Not exactly the first time I find myself back in the lobby of the New Star Guest House with baby Jacky in my arms, baby-sitting this little Leuk Kreung infant while Miss Fohn - his Mum - is out and about with some Farangs, making the dough on her back in some sleazy hotel room, helping out some young Englsih blokes in desperate need of Thai s*x after an all night boozing enterprise...
Luckily for me Jacky went to blissfull baby sleep soon after I sang him Jan Klaassen was trompetter, the only song I know by heart, so I can dwell on my last visit to Thailand's capital, my little social visit to Nong while Per, her Norwegian sugar daddy was off to Chiang Mai on a motorbike tour with his Pensionaer friends, hoping for a night free of charge in their expensive Sangria-La Hotel suite where I happen to know his stash of fine Cuban sigars and the location of his equally tatsty Regency whisky.
Back on the motorbike taxi in Bangkok's notorious traffic jam from Ekamai Eastern Bus Termanal when my phone warns me of an incoming text message MEET ME AT NANA'S, ha, we just pass Nana's and with years of experience I text back OKAY with one hand while hanging on for dear life to the motorbike with my other hand, giving the toothless driver the full fare though Nana is ony a mere five minutes from Ekamai, in the very heart of Sukumvit District, the rauchiest and sleaziest tourist area in all of Bangkok.
Everybody and everything lives and propers here, middle class Hindu males holding hands and giggling nervously while checking out the numerous GO-Go bars, huge arabs from Saudi Arabia dressed in white-colored long Djalebbas, their wives strolling the obligatory few paces behind, their faces covered with the Chador, Muslims from the south and middle-aged Farangs holding hands with Thai Hot Mommas from the Isan Sisterhood, a few Sikhs on an improbably quest for the right bars.
Nana's covered with cooked-food stalls mostly manned by Isan farmers still longingly remembering their rice paddies up north but by now having black lungs due to Bangkok\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\'s incredible air polution and the inevitable nictine addiction.
It is still too early for the real meals to be prepared but snacks on sticks are numerous with pork meat balls, barbequed chicken legs, dough balls and squid, pieces of water melon, cat fish and satay, all can be eaten from a bamboo stick, good starters for the main dishes later during the night.
I take a seat at one of the iron tables ordering fried cat fish and a Chang beer to wash it down while amuzing myself eavesdropping on the heated conversation of two Kathoys at the next table, wheter or not get the operation, wether or not the org*smic experiences will still be there after the op, wether Farangs like Kathoys more with their male tools still intact or maybe not, what hormone pills to take to get bigger b*obs.
This is definitely gonna be fun waiting for Nong to arrive. In my head I already have it all worked out for my blog when all of a sudden I am called back to present time with Baby Jacky loudly proclaiming his thirst for baby milk and the receptionist ladies smiling at me benevolently while I perform paternal duties that are not mine to perform...will habve to get back to this story later.
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