Stickman Readers' Submissions June 17th, 2010


I was working on my laptop in my apartment, when my stomach informed me it was about time for my daily lunchtime stroll down to Tops Supermarket, at Central Plaza on Ratchadaphisek. I trekked there most days to stock up on drink, fruit and snacks to keep me going until my late evening meal with my Thai girlfriend, who shared my apartment. Ta was at work, and didn't usually get back until 7pm.

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My heading out on foot in the heat of the day always aroused a mixture of amusement and curiosity in the reception staff at the apartment complex. In short, I believe they had me down as just another crazy farang. What is it they say – only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun? But Central was only a 10-minute walk away, and I walked slowly in that heat.

I ran the usual gauntlet of soi dogs, beggars, and staring bystanders, as I had done most days for the past month since my arrival. I'd heard people refer to Farang as walking ATMs, but I felt more like a walking TV – a mobile source of free entertainment for any locals who had some time on their hands. Eventually I learned to ignore the stares.

After picking up a few bags of goodies at Tops, and spending a bit of time people watching from the Starbucks at the entrance to Central, I headed back. I also had some laundry to pick up from Mrs. Laundry, so I was pretty loaded by the time I got back to my apartment block. Several of the reception staff offered to help me with my bags, but though grateful, I politely declined, thinking (mistakenly as it turned out) that they had more important things to do with their time than carry my plastic bags for me. And anyway, the bags weren't that heavy. One particular girl though, who I hadn't seen before, insisted on helping, and even when I assured her I was quite capable of carrying my own bags decided she would walk along with me "just in case".

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As we walked over to the elevator for my block we started chatting. As we chatted I got a better look at her. I pegged her as early twenties. She was tall for a Thai girl. Maybe 5'8. She had incredible glossy black hair that fell down her back to a slim waist. She had long legs, and large breasts for a slim girl. She had quite a body on her. The most noticeable thing about her though was her gait – she walked very slowly, and had a soft, languid lilt, the likes of which I had never seen before or since. Her face was open, pretty, with the mega-watt smile so common among Thai girls. She had a light sprinkling of the acne that seems to temporarily afflict Thai girls from time to time, but she did not seem self conscious about it. In short, she was a very attractive young lady.

I asked her for some advice on where to book Thai cooking lessons. She said there were some conveniently located schools, and she would let me have the details. She turned out to be as bright as a button, funny, and with a gentle way about her I found immediately attractive. I asked her how she had learnt English. She said at school, where she'd also learnt French. I asked her a couple of questions in French – she was very fluent. I asked her if she'd been to France and she said no, but that she was going there in a few weeks. I asked her if she was taking a holiday, and it turned out she was going there to marry her French boyfriend. "I blide-to-be" she pronounced, and this statement seemed to cause her no end of amusement, as she chuckled away to herself.

I was surprised when she insisted on entering the lift with me, and escorting me to my apartment. I'd given up trying to convince her I didn't need any help, and so gave her the lightest of my bags to carry, which she did willingly.

Finally, I got into my apartment and heaved the bags onto the dining table. The girl did the same, but made no move to go. I started to thank her for her help. "It small thing", she said. As I pondered whether I should tip her or not, she said: "You want we go bedloom?" I stood stock still. I tried to re-parse what she'd just said. Did she just invite me to have sex with her? I was stunned. I figured I must have misheard her. Slowly I turned to look at her. She was wearing a big smile and was completely unabashed. "Yes?", she said, with a look that left me with no uncertainty as to her meaning. Bloody hell! "Errrr, no thank you very much. That's perfectly alright. No need for that." Oh my God, did I just say that? How bloody British! She smiled and muttered a crestfallen "OK". I thanked her for her help as I shuffled her to the door. I couldn't get her out of there fast enough. What the hell just happened?

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Now, as I mentioned, I shared the apartment with my girlfriend, and her shoes and clothes were quite plainly visible. This had proved to be no deterrent whatsoever! It seemed the presence of a "sister" already in the nest was not going to dissuade this girl from getting whatever the hell it was she wanted. My thoughts turned to the impending matrimonials. What was the basis for this marriage? Was it love? If so, it wasn't a concept of love I recognized.

A couple of days later, around mid-morning, there was a light knock at my door. I checked the spy hole – it was the "blide-to-be". I decided not to answer – I didn't want any further "embarrassments". After a few moments a note was pushed under the door, and I heard her high heels slowly click back towards the elevator. I could almost see the swing of her hips. I snapped myself out of it. Don't go there. I started to breathe again. I opened the note. It contained the details for a nearby cooking school. Instinctively, I turned the note over. Her name and a mobile number were there in a neat hand. A courtesy – or a play on her part – leaving the way open for me should I change my mind? I didn't get it. What did she think was going to come of this? Was this meant to be just a bit of fun before she disappeared off to France to get married? Was I perceived as a potential "upgrade". I certainly didn't think myself anything of the sort, but I had no idea what her French boyfriend was like. Just exactly what was running through her Thai brain? I couldn't get my head around it.

One thing was for certain though, that French guy was going to have his hands full!

Stickman's thoughts:

I you told me this story in Farangland I would think it was load of porkies but here in Thailand it is believable. The presence of one girl often does not put off others trying. And it works the other way too, so if your girly is someone the local Thai guys might find attractive, don't think that they will refrain from approaching her even if they know about you!

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