The Laundry Girl

Laundry At a recent Bangkok Bloggers Cabal meeting, we got onto the subject of what might perhaps be described as our more regrettable dalliances. Smitty’s Chinese grandmother experience has me beaten, but my own almost-forgotten tale still makes me chuckle.

I was drunk, again, in Thermae – this was last summer, incidentally, before Thermae had been annexed by the Japanese. The end of the night, and closing time, beckoned. I stared into my bottle of Heineken, wondering what to do next, and didn’t even see her sit down.

She was… maybe a 4 out of 10. She was really giving it the hard sell, though – describing to me in great detail the wide variety of services she could offer. The only problem was that she would have to leave early in the morning, as she worked in a hotel.

Given that the bar was almost desolate by this point, and that I was pretty much ready for sleep – I certainly didn’t have the energy to start trawling the Miracle Mile for alternatives – it was effectively her or nothing. “Come on then”, I told her, and she followed me out to the taxi.

I got a half-hearted massage back at my apartment, followed by some fairly forgettable fumbling. And then we had a conversation of some sort, but I wasn’t really listening, and was soon asleep. I was dimly aware of rustling movement early the following morning, but slept on – I finally rose at lunchtime.

She was gone, of course. As were all of my clothes.

I eventually remembered the post-coital conversation I’d basically slept through. She’d offered to do my laundry for me at the hotel where she worked, free of charge. I had apparently accepted. So, unsure of which piles of clothes were clean and which were dirty (I have a very complicated laundry organisation system – it involves sniffing), she’d swept all of my clothes up into a bin bag, and hauled them off to work.

I stood naked in my living room (I eventually found a couple of grubby t-shirts and a pair of shorts that she’d missed), wondering whether anybody in the world had ever done anything quite so stupid before.

Once I’d given up all hope of ever seeing my clothes again, she returned the next day with a basket full of my freshly laundered clothes. I felt obliged to tip her, but not before setting off everyone I explained my wardrobe situation to in the meantime into incurable hysterics.

7 thoughts on “The Laundry Girl

  1. The following is a regrettable and quite disturbing dalliance I would rather forget about:

    Last year in Pattaya on a crowded baht bus, I was squashed in between someone’s grandmother and what could be politely described as a fat sweaty female skip.
    It was not a pleasant experience.
    For some strange reason or perhaps a cruel twist of nature, I developed an unwanted and involuntary erection you could cut diamonds with.
    There is no smitty style ending to this uncomfortable embarrassing story but I do feel better having shared it with you.

  2. I am sorry, but this is just whacked out silly BBB! I am rolling here on my floor and laughing and now I think my clothes need cleaning too, you got her cell phone number anywhere???

  3. Brilliant! Sounds like you and Smitty will start trolling the same Thai Nursing Homes next. I hear they specialize in Denture-less BJs. You could also hit Nana Plaza during the day time. Many older cleaning ladies who used to be in the biz. A picture of you and Smitty London Bridging the Rainbow 4 cleaning lady would certainly make a good Pic of the Day. That’s after I vomit from the sight of it of course.

  4. Hey! Okay, so the Laundry Girl wasn’t much of a looker, but at least she was under 30!

    As for the Pic of the Day idea – hmm. Almost worth doing just for the reaction.

    Contact my agent to discuss my fee – Beer Lao and barfine credits may be accepted as payment in extreme circumstances…


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