on departure so considered myself lucky on my return to find accommodation in the same ondo. Seems in my absence a tenant had died in a room and the manager was finding it difficult to rent. The room was on the
same floor as before, smaller but because of the ghosts much, much cheaper.

It was no time at all before life was good again. Girls came and went, my golf handicap went down. I was on a roll. Never saw much of the previous neighbour or of Nam. Perfect.

Why would one interfere with perfection? [Why would Warren or Bill need another billion] The nature of the beast.

My new neighbour was a middle-aged Thai lady who had won the Farang lottery. She had a large apartment sponsored by an ardent fan that seldom came to Thailand. To keep herself amused she had all of her needs delivered rather than go out.
One of the services that are most important to aging Thai women is that of a beautician and hers was a beauty who came regularly. I had by this time tired of easy conquests [B400 no I give you B300 wham bam thank you mam ] and was considering
a challenge. Did I still have some appeal to the opposite sex or had my race been run? The consequent events would be a whole new story but this is the story of Madam baht Cart, but a very brief divergence is necessary to keep the story in perspective.

wonderland clinic

I have after 2 months of wooing finally got the beautician onside and she agrees to move into my suite of a room. Things go beautifully, so much so that when the chance to upgrade accommodation presents itself we move swiftly. Same condo, same floor, double the size, little extra rent, no ghosts [oops should not have mentioned ghosts]. The beautician has changed occupations and is now reception at an upmarket hotel, twelve hours on twelve hours off which means, “I tired, I headache” which means not much sex.

Although I lived on the same floor as Nam and had come to terms with the situation I never more than nodded in passing, and to my knowledge Lipstick was unaware of our previous standing. Well the change of accommodation meant that we were almost neighbours
again so it was not a great surprise when she knocked on my door one afternoon [the womb mate was on day shift] she has a look around, criticizes Lipstick’s [her chosen name for the now ex-beautician] cleaning talents and asks if her bedroom
work is any better. She also informs me that while the money is a little better at her new residence the sex is the pits as he is most times too drunk. Now normally I would not consider mowing my neighbour's grass but given that it was my
grass to begin with. You are ahead of me again; give me a break I write slowly. We worked out a nice little arrangement to coincide with Lipstick’s absences and the fat fart's drunken comas which worked well until one day she left
her underwear in the bathroom after a hurried departure. Lipstick found the items and was not amused. She was most upset and to prove it she administered the most amazing oral thrashing of my appendage then shifted out. I think the message was,
see what you are going to miss.

I thought F…. me if you had performed like that regularly this would not have happened. Soon after Nam disappeared for a time and my fat ex neighbour surfaced to ask if I knew of her whereabouts as did several other residents. Seems her laundry customers
were receiving additional services. Where did she find the time and the energy?

My recollection of the following weeks is rather vague as I had reverted to form and was mongering and drinking full time. What a joyous period! I recommend it although my golf suffered as a consequence. It was perhaps a couple of months later that Nam
appeared at the fat fart's place to collect her belongings and called on me to help conveying them to her new residence. On the trip she confided that she had a new lover and he was very keen and rather stupid. Well neither the Fat Fart nor
I were unduly upset about her departure. I continued mongering and he continued to drink.

Not a lot was heard from or about Nam except for a visit to FF from an Englishman [who we will call Mr. Thomson]. Seems he was considering matrimony and wanted a character reference from FF. He was unaware of my relationship with Nam so did not contact
me. Not that it would have made any difference as he went ahead and married Nam in spite of FF marking her report card with a D minus.


A Dana Fan

Stickman's thoughts:

Only in Pattaya!

nana plaza