Mia Noi 1

[MrX]

The mai nois tinkle down the Sois peeking into the vulgar black Benz idling at the lights.

 

 

Except I never wanted a mia noi.

 

 

 

She, who had thrown us into this, then wrought concession and left it unclear how to get out, possibly with honour, obviously.

 

 

 

 

Or so it seemed. Oh youth!

 

 

 

 

 

A typical routine link-up venue was Nana BTS. There are details. We met late, though I arrived early. Something to do with an evening ?soap?. To the dingy hotel, accompanied by the clumsy uncertainty of the purchased monopoly on her beauty. There is something about a windowless room with the TV flickering. Two hundred and forty baht plus a beer. She drank water. The doctor?s horse sulking in the corner, gynecological stirrup threads rusting slightly. Did no one ever adjust them? A sample prostitute might just have climbed aboard. I believed she herself had done so many times before; knew the precise arc and flexion to avoid much impact on her womb. But now it was disdained

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Apart from her duty at almost any hour she could be sleeping. From there she would convulsively go on frequent cross- town bike trips friend seeking. Sometimes old Bar co- workers, more often city migrant village friends, neglected through the great sweat shop days put in on her back. She even tried hanging out in The Bar itself but it hardly worked. She was mostly ignored there, now of different status and distant from their bawdy tragicomic daily fare.

 

 

 

 

 

Because it was largely happy, if inconsequential, perhaps it could have gone on like this forever, until one or other were tired. Do relations ever quicken in Thailand?

 

 

 

And limits came into view.

 

 

 

One night I was curiously free, walking out and telephoned her. She was eating at a food court on Rama4. No, it was not ok to come; it would be better tomorrow or even 2 days hence. While another time on my way to blind massage place I bumped into her buying food for a party at Sa?s house. Yes I could come kind of, but no she could not get away early to tryst. I passed and went on to the anticipated of caress of coarser hands.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There were disputes too.

 

 

 

 

Apart from petty markers a first milestone came sometime in September. She was late and rather than cogent excuse, lied baldly. Delicacy would probably have made light of it but I lathered.

 

 

?You angry me, I go home? she lit the short fuse

 

I was following her a few steps behind over the pedestrian bridge. She gave the impression of being lost. As the wall of shame rushed up to meet us I said:

 

?Let?s go to the ATM before you go home? easily calculating her funds were low but knowing the barbwire pride bowling down the street wouldn?t let us. So instead I watched her get into the old green and yellow with an unfamiliar sense of finality

 

 

 

Next morning on the phone:

 

?You no telephone, men finish two days I go work bar?

 

Not really the first blood I thought and then asked ?Why?? not really expecting an answer

 

?You pit? she said, boldly glossing the complexities of the world

 

 

Our next meeting I was ready for trouble, so much so I nearly called it off. But she was charming and compliant. She wanted more money than I usually gave her to go home with a friend and bring back her young brother and host his month off school. I agreed despite the whiff of customer smoke??.

[Encore]

Nice to see you back posting! Keep it up.

[Guest]

Please write of your next encounter,

surely you have more.

 

 

 

As in a hurry, PB forsaken for the closer well trodden bed in the Moslem side of town.

 

Ahhh yes, the pleasures of more then one.