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And Blood Came Out Of His Eyes--by Alexander Turner


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And Blood Came Out Of His Eyes

-by Alexander Turner

 

"Pay nay.."

"Pay tiaw."

"Pay duay."

"May daay"

"Tamay"

"Mi mia laaw."

"May klua."

How many times in one day can this conversation take place. Walking down Sukhumvit Road at any time of the day or night there'll be somebody linking their arm to yours.

"Unhand me woman."

"But I love you."

"Oh come on. You can't be serious. You don't know anything about me. For all you know I could be Fritz Harrmon the child murderer of Dusseldorf."

"I don't care. I love you."

"Oh for heavens sake. Don't be absurd."

"You don't like me?"

"Yes. I'm sure you're a very fine human being but, well, I'm a homosexual."

"Not true."

"No. No. Not strictly true. But I had a very nasty experience and I'm afraid that no woman can arouse me now. Very horrible it was. Somebody had this picture of Queen Victoria with no clothes on. Ever since I've had a bit of a problem with the man downstairs."

"I bet I could wake him up."

"Well. I dare say you could but... Well it's very complicated. My religion expressly forbids that I become interested in women."

"I don't care about that. I only know I love you. I want you."

"Well you can't have me."

"If I can't have you then no-one will."

It's at this point the gardening shears come out.

"Now you don't want to do a thing like that."

"I'll cut it off and carry it around in a little parcel like Abe Sada."

"Abe who? Now clear off."

"There's nothing you can say to me that will change the way I feel about you."

"Listen. No. Look. I don't have any money."

"What?"

"Ah. Look. Wallet. Empty."

"You... You're a rubbish farang?"

"Yes that's what I've been trying to tell you."

"You go fuck dog."

Ah. Sukhumvit Road. How I miss it. The traffic. The storms. The cheap Levi jeans whose buttons never quite line up with the buttonholes. The cracking bridges. The massage parlour touts. How do they get that job? Do they have little ads in Thai Rath.

Wanted "A Scary Looking Guy With A Broad Grin Who Can Call Every Passing Farang My Good Friend And Flash A Small Brochure With Pictures Of Women Taken Some Time In The Mid Eighties Who Never Worked In Our Broken Down Old Massage Parlour Anyway".

And Sukhumvit Road at 3.30 with those strange powdered creatures whose voices are in some inhuman range calling out "Hello Darling. Me so horny. Why you walk in the middle of the road?"

"Catching a bus. Pavement cracked. Riddled with AIDS."

"That's okay. Me too."

"Haha. Got to run."

In all of Bangkok there are much more interesting places than that little stretch between Nana and Asoke. But that road seems to somehow belong to every regular farang who goes to Bangkok. It must have the highest concentration of hotels in the town.

I remember walking with a girlfriend I had once. She kept pointing out the hotels too me and telling me about their interior decor. She was mentally collecting hotels the way some people collect stamps. She was saying "I've been with a farang in nearly every hotel in the Sukhumvit area. I'm a fucking Princess of whores." Not literally of course. That's just how I saw it.

It's odd the things that people boast about. I was seeing this girl called Oy. Well. I was more than seeing her. We were living together in a place called the AA House. A lot of strange shit went down there. All irrelevent here.

One day we were sitting in a post coital haze and Oy started about how clever she was. She was a Patpong girl through and through. Anyway she told me about this time some guy had taken her to one of the short-time hotels on Patpong.

"He was really drunk. He took me there and could barely fuck at all. When he'd finished he gave me four hundred baht. I said "Fuck you! I don't fuck for four hundred baht." He said "Fuck you too." So I said "Okay." I went down and got three rot motorcycle drivers. I said "This cunt won't pay me the price for a fuck. He fuck me already and he give me this."

I gave them the money to beat the shit out of him. When he came down they got him on the ground and beat him to fuck. Blood was coming out of his eyes. That's what happens when you fuck with me I thought." And she had this glint of victory in her eyes.

I said "Oy. You're stark raving mad."

"If he don't want that he don't have to make like that."

And this was one of her crowning achievements. Having some guy beaten until blood came out of his eyes. I remember thinking "What am I doing living with this woman?"

But then who hasn't thought that at some time or another?

Alexander Turner

[ February 22, 2002: Message edited by: Cent ]

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