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Part 7

So I ask my lass to interpret what the tall cop is saying.

"What about elephant?" I query. 

She laughs and tells me, "Police friend thinks good idea for you to buy some Beer Chang for us to drink while we wait."

Huh, it figures, but I don't mind really. Firstly because I could use a brewskie myself, and also the cop is on my side and it seemed a reasonable and cheap request, to this falang mind anyway, and that I'm saving much baht in this deal and the price of a few, or more, beer Changs is a cheap alternative to what I could have been paying really. I give my lass a 500 baht note (about 12 bucks) and ask her to get some beers, and also some more colas and munchies with it. No problem. Sis leaves with the baht to run the errand, and also to go get our daughter from home, as it looks like we'll be here a while.

By the way, for those who want to know, the cost of repairs quoted by the impartial mechanic brought in by the cop was this, 15,000 baht (a little less than 400 USD), for everything, including painting the hood and fenders. Pretty darn cheap I thought. That was for a new (or possibly used I think) grill, hood, bumper, fan, fan belt, and more than likely 'reconditioned' radiator. 15,000 baht was hardly a reason to gasp in shock and deride the original mechanic I thought, but our friend said his mechanic could get this done for much cheaper, and the other guy thought HIS mechanic could do it even cheaper than what we could get it done for. Christ! I mean, at the time this was around 370 US dollars. At the time the dollar was getting around 40 baht to the buck. So we waited.

Sis brought back food, and beers, and drinks, and our daughter, who ran up and gave Papa a hug and a sniff kiss on the cheek and started playing with the tall cop's younger son. We all sat around drinking beers and chatting.

The cop asked me through my lady's interpreting abilities about how much cops in the USA get paid. My answer brought howls of laughter and disbelief. I chatted with him quite a while as we waited, and he turned out to be a really nice guy. He even let me check out his weapon, a freaking huge long barreled .357 Magnum. (I shot 'expert' in the military and have used and handled guns since I was a little kid.) The damned thing could probably stop an enraged bull elephant I'd think. He was just a village cop really, but still wore the brown Thai police uniform and drove what looked to be a legit Thai police pick-up truck cruiser. I have no idea what the set-up for police is over in Thailand really. I believe they are a national police force, but the gun he told me was his personal weapon of choice and he had to buy it himself. He was a big enough guy to handle it. Like I said, he's the tallest Thai I've ever come across, well over six foot tall, maybe 6' 3", possibly a half inch or more than that even, and he's thin, but not skinny by any means, with a set of paws on him that would do an old Irish boxer proud. He was a hot shit, and I ended up liking him a lot.

The guilty party had left to go see this other mechanic around 7 p.m. While we waited a party broke out really. We ordered more Chang beer after the original batch was emptied, and continued hanging out in the cop's yard. His son came to me for a light, he had noticed I had a cigarette lighter. He had a shitload of sparklers and I lit them for him and my daughter and they ran around the yard in the twilight evening swinging these around and chasing the family puppy around, laughing and giggling. I would take the sparklers when they were almost burnt out and heave them as far into the air as I could, leaving a trail of sparks like fireworks in the darkening sky.

Finally, after an hour and a half or so the conversation among the Thai fellas starts to become very animated. The cop included seems to be getting a bit ticked off waiting for the truck driver and his posse to come back. Beer Chang bravado seems to be the cry of the evening.

"Let's go get the fucks!" says one brother.

"Let's go smash up their truck! Make look same as mine!" says our friend.

"Fuck that! Let's go arrest the bastards! AND kick their asses!" says the tall cop.

It seems that by making the fellas wait around without a phone call back this is causing some loss of 'face' here. The guys are getting antsy with waiting around, a bit drunk too I think.

I'm dragged into the bullshit session too. I'm asked if I'd like to go kick the truck driver's ass for making us wait around so long. The cop asks me if I'd like him to arrest the guy, and maybe practice some Muay Thai on him, give him a bit of a working over.

"Yeah! Muddafugga wrecked our truck and now he's dissin' us! Let's kick his ass!" seems to be the consensus of the guys present.

This ain't verbatim, but it was the jist of what I was getting from my lass' interpretations and the mood and body language I saw. I said, "Well, I don't think it would be cool for me, a falang, to join in this fun, as much as it would be fun I think I'd better sit this one out." Or something to that effect. I suggested a more Jai yen yen (cool heart/chill out) attitude, and some more beers, on me. The jai yen yen crack seemed to calm them down somewhat, coming from an uncivilized falang, and the offer of more free beers did the rest.

We partied until ten that night in the cop's yard. The truck driver's father called back the cop around nine or so and explained why they hadn't come back by then to the cop. A new meeting, the SALT Treaty Talks number 2 was set up for the next morning at 10 a.m.

We all bid the cop and his wife and kid a goodnight around ten and repair back to my house to continue the party, which lasted until midnight. Dammit! I have to get up at 5 a.m. again and take look sow to school for chrissakes. The talk turns once again to Chart Thai and Thai Rak Thai (Thai political parties) and the elections. Shit, I hate politics. I seem to have a bunch of dissidents for family and friends here. Momma comes in and yells at us to shaddup all ready on the Thai Rak Thai stuff. Seems she is a Chart Thai voter. We ate black sticky rice and fried chicken, and polished off another box of Beer Chang before everyone left at midnight.

(to be continued)

Cent
(The Central Scrutinizer)

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