Largactil Daze In Pattaya
My psychiatrist recommended me to travel to Thailand. He felt I had sufficiently recovered from the untimely demise of my 3rd wife to undertake the trip. My wife's death came as a complete shock to me despite her drug counsellor warning
me of the dangers of leaving loaded firearms about the house. An even greater shock were the protracted police enquiries and a court case her death instigated. This eventuated in me being requested, quite unnecessarily I believe, to explain myself
before a judge. He was rather a belligerent fellow who took a dim view of my behaviour and had the temerity to insist I undergo "remedial therapy" for a period of time at one of my country's institutions specifically designed for
this purpose. It was rather a grim place, although they did serve a hot breakfast on Sundays.
My psychiatrist explained that he had successfully transitioned several of his more difficult cases, as he so diplomatically put it, to Thailand, the town of Pattaya in particular. There, he embellished I may find new direction and purpose
in my life, in a tropical paradise. On a practical note he had arranged paperwork so that I may receive a disability pension, enabling me sufficient financial resources during my sojourn. I felt this was no less than I deserved after the treatment
meted out to me by the beauracracy, although I did have other money from a successful business I ran on the side. I would still need to return to my home country twice a year to obtain the medication upon which my fragile mental state so heavily
But perhaps a little bit about myself first. To cut to the chase I am a fat, old, ugly, lazy man. The acronym FOUL springs readily to mind, especially when you consider some of my personal habits, including a propensity to fart in mixed company.
I wallowed in a mire of apathy and mediocrity, traits which tended to make me a social pariah amongst my peers at home. Once I arrived in Thailand I actually found it quite ironic that my gross bearing and character traits, which had marginalised
me from society in my homeland, would in fact endear me to the expats and Thai people I met when I arrived. But more of that later.
Remarkably, despite an enlarged physique all my internal and external organs are in good working order. I put this down to a strict regimen of no more than 1 packet of cigarettes a day and following the recommended daily intake, by the health
authority, of no more than 16 standard alcoholic drinks in 1 day. One has to be so politically correct these days.
I previously enjoyed an active sex life and my marital home is equipped with the standard devices. Whips, spurs, handcuffs, rubber nurses' uniforms and erotic literature adorned my bedroom walls and cupboards. I was particularly proud
of my latest acquisition, an imitation diamond studded leather crowbar. Unfortunately my wife's passing had not yet given me an opportunity to explore its full utility.
I have 3 progeny that I know of, however they present no danger to the public at large. They are all currently incarcerated for lengthy periods of time, which has relieved me of the burden they present upon my life. Aside from gorging myself
on food I have a passion for chemical experiments, hydroponics and cleaning firearms. Without going into too much detail on a public website, I had combined my hobbies into a lucrative delivery business. It runs strictly a cash only basis, though
the unusual hours can become a little tiresome. I had managed to salt away a large sum which stood me in good stead when I arrived in Thailand.
So it was with some trepidation and my bloodstream charged with largactil that I boarded my flight to Thailand. I clutched all I held dear to me in life at the time – my prescription drugs, a pile of cash, my favourite rubber nurses uniform
and my pride and joy, the imitation diamond studded leather crowbar.
My first impression of Pattaya dispelled any anxieties immediately. I was singularly impressed with the profusion of bars, restaurants and massage parlours. And the people were so friendly I connected straight away. Where once I was the subject
of derision and scorn in my home country, here I found expats of a similar ilk. We exchanged stories and our histories. We all lamented the excessive intrusion of law enforcement agencies into our lives back home. Here the expats insisted, no
such constraints or intrusions into our personal affairs existed. Thailand was the land of entrepreneurship and money. It was, unlike our socialist home countries, unfettered by a beaurocracy hell bent on imposing their suffocating strictures
upon us. Financial acumen and monetary reward greased the wheels of its economy. As we shared our past and dreamed of our futures, these men became my confidantes, allies and friends. They were my trusted guides to all that was good and true about
Thailand. My grotesque physique and personal habits mattered little here. If anything they endeared me to the locals and expats alike and I became a chameleon in their midst. Of the locals what could I say. Charming beautiful ladies only too willing
to dispense their sexual favours. We laughed and joked and drank. I felt like I was "coming home" as my psychiatrist once explained to me I was transitioning to Thailand.
I suppose it was inevitable that for a man like myself who obviously held so much charm for the opposite sex, that I was destined to find love. I met Nong on one of my walks near the beach in the early evening. The sight of her dark skinned,
lithe body as she approached me intoxicated me as none of my prescription drugs could. A young, naive beautiful woman with her life in front of her and me a vulnerable old man in the twilight of his life. Destiny had intended us to be together.
Nong even smoked the same brand of cigarettes as I did, and I as was want to do with my previous lovers, we fell to comparing our tattoos.
Our relationship was consummated within an hour of meeting such was the mutual allure. We greedily explored each other's orifices with a tenderness and passion that was almost spiritual. We spent those days in a paroxysm of pleasure.
I vividly recall them even now. Nong, sensually attired in my rubber nurses uniform, deftly wielding my imitation diamond studded leather crowbar, bringing me to a state of ecstasy. And afterwards sitting, gorging ourselves on food and beer, Nong
in raptures of laughter as I belched and farted my way through the meal. Those mornings once a fortnight when we experienced the small thrill of checking my bank account to see my disability pension had arrived again on time. I felt privileged
to be experiencing Thai culture that few visitors to Thailand were privy to.
But, as the Bard says, all things must pass and for me it came at the cold, calculating hand of a heartless beaurocracy. The disability pension which I was owed, deserved and had suffered for was under review. In order to continue receiving
it I had to return home. My paradigm was shifting. My pile of cash had dwindled alarmingly and I could not survive without my pension. Nong, may the Buddha bless her, was practical and sympathetic to my plight. She encouraged me to be positive
and return home and recommence my delivery business which had brought such great financial rewards previously. I could accrue more capital, remit it to her and it would be the nest egg we could base our lives upon when I returned. My expat friends
encouraged me to expand my delivery business to Thailand, where they too would assist in establishing networks for me. I was fraught with indecision and my largactil was running low. Will Nong survive on the money I send her? Could she be entrusted
with my imitation diamond studded leather crowbar? Could I face again those barbarians that inhabited the fleshpots of my homeland?
Eventually I bowed to the inevitable and left my comrades and my darling Nong (and with her my heart) in Thailand. I eventually did return to Thailand some time later, but that is the subject of another story, one of hardship, cruelty, disappointment
and eventually salvation, which I will relate to readers at a later date.
Very nicely written!