Surin, the Simple Life

The days flow past in a lazy and tranquil repose. We wake early and share the chores. Although it has taken a while for her to get used to a man helping about, she now seems okay with a little help here and there. I hope I've not spoiled the woman, my new wife. Pails of water are heated on the kitchen gas flame ring for our 'hot showers', which are ladled over yourself using a plastic bowl once you have enough hot water poured into a large plastic trash barrel of cold water and it reaches a tolerable temperature. The hot water machine in the kitchen is plugged in for our 3 in 1 instant Nescafe mugs of coffee. The three in one means; coffee, sugar and cream all together in one packet. It sounds gross I know, but actually it's kind of tasty.

Breakfast and lunch is prepared for look sow's (daughter's) day of schooling at Muangsurin School. She always seems to get ill from the school lunch foods that are included daily with the yearly tuition, so we cook her foods and she brings them with her to eat instead. The radio is turned low to a Surin radio station playing Isaan songs of love lost and unrequited called 'Look Tueng', my favorite Thai music. Crickets still chirp merrily in the strengthening dawn light. It's early. I light the first cigarette of the day, and grab a seat at my daughter's desk. With a flashy red pen in hand I scribble my thoughts and deeds onto a lined pad of school paper I've swiped from my daughter's school supplies. She owes me one. Her and her friend Sara used my last pad to color on, the little brats. I pen my promised hour's verse every morning, as I had promised myself to do this time over, except Sundays of course, my day of rest, as if I need a day of rest here.

Although I'm not religious I do agree that one day a week is needed to do absolutely nothing. I do nothing but read both the Bangkok Post and The Nation, and relax over eggs, coffee, marmalade and toast. It's my way of keeping the Lord's day a holy one. Being an agnostic I get to choose which holy edicts I wish to follow. I also choose not to murder or steal, at least for today. As I can only remember one other commandment, the one about not coveting thy neighbor's wife, which I don't, she's not that pretty, I figure I'm doing my holy best. And please, don't clue me in to the rest of the commandments. I prefer to remain ignorant. It's taken me a long time to forget what the nuns beat into my pointy evil little head. Ignorance truly is bliss. I'd like to stay blissful, thank you.

One of my orchids. We grow our own in front of the house.

The cool early morning November Surin air wafts in through the open glass slider doors, ruffling the oddly printed and god awful colored window curtains my lovely lady chose for the blocking of sunlight and prying eyes. The smell of the orchids and other flowers and plants in the front yard carries in to my cigarette smoke damaged olfactory sensors. The neighborhood mongrel dogs growl, howl, bark, and snap at each other, making a general nuisance of themselves as always. Once again I remember my late night desire to buy some rat poison and water buffalo meat. Don't get me wrong. I love dogs. I have a retarded one myself, big ol' galoot he is too. Would this be considered murder? Or canineicide? These freaking mutts are a real nuisance, and the one half of most of Surin's noise pollution. The other half mainly consisting of faulty motocyke mufflers, and old Thai women who can't seem to communicate in less than a full fledged cackling yodel of voice.

Another of my orchids grown in our house.

One problem with Thai's is no one every seemed to have taught them about responsible pet ownership. I may be a boob, but even I have the sense to keep my dog from sitting around under everyone’s windows at 3 a.m. howling his damn fool head off with all his buddies. Plus this one poor mutt next door has the worst case of mange I've ever seen. The poor thing looks like some huge, pink, mutant, hairless gerbil baby. I feel sorry for him, but he's so damned ugly I have to throw a rock at him to chase him away any time he comes within view. It's painful and disturbing to witness his plight. His owners should be horsewhipped. Poor bugger. Even the other dogs avoid him he's so freaking ugly.

After finishing my meager scribblings I take a seat out front on the tiled, rooved patio, and relax a while in the morning sunlight on the hand carved, wooden lounge chair I've come to truly love. Two thousand baht very well spent (about fifty bucks). Damned comfortable it is. I smoke my fourth cigarette of the day, and read the papers while taking full advantage of Old Sol's warming and vitamin enriched rays. Screw the scientists and doctors and their warnings of skin cancer and premature wrinkles. It just feels too damned good not to do. I’ll take my chances, especially as I reflect on my not being able to do this in the Boston area in late November without freezing my gonads off. The soothing rays of the sun, and the soothing news I read from around the world, on pulp paper with cheap ink which always dirties my hands, news about my fellow man's love for his fellow man, produces a reptile-like lethargy in my body and mind. I nod off for a bit and bask under sunny blue skies to the chirping and cawing of birds whose names I still don't know, but hope to one day learn, in Thai and English if possible.

Okay, here's one more of my orchids.

Waking a half hour later, probably from my own water buffalo-like snoring, I look about as I stretch like a lazy old fat cat, carefully, and with much grimacing while joints crack and moan at this outrageous form of exercise that never used to crack and moan just a few short years ago. Ah, the joys of aging.

I spy my lady bending over at some domestic chore through the open doorway, raising within me a desire to once again consummate my wedding vows. Mine went something like "I promise to love, honor, provide, and make sweet passionate love ever day." Something like that anyway I believe it was. Damn, her tush drives me nuts, and wild with desire. I'm a horny old dog, thank God. Woof, woof.

I rise from my wooden throne of lassitude and lethargy and, sneaking quietly on bared feet, give my lady an early surprise Christmas goose, eliciting a squeal and a giggle, followed by a sniff kiss and a murmured "tahlueng" in my ear. I think this means 'sex fiend' in Thai. (I‘m joking dear reader.) Her eyes sparkle like polished obsidian in the morning sunlight and her smile lights my heart and rivals the now fully risen star we circle daily. As I grab her she puts her hands on my chest laughing, and tilts her head toward the kitchen while raising her eyebrows in a warning and informing gesture. Damn! Sis is still here puttering about the kitchen. I release my lecherous hold on my beloved's waist and stride into the kitchen.

Sis is giggling, knowing what I'm about to say.

"Hey Sis, don't you have a friend you need to visit for an hour or two right about now?"

I propose this gently, and with some tact I might add, yet with the insistence of the rightly horny bastard I can be when my mind is set on the release of the seed of future generations as goofy as myself.

"What you do, darling?" my lady inquires from the doorway, as if she didn't know.

"I'm getting rid of the witness dear." I quip.

"Huh?" she grunts back, confused at the unknown English word.

"I'm gonna kill you, and I don't want anyone to see or hear me." I whisper in her ear.

"Why you want to kill me, tilac (sweetheart)?" she whispers, grinning back.

The play must be acted through. It's well rehearsed. We all know our lines.

"I don't want to kill you darling." I say back to her quietly and seductively, with a growling deep menace in my voice into her ear, "But Godzilla wants to kill and eat you! He's hungry!"

(Hey, every guy has a name for his favorite unit. This one’s patented. Get your own!)

"Eeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiiii!" she screams in mock horror, as she slips from my loving grasp and runs fleeing into the hong nam (bathroom), slamming the door on my hot pursuit. Through the door she tells me Godzilla is tahlueng mahk. (Mahk added to a word means 'very much'. Mahk mahk means even more.) I laugh as I hear her splashing water on herself in preparation for her forthcoming sacrificial devouring by the monster of my lust.

"Godzilla ain't the only thing tahlueng about here my dear." I think to myself with a chuckle and a leer.

Sis enters the living room and informs me with a knowing smirk that she is going to visit a friend and do some shopping for tonight's barbeque in the front yard.

"Good!" I say, guiding her to the door.

She heads for her motocyke and informs me she'll be back in about two hours time.

"That should be sufficient." I inform her jokingly, smiling.

"Huh?" she says also, trying to figure out the big English word.

"Okay." I say in explanation.

She fires up the old Suzuki and putters off in a cloud of fumes.

An hour or so later Godzilla and I nod off after slaking our carnal hunger and thirst with some strenuous love making. The sacrificial virgin has been devoured thoroughly, and snoring lightly herself I might add if I wasn't such a gentleman.

I've got it made. Ah yes, the simple life in Surin. What better for a simpleton of simple needs such as myself?

The end.

Cent
(The Central Scrutinizer)

Copyright © Written in the year 2000. All rights reserved by the author.