Manhater

Goy hated men. I know she hated men because she told me in no uncertain terms “I hate men.” Well…What she actually said was “I hais men” but I don’t like to bother over such details much.

I asked her why she hated men after an evening of strenuous activity and she replied “Because you lie. You don’t care about anyone but yourself. You drink too much. You beat up your wife. You like to fuck around.”

“All excellent points.”

“And if you have man who think him good man all the time him always very fat or weak or ugly or stupid. Him only good man because him not strong enough to be bad.”

Goy laughed through her nose and too a lug on the bottle of Mekong we were sharing.

“So what you’re saying is that men are all bad and if they’re not it’s because there’s something wrong with them.”

“Yes.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

She smiled at her victory and slid over to kiss me on the mouth with her cool alcoholic lips.

Goy had a lean strong body so covered with scars from various fights that when the light hit her a certain way she looked like a road map of Thailand. She loved her scars, each one was an erogenous road which, if you traced it with your tongue, caused soft moans to slip from her throat. It was as if her wounds patched into the deepest part of her. She once told me that when she was in a fight was when she most knew she was alive and to touch those scars was to tap into her life.

She passed me the bottle and while I took a drink she plunged her mouth over my chest and bit me.

“Ow fuck.” I said.

She laughed. “Man saay… You know?”

“Yeah you think I’m disgusting.”

“Yes… Disgusting. Same I want to kill you you know?”

“Yeah. I know.”

Goy’s temper could flick from amiable and sexy to psychotic rage in less time than it takes to dial 191 and I was suddenly very aware of how many sharp and potentially lethal objects were within easy reach if she suddenly kicked off.

One time, one of the first times I went with her, I had a minor erectile malfunction. Too many late nights, too much whisky, who knows why. Thing is Goy took immediate offence. She flicked at it and said “What’s this?” I shrugged and she leapt on top of me with eyes wild like a mad dog and she started strangling me. At first she had me pinioned to the bed and my reactions were slow within a second or two I could feel the blood pounding in my ears and feel my windpipe cut off. Suddenly aware that there was serious power in her fingers I got a bit of leverage and threw her off swallowing to make sure there was no permanent damage. The odd thing was that not only was the erectile malfunction completely cured I was aroused to a ridiculous degree. Goy had this self satisfied look on her face with one eyebrow raised as if to say “You see… I know exactly what to do about these things.” I was simply too wound up to complain about this and what followed was one of the finest hours of my life.

Back in the present Goy stared at the ceiling for a moment caressing the lip of the bottle… “Turk?”

“Yeah.”

“You have woman?”

“No.”

Her face screwed up. “Tawlae. I know you have everywhere.”

“I thought you meant one woman. You know. Like a wife… Madame.”

“Hah… No… You never have. No woman want marry with you Turk. You only good for short time.”

“That is true.”

“Why? You want?”

“No.”

“You don’t want wife?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I hate women. You frighten me.”

“You scare women?”

“Why not. You’re crazy as fuck.”

She laughed a musical laugh. “Not all women same me.”

“Yeah I know.” I turned and followed a long scar that ran down her side to her hip bone “But you’re kind that interests me.”

“Then you very stupid farang.”

She pulled herself over me and feeling the weight of her body on me and the pressure of  her sharp little teeth biting my neck I honestly couldn’t think of a better way to die than as some sacrifice to Goy’s misandry.

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