Gold

[MrX]

The plane home landed on Saturday afternoon, half an hour early, slipping in easily under Don Muang?s dirty marble skies about 3?oclock. I was tense as a crossbow though. I had neither seen nor had news of the Isaan Princess for three weeks now which in accelerated bar-girl-time meant almost anything could have happened. Quickly! Passport control, down the steps, bags collected, I loped into the meetingreeting hall and parked myself on a plastic chair, wondering whether, anything, even my phone, still worked.

 

My call came through though, like an assault down the line and I felt her reel back. From this, and having always been almost morbidly over-sensitive to the nuances of voice tones, I knew instantly how things were. She recovered quickly though, slipping on her old defensiveness like the tatty familiar garment it was, but her secrets were out. She would never have me over a barrel again. I could barely contain my sense of triumph at having faced down the twin monsters of separation and her feigned indifference to my absence. Yeah?...never again, I crowed, would she have so much power as she had wielded just before I left Thailand.

 

Despite the jet-lag, I jauntily made it to the bar for nine o?clock that evening. She was there, sitting outside already, street-clothed munching beetles. Though I had rehearsed this meeting obsessively, over and over I still wasn?t quite prepared for the terse nod of her head which said ? don?t approach me? no saccharine? go inside the bar, order a beer like any other goddam evening?....wait till I come and find you?. Many eyes followed me in. She had always calls the shots there, and it seems only fair, after all it is the ?where and how? of her eating, while I just drop by.

 

Later in the short-time room I knew just to look and listen. . Our business would surely come to me. She told how she and Tik had conferenced, deciding it was time to stop working bar; that it was too dangerous and boring. She spoke too, about a wealthy American tourist who had fucked her 2 nights running and wanted to take her home. Just like a souvenir I thought. I noticed most of her gold was missing. Time to act. I suggested a buying trip for the next day and she agreed. As she accompanied me to the corner where Soi Cowboy joins Soi 23 to get a taxi, her last words were ?call me tomorrow ok??. Unusually solicitous.

 

I did call her at 4 o?clock and to my surprise she wanted to meet at my condo.

?Take a motor-cycle taxi, get off in the front of the condo and I will come down and get you? I said. She arrived almost immediately and as we slowly went up in the lift to my floor I was praying we wouldn?t meet anyone I knew..

 

In my flat her palpable unease made me sweat. She perched on the most uncomfortable chair when I expected her to squat on the floor. Refusing food. and water, she wanted nothing, except to look outside like a caged animal through the huge windows which panoramize the city. I felt some sympathy for her, remembering the first time I had visited Nee?s house on Soi 2 and how strange it had been. But as the minutes passed and still she parried all my attempts to talk, comprehension gave way to irritation. When she finally said she was hungry I leapt up ready to go.

 

Down stairs I met several people I knew. They tangled us in sticky conversations so when PiAnn, my ex-dancer friend from The Bar taxied by we jumped in to save my life. By now IP was barely civil. She sat stiffly between us on the back seat addressing no one. What a fucking joke, buying gold for a pouting madam I thought. We got out at The Emporium anyway, though by now my enthusiasm for the trip was bottoming out near to zero. Over a street snack IP said little except that she knew jewelers on Sukumvit Thong Lor from when she had live there a year ago. As we walked miserably down the road I was almost laughing. The shop was closed of course because it was Sunday but now something perverse in me wouldn?t give up.

?Let?s go up to Nana? I said. ?Sure to be something with so many tourists around there?. IP nodded vaguely..

 

Finally on Soi 3 on the opposite side of the road near the Bamboo bar she spotted it. A small shop full of rocks and metal. Nearer, the gold pieces were big and gaudy and didn?t feel right but we went in anyway. IP hung back, unsure of what to do until someone brusquely told her it was all costume stuff. She sulked out blacker than ever.

 

We rounded off that fruitless afternoon with a stony drink at the open-air bar attached to the Nana hotel

 

?When you want to see me again?? I asked, beyond tact, as she was getting into her taxi

 

?Up to you?. Not a glimmer. I was seething and kept my face calm.

 

?Tell you what? I said. ?You phone me when you want and ?til then I no come bar OK mai??

 

?Today you talk maak ma? she spat back but I fancied her face already saddening as the taxi pulled away.

 

That night I fucked a whore, the first since I sat with IP 8 months before.

[Encore]

Nice writing, Romp.

 

Oh, those powerstruggles!

 

I can feel the tension in the air, I can see the boxing ring. The crowd is roaring, baying for blood.

The indomitable Rompandadam, locked in a life and death struggle with the fearsome Issaan Princess. Who will be victorious?

Will it be Romp, finally gaining the upper ground and subduing his dangerous opponent? Or will it be the wily and proud IP, forever enslaving her foe, and reducing him to a whimpering, barfine paying lapdog? :-))

 

Goldshops on Sundays? MBK, as well as the smaller independent shops inside either Tesco Lotus or Carrefour (Kafou) on Rama IV. speaking from experience :-)

 

But then, of course, you didn't want to find an open shop.

 

>That night I fucked a whore, the first since I sat with IP 8 months before. <

 

Interesting distinction, all's in the eye of the beholder.

Did that night's fuck really feel satisfying, or did you end up feeling empty and sad?

 

looking forward to the sequel