Thai Thoughts and Anecdotes Part 304
THE BOARDWALK IS MY AFRICA
"The specifics of Mayr's criticisms are too technical to need extensive airing here–they involve issues of meiotic sexuality, Hennigian cladification, and controversial interpretations of the genome Methanobacterium thermoautrophicum,"
— Bill Bryson
Well, of course; jeez, what could be more obvious? What's next: toes occur at the ends of feet? Jeepers creepers Kuhn Bill, didn't you have an editor? I can't think how many times I have said the same thing word for word either
out loud or in my mind. Why just the other day I was chatting up the latest bus arrival from Essan (dark skin, pink flip flops, pink short shorts, pink halter top, pink ribbon in hair) and I heard myself say by way of greeting:
"The specifics of Mayr's criticisms . . . "
But that is not really what I want to talk about today. What I want to talk about today is:
"Some scientists now think that there could be as much as 100 trillion tons of bacteria living beneath our feet in what are known as subsurface lithoautotrophic microbial ecosystems–SLiME for short." — Bill Bryson (again)
Now this is just an example of bad writing. I mean, who doesn't know this? I knew this when I was six years old. In fact, I named my hamster SLiME. Grab the reins Bill. You are not Jack London. You are not getting paid by the word. But
that is not really what I want to talk about today.
Truth to tell, I'm really just using these quotes and responses as finger exercises on my laptop. I am currently sitting in a bar on Beach Road waiting for inspiration to crash asteroid (writeroid?) like into my brain or to fly out of
my keyboard and plank slap me in the face. I'd like to do some writing but I don't have any ideas. Sort of like I'd like to do some fxxxing, but I don't have any erections. Hey, I'm in Thailand; what did you expect?
In the meantime, I am getting smiles from the girls at the bars. I come by every afternoon around 4:00 with a cooked chicken for the girls and to pick up Num. Num is my afternoon Fa. I pick up Fa every morning on the boardwalk around 9:30
and take her over to the A.A. Hotel, and I pick up Num every afternoon at this bar.
Anyway, I usually arrive with a chicken but about once a month I pull a 'Lennie'. What's a 'Lennie'? What's 'Doing A Lennie'? I call my friend Lennie who works at Pattaya Memorial Hospital and he hustles
over with one of those blue and white styrofoam coolers with a big slab of dry ice inside. You know what I'm talkin' about, those styrofoam containers they use to carry around body parts: hearts and livers and kidneys and things. Anyway,
I leave him on my seat at the bar to guard my laptop and I start on a charity mission that would make Bernie Tuppin, Charity Chairman of the Sportsman's Club, green with envy. In short, I stagger over to the Walking Street mototaxies and
get a ride to the new ice cream shop half-way down on the left. There I buy fifteen one scoop paper cups of ice cream and sherbert with little white plastic spoons stuck on top: lemon and lime and orange sherbert, coffee, chocolate, vanilla, mint,
strawberry, etc. Num gets two scoops of cherry yoghurt ice cream. All the little cups go in the cooler and the dry ice means I can deliver everything to my girls perfectly.
Anyway, I just handed out all the ice cream and sherbert cups to the smiling girls and Lennie went back to the cardiac unit with his Igloo cooler. Now, if I could just think of something to write. Wait a minute! Wait a gosh darned brilliant
writer minute: I just thought of something. You know how a year does not go by without another nature special on TV where some guy is flying a hot air balloon over animals in Africa? Looking down you can see herds of wildebeests, and solitary
lions, and crouching hyenas, and yawning hippos, and predatory crocodiles, and stupid rhinos, and beautiful ibis, and feminine gazelles, and gorgeous zebras?
Well, in my story for Stickmanbangkok.com I'll fly a hot air balloon over the boardwalk and describe all the gorgeous, and feminine, and stupid, and beautiful, and predatory, and yawning, and crouching, and solitary, and dangerous wildlife
I see there amongst the skanks, and cruisers, and trannies, and prostitutes, and thieves, and drug influenced, and whores, and JOTB's (Just Off The Bus) on display. The boardwalk will be my Africa and a hot air balloon would be the best way
to see it. Hey, maybe I could start a hot air balloon tour company of the boardwalk from North Pattaya to South Pattaya (or from South Pattaya to North Pattaya–wind direction not quaranteed). We could call it Dana's Boardwalk Balloon Tours
(DBBT). Something like that. Just thinkin'. Hey, and maybe my title for the story could be The Boardwalk Is My Africa. Sweet Jesus on a balloon, don't you just love it when a plan comes together?
So come with me now as I fly what I imagine a typical hot air balloon trip would be like with two Russians, one Chinese, one Korean, and an American family of three: husband, wife, and daughter. I imagine balloon tour conversations might
go something like this as we drift over the boardwalk and look down:
Me: Ok everybody, if you look below us you will see a yawning skank doing her nails while an elderly German approaches.
Japanese: Is she going to do Yum Yum and Boom Boom?
Me: Just keep your cameras ready folks. Anything could happen. And over on our left behind the palm trees and in front of the big construction pit you can see four trannies waiting for a short middle aged white guy wearing beach pants.
Korean: Can you fly the balloon down low so we can put our hands on the ladyboy crotches?
Me: No, and please respect the animals. Now if you look up near the steps to the plaza in the distance you can see a solitary whore sneaking up on two young men wearing soccer shirts.
Russians: Can we throw these rocks at her?
Me: No sirs, those rocks are ballast for the balloon and please respect the wildlife.
Russians: If we come tomorrow can we bring our own rocks, and can we get a discount?
Me: Nyet and nyet. Now, if you look to your left you can see the twinkling lights of the offshore restaurants.
Six Year Old Girl: Mommy?
Mommy: What honey?
Six Year Old Girl: Why is that beautiful lady on her knees in front of the man on the beach?
Mommy: Gasp . . . (long drawn out scream that makes everybody on the boardwalk look up) . . . TAKE THIS BALLOON BACK IMMEDIATELY.
Me: Pay attention to your light meters folks, and have your cameras ready.
Six Year Old Girl: Mommy?
Mommy: What?
Six Year Old Girl: Why did that beautiful lady just pull a big pink sausage out of her pants?
Mommy: Oh, my god–that's not a sausage. And that's not a lady: TAKE THIS DISGUSTING BALLOON BACK IMMEDIATELY.
Me: Remember the light meter rule folks–you bought it, now use it. And if you don't have a camera today, we can make glossy 4 color high resolution pictures available of everything you have seen today. We do it back at the office.
Husband: The office?
Me: Yes, remember when we boarded the balloons? And remember the woman who took your money and gave you your tickets?
Husband: Yes.
Me: She'll reinact anything you see here on your balloon tour of the boardwalk from South Pattaya to North Pattaya, and I take a picture suitable for framing or photo album.
Husband and Korean: Anything?
Hey, this is gonna be great. Just thought of a fun story idea and I can start writing. Oops, Num is giving me the eye. It looks as if she finds me sexy and attractive, but what it really means is that she is broke again and needs 500 baht
to pay off the girls she has borrowed from. So I'll take her to the Right Spot Hotel down the alley just past Soi 16 on Walking Street and we'll make love on the Thai style raised platform bed. Afterwards we'll swim like seals in
the huge spa sized bath tub. Then back to the bar where she'll work tourist farangs for money, and let me hold her purse while she goes some place to get shagged and bagged. In the meantime, I'll sit at the bar and pound out this story
called The Boardwalk Is My Africa.
I love this country. I love my life. And tomorrow morning around 9:30 I am going to love my Fa. If you are reading this from another country, why are you in another country?
Stickman's thoughts:
What would Saturday be like without Dana?!
