Under a Full Moon and the Golem Tree--parts 5--8

[Central Scrutinizer]

 

Under a Full Moon and the Golem Tree--Completed--parts 5 through 8

 

 

Under a Full Moon and the Golem Tree--part 5

 

 

Rather than sitting about all day not doing much but drinking, eating, reading my books, or trying to talk the wifey-poo into shocking the sensibilities of our nosy neighbors with an afternoon shag-fest, I try to find things of interest in the area to do a few times a week.

Fishing is a good one. Shopping too, if it's for something that "I" want to buy. Girl watching comes to mind as a fun way to kill an afternoon also, but the wife isn't into that, so it's not a "couple" activity, plus there are some hungry ducks out and about in the village.

I'm not religious, so sitting about the Wat and meditating with the monks is out, and plays hell on the old knees and back. Playing video games with look sow (daughter) can be fun, but she's in school all week. I'd play video games with the wife, but she cheats.

 

I don't ever want to get the ladies playing card games in the afternoon. They become obsessed and mental about this, it's also illegal, and they'll play for 24 hours non-stop until someone has lost the water buffalo, rice tractor, all their rai of rice fields, the house and pick-up truck, and next thing you know cute little Noi is being pulled out of school and sent to Pattaya to work in a beer bar to earn enough money to buy the farm and house and stuff back from the winners, with a few of the other village lasses whose parents are shitty card players who are already there in Pattaya and sending home a fortune in baht so their shitty card playing parents can get drunk and lose the money and end up sending younger sis down to join her. So that's out for recreational possibilities. I've tried to show them some farang kids type of card games to play, but they keep trying to bet on these games too.

 

Well, I'm fascinated and interested in ancient civilizations and the buildings the ancients erected and such. It's a cheap afternoon out, and cultural and interesting, and educational. Kinda like actually being in a National Geographic or Discovery Channel video of your own it is. And usually you'll run across some other things and places of interest. Something unusual usually happens on these outings to liven up the day and give a laugh or two. Diesel fuel is cheap enough too.

 

So. Let's go on an Isaan adventure for the afternoon darlings! I'll get to see the countryside in all its glory and splendor, stumble around ancient ruins nearly breaking an ankle or leg while trying to get that awesome angle shot of the carved stella face for my video camera, and you gals can get to stop and eat a couple of times at some unique and cool little noodle shop for some Cobra Venom soup, or minced spicy Buffalo balls and sesame oil fried rice, while I ice down my swollen ankle with a cold beer Chang! Whaddaya say? Up to me darling! I thought so. Let's go.

 

Plus when we get home we can show the kids tonight the video of some ancient and religious temples that they have never seen in their lives, that is only 20 miles away from their village. (Actually I do this on the weekends sometimes too, and drag along a truck bed full of village school kids so they can see and experience and learn something about the cultural and archaeological sites in their area. It's amazing to watch them, and equally amazing how many kids a few hundred baht can feed at the noodle shop after. It's fun!)

 

So off we went into the wilds of Isaan to explore. Good ol' Carl Perkins woulda been proud of me, if he was still alive.

 

We took the info I had gathered, along with the directions and locations of these ruins, and planned out a driving loop around the area which would let us stop and see all the places as we road out of the village and circled back home later.

 

We saw a few nice ruins, one that has been rehabbed and was very beautiful and well preserved with a nice pond on the property filled with lovely water flowers and huge carp. I wished I had my fishing rod with me. We stopped and ate some delicious food while searching for one small very old ruin which is on the property of a new Wat. The monks caretake the ruin. It was a bit difficult to find, and even though we asked about thirty fucking people along the way, none of them gave the right directions.

 

Basically we just stumbled onto the place while the falang driver, me, used his acute directional location abilities. I'm surprised a Thai can find his own ass to wipe it sometimes. They are absolutely horrible at giving directions, and maps are a totally alien concept it seems, drawn up by foolish farangs, and only meant to confuse.

 

Actually I drove past the friggin' place three times. Right there, in huge gold lettering on a white-washed cement wall, were words in Thai. Wat Somefuckingthingoranother. Finally I pulled up to this place, I knew this had to be the place, but each time we drove by it wife and Sis said not a word. I pointed out the scribbling gibberish on this wall to them, and pointedly asked the wife, "Can you read Thai?" She grins at me, oblivious to my farang sarcasm, and says, "Yes, can." I press on. "Do you need glasses darling? You see okay?" I fairly growl. "Huh? Sure. See okay no problum." she smiles back at my loving concern for her well being. This ascertained and spoken I asked her, "Can you please read what is written on this wall and tell me what it says?" She peers out her window, reads the wall, exclaims in Lao to Sis, and they both start laughing and howling like hyenas. "Hahahahahahahahahaha! Not see! This is Wat! Hahahahahahahaha!" she chortles, amazed that she hadn't seen it the last three fucking times we passed it, at about maybe 5 kph I'd like to add.

 

My blood pressure rises, my face hardens, I silently vow to myself not to strangle the both of them, nor the next Thai person that gives me wrong directions who doesn't know where the fuck the place I'm asking for is, yet to save face has to make something up. A lifetime spent in a nasty Thai monkey house just isn't worth the satisfaction this would obviously give me at this moment.

 

I know now why Burma and Cambodia attacked the Thais all the time. They could invade and pillage and plunder all they liked, and then just go back home, secure in the knowledge that the Thais would not be able to punish them for their transgressions, because, the Thais could never FIND Burma or Cambodia!!!!

 

Arrrrrrrrrrrrggggggghhhhhh!!!!

 

I sat and boiled in my frustration while they giggled like maniacs at this oh so goddamned funny stuff. I glared at the wife, and in my best Ralph Cramden HoneyMooners imitation said, roared actually, "One of these days Alice! One of these days! POW!! TO THE MOON!!!!!!"

 

She looked puzzled at me and said, "What you say darling? You angly me?" Sigh. I still can't remain angry at her once she does this. It's so damned cute really. I sigh, a big sigh, smile at her and say, "No darling. I'm not angry with you. Just falang joke. No problem. Mai pen lai. Let's go see the ruins. And next time we're in Surin I'm taking you to the damned eye doctor's and get your blind ass checked out woman."

 

I backed up to the driveway entrance, pulled into the Wat, and found the parking area behind it.

 

--------------------------------------

 

"Among the blind the one-eyed is a king."

 

Proverb

 

---------------------------------------

 

                    Part 6

 

As I drove into the parking area behind the newer Wat I glanced about, looking for a shaded area to park the truck, so as not to fry my nuts once re-entering and sitting on the plastic seat, after the searing sun has heated it to a temperature only a bit lower than the surface of said sun. I pulled in under a large old tree which seemed to provide the best shade in the lot.

 

I noticed as I parked the truck an older Thai man and lady, likely his wife it looked to me, sitting in the shade at a picnic type table under a smaller tree nearby. Spotting the farang, me, they started chattering away, sorta like Meer Cats spreading the alarm that danger was in the area, and I noticed a young boy come running over to them. I guess for protection, in case the farang turned out to be some sort of threat to their precious progeny.

 

No need to fear good and gentle people! It is but I, Cent, that harmless wacky farang from Happy Village down the road a ways. Calm yourselves, and enjoy my alarmingly funny and crazy antics as I try to break my legs while shooting lengthy video footage of yonder pile of ancient rubble. No need to get yourselves into a tizzy. Sit back and enjoy the show.

 

Sis and wife climbed out of the truck along with me, showing the Thai family that I was a tame farang, and under the control of my expert Thai "falang handlers". This calmed their fears somewhat, and Sis and wife exchanged sawadee's with them. I chucked in a "Hello, how are ya?" and a "Sawadee krup." for good measure. This caused the little boy's eyes to widen.

 

What the heck? A Great White Ape that can actually speak Thai? Wow! Wait 'till I tell my pals this one! Yeah kid, Thailand truly is amazing ain't it? All sorts of wonderful and exotic animals can be seen huh? You have a flaming hoop of real fire I can jump through for ya maybe? I'm trained to perform all sorts of neat and amusing tricks. Nice little family. Cute kid.

 

I stood there and looked about me as the wife and Sis chattered away to the mother and father of the kid.

Probably telling them both that they were taking me out and about to see the sights, sites, and culture of Isaan, when the whole freakin' thing was my idea to begin with. I've noticed Thais are want to take credit for things happening, and ideas not their own originally really, and love to show off their pet farang.

 

I am a strapping hansum example of walking ATM to be sure, and a fine specimen, of which they seem truly proud to own most times when I'm on my best behaviour. They do seem a bit quick to disown me though when I act up and get a bit too uppity for a falang. Usually when I am somehow incurring the wrath of Buddha in my ignorance this is. Hey, their own fault really, not mine. They are supposed to be my trainers ain't they? I'm not stupid, and pick things up pretty quickly, but if they don't teach it to me how the fuck am I supposed to know?

 

But, I am fairly well trained, and only crap on the carpets rarely when left alone too long. It's all that damned rice they feed me, you see? I'd have better control if they'd only feed me a little rice and peppers, and more of my natural kibble and bits that my system is better adapted to digest. I need more meat and potatoes.

After all, I am an exotic creature and need a special diet if they want me at my optimal health and disposition. I must say though that they hardly ever beat me, and keep me very well groomed. I've not had a reason to try to escape.......yet.

 

They do keep a close eye and short leash on me in Pattaya though. Even they know this falang beast is always in heat and will likely mate at the drop of a skirt.....errrr.....hat I mean.

 

All of a sudden something small and hairy jumped down from the tree above the family's heads and landed on the little kid's shoulders. The wife and Sis started screaming so loudly they scared the Jumping Blue Jesus out of me!!! I nearly shit myself! "Jesus Christ wimmin! What the hell are you screaming about? It's only a baby monkey for God's sake! Look. Baby ling, that's all. Looks like the kid's pet." I grumped, as I checked to see if blood was running out my punctured eardrums by fingering my ear holes.

 

I guess they thought the little bugger was attacking the boy or something. "And what the hell are you hiding behind me for?" I said, as I noticed they were both standing behind me and peeking around me at the boy and his pet monkey. There was no blood dripping from my ear canals, so I had a good chance of at least regaining partial hearing within a week or so. You would have thought the kid had been attacked by a King Cobra by the way they were acting and quivering in fear.

 

I left them, shaking in their foolish boots, and walked over to where the kid stood with the baby monkey on his shoulder. Wife and Sis started chattering to me to "be careful" and other such nonsense. The kid smiled at me and I reached my hand out to his pet monkey, not touching it, just letting it smell my hand and see that I was no threat to him. The little guy reached out with his little human-like hands and touched my outstreched hand. Cool. His hands were cool to the touch.

 

I noticed his tiny fingernails, and was fascinated how much they looked like a human baby's. He then climbed down the kid's shoulder and jumped onto my arm and ran up onto my own shoulder and sat there. This elicited some more warning chatter from my ladies. Excitable wenches. I ignored them, pleased with myself and that this lttle ling showed no fear of me, and seemed quite content to sit on my shoulder.

 

The little ling started touching my hair and my ears. It tickled. I stood there and grinned a satisfied foolish grin and told my wife to come take the video camera from me and film the monkey sitting on my shoulder. This would be sure to be a hit when the kids watching the video tape later tonight saw this! The wife was reluctant to approach me until I gave her a stern look and said, "Oh fer chrissakes just come over here and take the damn camera you little baby!" She timidly approached me and grabbed the video camera out of my hand as I held it toward her, and then quickly scurried away and handed the camra to Sis to film me. Sis is the camera expert in the family, when I'm not there anyway.

 

As Sis prepared the camera to film this communion with nature of mine the little bastard tried to grab my 100 baht fake Oakley sunglasses from my head, where I had placed them when exiting the truck. I grabbed them back quickly from him, or her, I had no idea really which, knowing there'd be hell to pay with my eyes without them for driving, as the way home would be facing west most of the time, and the sun would be directly in my eyes as I was driving. No, no, little ling. You can't have that. Give 'em back to Cent like a good ling. They won't fit you anyway. I chuckled at the thought of a little monkey wearing shades. An amusing thought. I put the sunglasses in my pants pocket to keep them out of the monkey's reach.

 

I looked up at Sis and said,"C'mon. Take some video will ya." The monkey then made a grab for my reading glasses, which were hung by one arm folded from my shirt front top button hole, in case I needed to read something small while out and about. I quickly foiled this attempted thievery by placing my hand over the glasses as he tugged them up. I guess this was just a distracting gambit, because as soon as my hand covered the glasses the little prick grabbed my pack of Winston's right out of my shirt pocket, leaped from my shoulder to the kid's shoulders, and then jumped straight up into the branches of the tree above and clambered up into the foliage!

 

"Hey! Come back here with those you little thievin' son of a bitch!!" I yelped. The furry little mafia bitch was as quick as greased lightning! All the Thais laughed at this. Shit. That was the only pack of my smokes I had with me. If I didn't get them back I'd have to smoke Sis' Spring Rain shit Thai cigarettes all the way back home. Dammit! No way! That monkey had made a monkey outa me!

I walked over to the tree and stood beneath its branches as I peered up to find the fucker.

 

There he was, sitting up on a branch, pulling out ciggies from the pack. Dexterious bastard. A few mutilated Winston's fell from up above onto the ground. "Hey! Don't break 'em all you little shit!" I yelled up at him. He pulled a couple more from the pack, and began EATING them. "Yeah, go ahead stupid, eat them! You're gonna get sick as a dog you dope!" I gleefully told the munchkin furbag above as he chewed away on my smokes. The Thais were all laughing at my agitated conversation with the ling. "Hahaha. Doesn't the falang know the monkey doesn't understand what he's saying?" Yeah sure. Fuck you he doesn't understand. He knows what he's doing just as well as my Angel this morning brushing her hair knew what she was doing.

 

As I was peering up into the tree I noticed the branch he was sitting on and chowing down on my butts was attached to another larger branch, one which lead down to the trunk of the tree, and one which I could easily reach. Using my Higher Ape greater intellect I devised a plan to reclaim my stolen cigarettes from this lowly monkey baby.

 

I reached slowly toward the connecting branch within my reach, so as not to frighten the crafty little shit higher up the tree, and, once my hands were firmly around the branch, I braced my feet and gave the tree a mighty shaking! The ling gave a cry of alarm and scampered higher into the tree, but he was so frightened he lost his grip on my smokes and they slowly bounced from limb to limb as they fell toward the earth below. Ha! My plan had worked! Haha! I actually caught the smokes as they fell down to me.

 

I opened the pack and looked inside. The little shit had eaten half of the damn things. I hoped he'd be up all night puking his balls off. I stuck my ciggies in my pants pocket, just in case the ling tried another sneak attack, and turned to acknowledge the applause from Sis and wife at my success at retrieving my smokes. Yes, I'm a clever fellow aren't I?! Thank you, thank you. Just throw money please. Applause is so cheap you know.

 

We bade the family and monkey goodbye, and went to check out the ruins. I managed to get some video of the place, only incurring a minor scrape on my shin. Mission accomplished!

 

Sis and wife entered the newer Wat and did their Buddhist duties while I sat outside and had a smoke. After we went to another noodle shop, where they had some spicy sour kind of soup which I found not to my taste. I ordered a beer Chang and drank that while they ate. I planned on stopping at Makro and buying some delicacies to cook up on the new charcoal grills. We'd also stop to grab some sticky rice and Papaya Bok Bok, and some Pad Thai and other treats to round out the meal.

 

We paid up and jumped into the truck and headed back home toward the village. All in all an interesting afternoon it was.

 

Stopping at Makro later I found that we could buy a kilo of extra large/jumbo live shrimp for 100 baht a kilo I think it was. 100 baht a kilo? Isn't a kilo 2.2 POUNDS? Like USD $2.50 for 2.2 pounds of fresh live shrimp!!! Wow! Here in the states these are practically worth their weight in gold! I bought 2 kilos. Feast time tonight!!

 

I also bought a few pounds of small chicken wings and legs, and a Thai sweet spicy dipping sauce I have had before with SukiYaki that Sis had told me I could buy by the large bottle in Makro. I planned on using this as a baste/BBQ sauce/marinade for the chicken. An experiment I had planned. I also grabbed some thick sliced pork strips to experiment with too on the barbeque. Score!

 

I had a box of beer Changs in the fridge, a half a fifth of a nice 150 proof 20 year old single malt whiskey at the house I'd gotten as a present from a friend, stashed in a locked closet so the old biddies couldn't swipe and drink it, and strict rules of death by slow torture if anybody ever drank it on me when I wasn't there. Jing jing! (It's true!) And plenty of extra beer Chang that could be easily purchased from Sis 2's now re-supplied shop, along with some Lao Kao for those with less discriminating tastes.

 

Yep, things were looking up for a nice party and BBQ at the old homestead tonight! Party time!

 

------------------------------------

 

"Catch, then, O catch the transient hour;

Improve each moment as it flies;

Life's a short Summer, man a flower;

He dies, ---------alas! How soon he dies!"

 

Samuel Johnson, Winter

 

---------------------------------------

 

                     Part 7

 

Once we were back to the house I took the chicken I had bought, grabbed the bottle of the sweet spicy Sukiyaki sauce, and threw it all together in a plastic bag to marinate for a while in the reefer. I was interested to see, and taste, how this experiment in fine BBQ cuisine would work and come out on the new charcoal grills. I put some of the pork strips in another bag and sauced them up too. Then I grabbed a beer and headed for the shower to wash away the grime of the day.

 

Sis and wife were yakking up to everyone, kids, adults, neighbors, and anyone else who would listen, about my adventures with the baby monkey. Film at 11. At Sis 2's shop next door there is a small tv set, a focal point on most night's for the gossiping harridans as they sit about and suck down a few drinks and chatter away. The finest films shown on the old vcr attached, the ones truly loved by one and all in the village, and guaranteed to attract virtually anyone walking, or even driving, by to stop and watch, are the Morlam song, dance, and comedy shows.

 

The Thais can watch these tapes over and over, and still roar with laughter at the jokes, and skits, and pratfalls, as though it is the first time they've ever seen this. It's a truly amazing thing to see. The laughter becomes contagious. It's as though you are in a classroom full of children, all giggling over something foolish, yet none able to stop laughing, and once it stops one late giggle from someone will start it all over again.

 

It's simple humor, gags and bits and slapstick from a bygone era in the west, still loved in rural Isaan. It's the Thai Isaan Laurel and Hardy, meets Abbot and Costello, meets The Three Stooges, with bawdy songs done ala the Marx Brothers. Serious music and songs and singing mixed with much humor and comedy. To sit among them and hear their merriment and glee while watching these shows is an experience. A relaxing happy one, guaranteed to lift your spirits. A trip back to your childhood, when laughter was fun, not just a physical reaction, but a game in and of itself, and easily brought forth, just for the sake of laughing, and nearly anything thought riotously funny. You can't help but smile and laugh along with them, even if you have no idea of what the hell was said sometimes. The comedy is very visual, and a lot of it transcends language.

 

I managed to see a live Morlam show this past trip. A big outdoor concert at night in a huge field outside the village, under the lights on a giant stage, filled with tons of lovely dancing girls. I'll write about it another time. It was a night that I'll remember until the Alzheimers kicks in.

 

I finished my shower and jumped into some clean comfortable clothing, grabbing another beer I headed out through the back screen door to back where Sis and wife were washing foodstuffs, and preparing rice and noodles for cooking. Mama was there. Along with her sis, old auntie, with the wrinkled monkey face, one of my favorite women in the village, and family. She's a character, and always good for a laugh. A happy soul she.

 

They both come over to me and we exchange pleasantries, while they cop a few feels of farang meat. These old women are always touching me, stroking my arms, playing with my arm hairs, which seems to amaze them no end. I was their first farang, and they always inquire as to my wife and her Sis's care of this fine exotic man creature.

 

These old girls are "old school", and will always chastise the younger women if they think I'm not being properly cared for and fed and watered. They know how a man, a husband, is supposed to be taken care of, and they make sure the young gals know it. Man, you should see them lay into my wife if they think she's not doing her proper wifely duties as she was taught since a wee lass. She'll grumble a bit and toss out the occasional retort, but she jumps when they get on her.

 

As far as I'm concerned they've done a fine job with her, my wife, even though she can be a feisty wench sometimes. (Which I like, most times.) Momma and old Auntie are my staunchest allies. (Even though Mama at first wanted to carve me up with a butcher knife due to some imagined loss of face the first time I went to meet her.) Now she loves me too much.

 

I love her and Auntie too! They're my ladies! I grabbed the new charcoal grill we bought for Mama and presented it to her. She was all smiles, wai's, and kup khun ka's. I was stroked some more by both the old lasses and cackled over. I wish I could understand what the hell they are saying sometimes, but even if my Thai was better, well, they're speaking Lao anyway, and that around a mouthful of betel nut chew besides.

 

They wander off over to Sis 2's shop after a while, clutching a couple of glasses, and an ice cold beer Chang they accepted gratefully when offered by me. Don't listen to the Puritans ....bribery will get you everything you desire!

 

I went over to Sis and my wife to watch their culinary preparations. I learn something new from them every time I take the time to watch and ask pertinent questions. One of these days I'll be a fine chef of Isaan cuisine myself. I'll open a nice restaurant on Newbury street in Boston one day. "Mike's Isaan Restaurant and Fine Noodle Shop".....good eats cheap. Haha!

 

--------------------------------

 

"Laugh while you can. Everything has its time."

 

Voltaire

 

---------------------------------

 

                     Part 8

 

After a while I left the ladies to their chores and pulled the truck into the yard, close to the hose that is attached to the well pump. I took a rag and some dish detergent and gave the truck a quick wash. I used the funky broom from the kitchen to sweep out the gathered red mud and dust from the passenger compartment, and swept out the bed of the truck.....the other passenger compartment.

 

I grabbed some Windex and paper towels and did the windshield, wiping down the dashboard and inside door panels and such. I try to take care of the vehicles I rent or borrow while there, and usually return them to the owner in better condition than I received them. I nearly always need to buy a new cloth padded steering wheel cover each time, as the old ones are so filthy and saturated with red dust that just touching them dirties your hands every time you drive, and a new one is so cheap I just buy a new one for my use and toss the old one out.

 

I also keep an eye on the condition of the oil, and if dirty and black I'll take the truck to the shop in the Makro lot and have them do a quick oil change while we shop for groceries. The first time I did this, when I came back to get the truck, I just had a sneaking suspicion, noticing a sneaky grin on one mechanics face, and checked the oil with the stick before paying for the oil change, and looked at the oil filter to see if it was new. Fuckers think all farangs are stupid or something. The oil filter was new, but the oil was still black!!! I think the pricks just slapped a new filter on, and then topped off the old oil with a pint or two of fresh oil. Stupid assholes. Sorry, but falang not pay until you morons CHANGE THE FUCKING OIL!!

 

Wife and Sis were bullshit with these guys once I clued them into this scam, and read the idiots the riot act.

 

Sheepish grins and apologies, oil changed while we waited, and now they know this farang is hip to these scams, and not as stupid as he looks. Idiots think they are cute, like farangs don't pull this shit where we come from, and we know nothing about this shit, or about hanging the gas pumps with a few cents still on the meter, and filling washer fluid bottles with a bit of the blue stuff and mostly water, and other money making tricks pulled by low paid gas station attendants to make a few extra bucks off the unsuspecting and ignorant drivers of the world. I hate being cheated.

 

I knew a jerk in the states who used to pile some empty oil cans in his oil can rack, and when asked to check a woman customer's engine oil, would swipe a finger on the oil stick, pushing the level down a quart, show the stick to the woman and tell her she was down a quart, then take an empty oil can from the rack, insert the oil nozzle in the already empty can and go through the motions as having put oil in the engine. Made a few bucks a day doing this and pocketed the monies gained for buying his beer every night. It was a busy gas station, and I'll bet he did this 10 times or more a day. He also used to put a gallon of gas in a gas can from one pump, then hang the pump up without resetting the meter. When a customer pulled up to the pump he'd block their view of the meter as he pumped their gas and they would be paying for the gallon he put in the can. Five times done a day and he'd have a five gallon can filled with gas others had paid for, which he'd put in his car at the end of the night. I told you he was a jerk. He owned the station by the way, and was a truly cheap Charlie asshole. I learned all the scams working for this mutt one summer when a kid. I know them all.

 

One trick is to just clean the old oil filter off and pass it off as a new one, without ever even removing it from the engine block. (Or draining and cleaning off an old filter and passing it off as a new one when you install it.) You pay for the new filter, they just left the old one on and put in some new oil. A few times done a day to a few unsuspecting customers and they can make their beer drinking money for the night doing this. How to ensure this doesn't happen? Well, before going to the shop take a coin and reach down under the hood and scratch the filter somehow. (I usually make an X, so it can't be said to just be a scratch from installing the supposedly "new" filter.) Then show wife and explain to her what you did. When you pick up the vehicle pop the hood and look on the supposedly "new" filter for said scratch. And always check the supposedly new oil by using the dip stick before paying and driving away.

 

Believe me, those who don't check this type of stuff have probably paid a few times for oil and filter changes that were never even done. Happens in shops more often then you would probably think, especially to women customers who have no clue. Don't let these little pricks get away with this stuff.

 

Due to the fact that the front of our village house is all glass I usually have plenty of paper towels and Windex on hand, buy it in bulk actually, truth be told.

There seems to be a little gremlin that keeps putting her little fingerprints on all the damned glass at the front of the house. This gremlin is a furtive creature though, and I've never caught the little rascal in the act. I need a fingerprint ID kit I think to finally catch the culprit. No one owns up to being the sticky fingered varmint who keeps putting their hands all over the goddamned windows. Look sow (daughter) is my prime suspect, though I suspect she may have accomplices. Damned fingerprint window smearing Mafia.

 

Once finished cleaning the truck I parked it back on the street and went to grab a fresh beer from the fridge.

Wife and Sis were ready to fire up the new charcoal grills, having prepared the accompanying foodstuffs and side dishes for the meats and seafood to be grilled. I went and jumped in the shower to quickly rinse off the sweat accumulated during the truck cleaning. Once finished and no longer a smelly farang, fresh again as the proverbial daisy, I went outside in the darkening evening, taking with me the marinated chicken and pork from the reefer, and another fresh cold beer.

 

Time get this BBQ fired up!! I'm starving!

 

(to be continued)

 

 

Cent

(The Central Scrutinizer)

 

--------------------------------

 

"If a man deceive me once, shame on him; if twice, shame on me."

 

Proverb

----------------------------------

 

[Guest]

Fine exotic man creature:

 

Still some of my favourites.

 

When's the noodle shop opening in Boston, and when is the Morlam story coming?

 

Handy

 

[Central Scrutinizer]

Handy,

 

Hahahaha! No, the Boston noodle shop is a joke! Don't wanna go down that route.

 

Thanks for reminding me. You're right, of course. The morlam concert story should be done next in the village series.

 

Glad you enjoyed the story. (Even as a reread! The last two parts....9 & 10 were new.) Thanks for telling me so. Guys like you always encourage me to write more, so you have only yourself to blame. :-)

 

Cent

A fine exotic man creature