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EXPIRY DATE - a little escapism

changnoi

By changnoi,
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changnoi

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Expiry Date

 

"? and Lucy's coming down for the weekend with two of her college friends so we'll need more milk? try and remember to get some on the way home? I'll be late tonight so I'll take the car if that's OK? Roger wants me to go over the new proposal with him so don't wait up? there's only cold ham in the fridge I'm afraid, but I suppose you can get a takeaway if you fancy something spicy. Are you listening, George ?"

 

George Dobson looked up from his Telegraph. "Yes dear, Lucy's friends tomorrow and you'll be late tonight." Lucy's friends: he found himself wondering if the cute Chinese one would be with them. He was old enough to be her father of course; maybe he was becoming a dirty old man ? No, on reflection he realised that he had always been like that. In fact when he thought about it he realised he had been quite a dirty young man?

 

"? so don't forget" She scooped up the keys from the kitchen table and headed for the door. "Honestly George, sometimes I think you married me just so I would take care of you."

 

Take care of you. Now where had he heard that before ?

 

*****

The train to Charing Cross was on time (that is, late as predicted), overcrowded and dirty. He managed to get half a seat next to a gargantuan woman who was guzzling on Diet Coke and a low fat chocolate bar, and spent the journey trying not to lean against her in case it set off her rape alarm. He scanned the weather in his paper. 34C and cloudy. It was always cloudy of course. As he walked out of the station he spotted two Japanese backpackers, obviously trying to enjoy their trip, in spite of the cold. He thought one of them looked a bit like Mai Hagiwara.

 

Once he was at his desk he checked his email, nothing of interest there. On his list of jobs outstanding all of the remaining items were marked highest priority and lowest importance. He opened another window in his browser and logged in. A quick look at General - a thread entitled "Would you live in LOS ?" had 97 posts. In Nightlife there was a lot about a new bar called Mickey's that had just opened on Cowboy. Apparently the girls wore mouse ears and small tails. Surely the Disney Corporation would have something to say about this ? But TIT he thought, no ploblem with copyright laws. In any case he had no idea as to when he would be able to check it out for himself, it might be closed by the time he next had an excuse to visit that part of the world. It already felt like a very long time since he was there and last saw Pookie. He would never forget her, he thought. Or Noi, Nok, Am, Mae, Mai, Miao, Da, Pla, Pa or Pla (there had been two Plas, as he recalled, or maybe it was just one twice).

 

Suddenly he sensed something dark looming over him. "Have you got the stats on the HRT drug trial yet George ?"

 

"Not quite," he croaked, scrabbling to minimise the window, "I should have them by Monday morning."

 

He swivelled his chair towards her and added, "I'll stay late if necessary". So Ms Whiplash has had her hair cut again he thought. Shorter. They might have trimmed the moustache while they were at it.

 

"Excellent, " she said, showing her teeth "Central have already asked twice, so I'll expect a printed copy on my desk first thing tomorrow - I'll be working saturday."

 

Even before she had moved away he regretted committing himself. George sighed as he closed the browser and opened up a spreadsheet.

 

*****

It was 5.30 and he was alone in the office: it was friday after all, and everyone else had knocked-off early for the weekend. At least he'd got that damned report done. He clicked on print and leaned back to stretch.

 

Half way down the third page the printer cut out abruptly. The screen flagged a 'printer out of ink' warning: just his luck. George checked the cartridge and retrieved the keys for the store room from behind the desk at reception, lifted his jacket and headed downstairs. He'd never been down here before, and wasn't quite sure of the way. After two short flights and a long unlit corridor he came to a locked door. It felt strangely warm - the boilers he supposed, and he could hear the roar of distant traffic. After several attempts he found the right key and the door creaked open. Once again he ran his hand along the wall unsuccessfully searching for a light switch. It was very hot however. After a few cautious steps forward he found a second door with a large key on the inside. This had to be it. He turned the key and pulled it from the lock as he pushed the door open.

 

*****

He stepped out into the baking heat of a concreted basement area. A young girl stood at a payphone with her back towards him, there was no one else around. Instinctively he locked the door he had just exited and headed along a short concrete walkway towards the traffic noise outside. It all felt strangely familiar, like a favourite dream. As he emerged from the building he realised the sky was pitch black. All at once he saw the busy throng, the sizzling pad thai stalls, the tuk-tuks, the fruit vendors outside Foodland. Then a passing girl who had stopped to tidy her cascading brown hair turned and smiled at him, and he understood.

 

George was in Bangkok, Sukhumvit soi five, to be exact.

 

Almost on auto-pilot, he stepped into the air conditioned supermarket to escape the shock of the change in temperature. As he wandered along the quiet toiletries aisle, pretending to study the shampoos, he reflected on what appeared to have happened to him. Perhaps he had died - a heart attack from overwork - and had been sent to this place as a reward for having lived a saintly life. Not very likely. Perhaps he had gone mad from living in London in the 21st century, and this experience was a hallucination resulting from a powerful new medication. More likely, but if so, it was good stuff. Most likely of all, perhaps he was just a figment in a nightmare that his boss Ms Whiplash was having, and it would all end when she woke up.

 

Then it struck him that perhaps the question wasn't important. He lifted a bottle of Lipo and realised just before he reached the checkout that he had no Baht. Thank God for ATMs. He drew 3000 Baht near the corner of soi 3 and hailed a taxi for Cowboy.

 

*****

Cowboy was its old self: tacky neon, friendly girls. He bought a 10 Baht kebab and walked the gauntlet of the cheerful hello girls. So many bars, but it was late (seven hours later than his watch read). About half way up opposite After School he saw the place he was looking for. A cluster of girls wearing large felt ears and red mini-dresses with white polka dots screamed as they dragged him over to the door of the new bar.

 

Once inside he dropped into a plush booth set back from the stage, and a waitress with a Donald Duck t-shirt and a goofy grin took his order for a Kloster. The décor, as he had expected, was fresh and more than a little eccentric. The main stage was modelled on a giant mousetrap and several cuties with big ears and furry tails were swinging from the spring mechanism, while another was gyrating on top of an enormous wedge of cheese. The possibility that he was somehow in a dream crossed his mind for the second time.

 

Just as his beer arrived he was hugged from behind by a dancer with a small black ball on the end of her nose. "Max ! Max ! sawat-dee kaaah - you not remember me ?"

 

Confused at first George eventually recognised the name he had previously used, and consequently who she was. "Pookie, how are you, I never forget you".

 

She pointed to the black ball. "I change nose, same same farang. You like ?"

 

He laughed.

 

"I change nose, I change bar - Mickey's No.1 - When you come Bangkok ?

 

"Uh, today,

 

"How long you stay ?

 

"Err, I don't know exactly" Probably two hours, he thought.

 

"You pay bar me ? Where your hotel ?

 

He thought quickly. The answers were "Yes" and "we go short-time hotel".

 

Ten minutes later she was snuggling up against him in a taxi headed for soi 3. George found himself thinking about Ms Whiplash. "Please don't wake up just yet", he entreated under his breath.

 

When they walked into the Playboy the man at reception didn't even raise an eyebrow, in spite of the fact that Pookie hadn't taken off her false ears or nose.

 

*****

George looked at his watch, it read 8.45pm. Of course it was nearly 4am local time. Thank God again for 24 hour shopping. He waved Pookie off in a taxi and popped into a 7/11 for a carton of milk. Now everyone would be happy, if he managed to get back.

 

He slipped into the entrance below the Thai House II. There was no one about. He tried the key in the door: no problem. Locking it behind him he felt his way along the corridor , reassured that it was getting progressively colder. Once upstairs he switched everything off and said goodnight to security as he left the building. The train home was unusually punctual and uncrowded.

 

*****

 

When George woke at 8am it was back to reality with a crash. He had difficulty in disentangling the Bangkok dream from the actual events of the night before. Had he really forgotten to print out the report ? Ms Whiplash was going to be seriously unpleasant on monday. Still, he reflected, she always was.

 

He went down to the kitchen and found that his wife was already up, fixing breakfast for the weekend guests.

 

"Oh good morning darling? you were dead last night so I didn't bother waking you, although you were talking a lot in your sleep, in fact you seemed quite agitated?. you weren't eating cheese late at night again, were you ?" She opened the fridge.

 

"?I see you didn't touch the ham. Did you end up having something spicy ?"

 

His was still dazed and confused. "Err, yes dear, uh, maybe? I don't know, I mean, I don't remember "

 

"Don't remember ? If I didn't know you better, George, I'd assume you'd been drinking? as a matter of fact I had a glass of champagne last night with Roger to celebrate - we got the contract. It will mean that I'll be away a lot more of course. George, aren't you pleased for me ?"

 

This was more like what he had come to expect, he thought, this was reality. Before he could answer, Lucy came through from the breakfast room. She was laughing with her friends.

 

"Dad, I don't know where you got this milk, but the expiry date is December 2545".

 

"Probably just a misprint dear," he replied, catching the carton from her, "But you had better not have any more just in case. I'll take this back to the shop and get them to replace it while I'm out today."

 

He turned to his wife. "I have to go in to the office now anyway - I promised the boss that I'd help her finish an important proposal this weekend. I told her you would understand, dear".

 

What I need now, he thought, is a soapy.

 

 

 

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