Allow me to start on a low note and finish high.
Not trying to take rice out of anyone’s bowl, but can someone please put a fork in the Nana disco-it’s done. It’s just so sad to see the servers out front, dressed in non-partisan blue (non-partisan here anyway), weakly trying to hand out valueless fliers to people who don’t want them.
I know genocide and the Russian invasion of Georgia are/were bad, but what was done to this place smacks of a crime against whoremanity. Guess instituting and hiking a cover charge until NO ONE comes wasn’t a good business move after all. Who knew? Particularly poignant for Jack because there was a time when he didn’t venture out to the Golden, the Plaza or soi 7; IT was right down stairs. A dozen girls, no waiting and that made paying 150 baht for a beer cool. You could leave the umbrella at home too.
Speaking of HQ, the inn with the free rest rooms across the street from the Plaza, have you heard it’s for sale? I have, from a couple sources. Of course, this doesn’t make it true, but it’s interesting. Heard 600 million (baht) bandied about. My take is maybe the owners know something we don’t. My further take, as I’ve tried to practice during my ‒working retirement”, is to hit IT as hard as you’re able to. Like all good things (the 39 baht fish filet special at Mac’s for example), our soi 4 diversions may not last forever.
Speaking of Mac’s, as reported earlier, they opened a new one next to the 7 at the PTT station on the corner. I think it goes 24/7. Try to keep it a secret from the Plaza’s numbered ‒workers” as we all know how delicious, deadly and fattening that stuff is. Oh well, everything in moderation. Just bring ’em a diet with their fried chicken and cone dip.
It’s the McDonald’s opening and the rush to open bank ATM branches/currency exchanges (i.e., where Mongo’s–not Mango’s, Mongo’s–used to be in the Pacific Place building at the foot of the Nana BTS station) that give me hope that we may yet survive the AmerEurAsian subprime financial contagion. Good to see some businesses stepping up in the face of such bad economic conditions.
Speaking of business conditions, through the largess of my employer, Jack’s here on a one-year visa. I’m older now, maybe a little wiser, try to play by the rules (except at golf) and, thus, I go to Thai Immigration every 90 days to report my address.
The drag of the 90-day reporting date approaching is actually worse that the trip itself because there’s usually eye candy on Suan Phlu and it’s one of the only services you can get in Thailand for free (the other being plastic bags at Foodland). I always shower, comb my hair, wear an almost clean white dress shirt, speak some Thai and don’t crowd the staff. They treat me well.
Went today, a Monday, and it being the day after a weekend, I expected the usual crowd of tattooed, tank-topped Pattayans, dreadlocked Kao San Roaders and clean-shaven, bleary eyed English teachers. Instead, it was the emptiest I’ve ever seen. I was in and out in 20 minutes. It’s November now (the onset of high season?) and, you know, maybe there’s something to the tourist slowdown thing. As such, for those of us here, please see paragraph four above about hitting IT as hard as you can. We’re blessed.
What’s interesting about us is how we all do IT a little differently. You know, pound the pavement, ride the escalator to the Go Gos, arrive chauffeured at G Clubs, get soaped up on an air mattresses, allow ourselves to be ushered in to Lolita, call out to escorts, listen to German fight songs on soi 7, leeringly ride the BTS, become wired drinking $5 coffee while staring over the top’s of our newspapers at the Lang Suan Starbucks or just hang out near the women’s room at Ram U. We’re lions hunting our prey (and I mean that in a nice way).
The thing is, for the dysfunctional ones of us without girlfriends, me for example, you’re only as good as your last short time. You bask in the afterglow for a minute, pay the freight, say good night, good morning and ‒good dream”, eat some rice, sleep and after a day or so, you’re back in the jungle. A lot of the time, I’m a gerbil on a wheel.
But boy, finishing strong, maybe only three over par on the back nine, when IT’s good, is IT good.
In the interest of noting its still possible, despite what Dawson says, had the pleasure this past week of meeting one of Nonthaburi’s most lovely creatures ever hiding between the Vios and Hilux in the lot behind the wall. So pretty I thought she was a guy. It was late, 2 am, way past my bedtime, but sometimes the prey comes out at night to forage. Thing is, you just never know where IT’s gonna’ come from do you? Stopping now. I can see Dawson typing, ‒Yeah, I was 16 once too.”
Love your work on ‒thefarangspeaks2much.” Be proud. This brings us together more than anything else, don’t it?
Well, that’ my 800 words or so. Oh wait, that’s that other site.