“I found a dead girl in my apartment”

It’s early afternoon on Saturday.

I have a lot of things to say, not many of them of any importance, so I may ramble a bit.

First is to comment on the fact that while I was away I was relying on Bluetooth and my mobile phone for an internet connection. I would click on a page, go make a cup of tea, then come back just in time to see it finish loading. I actually got used to it after a while, and I guess a month is enough time for a person to acclimate to anything. I plugged my laptop in here at home a few minutes ago, pressed a button and the web page appeared instantly. Then it happened again. Then I remembered what ADSL means to me. Blissful.

I am off-work for the next nine days. When I was approaching the end of my trip upcountry, I was faced with a choice of coming directly back to Bangkok, or possibly returning to Chiang Mai one more time to enjoy the delights of a waitress I met on my last trip there. She was very accommodating, and for the low cost of a bus ride and an inexpensive hotel, it seemed like an attractive option to see her again.

But one of my clients called me about a week ago and asked for an appointment to assist her with a large project she has to do for her work. I explained that I was out of town for a week, but that I could be back on the 12th if she wanted to wait. We made an appointment for 2 pm, and I booked a plane flight back to Bangkok, forgetting about Chiang Mai.

I opened my email today and found a message from my client that was sent yesterday afternoon. Her project was re-assigned to a different person and so she canceled our appointment. The loss of income isn’t much, but the opportunity cost of seeing the Chiang Mai cutie again is a bit disappointing. With 8 days of holiday left in front of me I am contemplating a run to Pattaya or perhaps a return to Chiang Mai, but the thought of just relaxing at home for a week is actually pretty appealing as well. I have a big payday coming on Wednesday but at the moment my bank account is close to nil, so I won’t be getting into much trouble here in Bangkok over the next few days.

I landed at Don Muang Airport last night around 6:30. It was the first time I’d flown the budget airline 1-2-GO, and I was pleasantly surprised at the quality of the service and the comfort of the trip.

After landing it was a different story. We had to be ferried from the plane to the terminal in buses – which I am used to – but I was in the last group to exit the plane, and we had to wait about 5 minutes between the second bus and the last one. Five minutes is a long time to stand in an airplane aisle with your bags waiting to get off the plane — especially if you’ve been away from home for several weeks and your impatient to get back to the City of Heavenly Beings.

I finally arrived at the terminal and was surprised that the bags hadn’t started running on the conveyor yet. They didn’t start coming until nearly 7 pm — close to 30 minutes after the plane landed. Fortunately, my bags were among the first to come out and I was on my way soon after.

There was no line for taxis like the old days at DM airport. I guess since international flights go to Suvarnapumi airport now, there’s only a minimal number of farangs coming through the old airport, which handles domestic air service.

The way it works at Thai airports is that you tell the attendant where you want to go, she writes your destination on a ticket and gives it to you. You hand the ticket to a fellow who assigns you to an appropriate taxi driver. If you don’t speak Thai, the system works quite well, as the driver knows exactly where to go without the need to ask you.

My driver got in the taxi, looked at the ticket and then got out again. He came back, turned, looked at me and asked about my destination. I answered briefly in Thai that he was correct. He spoke quickly in Thai saying that since I was a farang he thought I would be going to a Sukhumvit hotel, so he was confused about my destination. I understood him and chuckled.

Apparently this brief exchange convinced him that I speak fluent Thai, which I absolutely do not. I stumble along with a minimal amount of skill. As we headed out of the airport, he spoke rapidly in Thai, explaining which way he wanted to go to take me home, avoiding u-turns by going on a longer route. I captured about 50% of what he’d said; enough to get the drift, if not the details. I make some affirmative comments in Thai, saying that it was fine, he could go any way that he thought was best.

He now was convinced that I was fluent, and proceeded to regale me with a couple of stories in rapid Thai that was totally unintelligible to me. After a while he must have realized that I was grinning stupidly but not understanding him. Perhaps he asked me questions and I didn’t respond, or maybe I didn’t laugh at a joke, but eventually he stopped talking and we passed the rest of the trip home in silence.

I had arranged to meet a few friends at the Big Mango Bar around 8pm, so after a quick shower I was on my way. The plan was to hook up with Bangkok Bad Boy, Penfold and my friend the Dude. Walking in, I felt a bit like Norm from Cheers, because I was a step or two in and I heard my name called out. Another friend of mine who — for the purposes of this blog will be called Eisenhower — greeted me from his seat at the bar.

I said hello to Eisenhower, then to the Dude who was sitting nearby. The two of them have met before, so I wasn’t sure if they were together. I spotted an empty stool between them. I had spoken to Bangkok Bad Boy on the phone and knew he was already in the bar, but I didn’t see him. I assumed this might have been his stool, but I sat on it anyway. It turned out that Eisenhower and the Dude had not recognized each other, but as soon as I’d spoken to both of them they recalled that we’d all been out together before. At that moment BBB returned to the bar from upstairs and gave me the bad news that Penfold had called and would be unable to join us. No worries. The four of us drank our bottles of beer and chatted amiably.

I looked at Eisenhower and asked if he’d been well during my weeks upcountry, and he got a concerned look on his face and said, “Actually I’ve had a bit of a problem. I found a dead girl in my apartment.”

BBB, the Dude and I stood looking at Eisenhower.

He didn’t say anything else. The seconds ticked by as we all looked at one another.

Finally, the three of us all spoke at once… “and?” we asked. “Is there more to the story?”

Well, Stickman has reported recently (by my count) three deaths of Thai bar girls who have had large amounts of alcohol. The most recent report had been about a girl who fell and hit her head while drunk, and who later died as a result of the head injury.

The thought flashed through my mind that it was probably this girl. I was right.

Eisenhower told us the terrible details. He shares a 2-bedroom apartment with a roommate. His roommate barfined this girl, and she came back to the apartment with him. In the morning, he dressed and went to work, leaving her in the bed.

Around noon, he called Eisenhower to ask about the girl. Eisenhower confirmed that she was still in the room, and peeked in to see if she was up yet. She was still in the bed. Knowing the capacity of Thai girls for sleeping, no one was particularly concerned.

By three o’clock Eisenhower decided that the girl needed to be roused. I believe he was planning on leaving the apartment around 4 p.m. and didn’t want to leave her there alone. He went in and touched her arm to wake her. According to Eisenhower, you know immediately if you touch a body that’s been dead for twelve hours.

In the Big Mango Bar the three of us listening to the story were amazed. Later in the evening I announced that Eisenhower won the ‘best story of the night’ award, but honestly, it was a tragic tale to hear.

Unsurprisingly, neither Eisenhower nor his roommate wanted to stay in the apartment, so they found a new place and moved about 2 weeks ago. A very sad story.

An hour later when the conversation had moved on to happier topics, I made mention of Bangkok Bad Boy’s recent blog, Maid Service Required. Eisenhower had read it, and complimented 3B on his skill. My friend the Dude rarely reads blogs, and had not seen the masterpiece. Eisenhower and I gave him a few clues about the nature of the story without telling the story.

During the entire time we’d been talking and drinking, there was one fellow who was in the bar alone sitting about a meter away from us. He was paying his bill and preparing to leave about the time our conversation turned to the subject of BBB’s blog.

The guy was heading for the door, but hearing us (not difficult because I always talk at full volume and I’m terribly indiscreet) the guy turned around, looked at BBB and asked, “Was that you that wrote that story?”

Bad Boy, who doesn’t really relish being acknowledged in public, admitted that indeed he had written it. They guy walked back over and shook BBB’s hand and told him it how much he’d enjoyed it.

Well, by now I figured the Dude couldn’t be the only one in the world who hadn’t read the blog, so I forced him to go upstairs where the Big Mango has three computers available for public use. I opened up the blog and made the Dude read it. He was, of course, happy that I did so.

Eventually the conversation turned to the balance of the night. What should we do?

The Bad Boy had very definite ideas. He said that as he had passed Nana Plaza he’d seen a large banner hung across the entry announcing that the Voodoo Bar had re-opened. This was neither here nor there, but across the bottom of the banner were the words, “Bangkok’s only…”

BBB said that he hadn’t been able to read what the end of that statement was. He suggested that he was intensely curious to know how it ended. If it said, “Bangkok’s only fifteen-girl lesbian show” then he was interested in checking it out. If, on the other hand, it said “Bangkok’s only all-male nude dance club” then he was keen to avoid it.

The balance of our night then, would be determined by the words on the banner.

As a group the four of us headed to NEP. Arriving, we walked in the plaza and looked at the banner. Water bottles had been used to weight it down, but somehow the right side of the sign had flipped over the top, but looking carefully I was able to make out the balance of the message.

BANGKOK’S ONLY MUD WRESTLING RING.

BBB and I locked eyes. We nodded simultaneously and the four of us were off t the new Voodoo club to see the mud wrestling.

It was a crushing disappointment when we arrived. The small outdoor terrace was open and had a couple of girls serving up beer, but inside the bar was under construction. Even now, at 10 pm on a Friday night, the workmen were busy fitting it out, but the bar and the mud wrestling wasn’t happening yet.

We stood in a circle. Where to now?

Getting four men to agree on which go go bar to hit is often a bigger challenge than it would seem. In the midst of plenty, the four of us stood uncertain about what to do now that the promise of mud wrestling was a phantom.

Finally Eisenhower spoke up. He suggested that the last time he’d been to Rainbow 1 it had been chock-a-block with beautiful girls. Rainbow 1 it would be then.

I really must send a thank you card to Eisenhower later this week. Rainbow 1 was absolutely loaded with girls — about 60 of them working — and there wasn’t a bad looking one in the group. Sixty beauties in bikinis, all rating between 8 and 10. I’ve never, ever seen such a perfect lineup in a go go bar.

I considered the possibility that I’d simply been up country too long, but a quick poll of my compatriots confirmed the fact that all four of us were blown away by the soft brown flesh on display.

At some point the Bad Boy left. Eisenhower told me that he’d said he needed to use the phone but would catch up with us later.

The girls were packed onto the stage — about 20 of them crowded on. They danced in three shifts, and by the time I was on my third beer we’d seen all of them and the original bunch was back up dancing. Deciding we’d had enough we paid up and headed out. The Dude was going home, as was Eisenhower. There was a message on my phone from Bad Boy, so I called him. He was having a quiet beer at one of the Plazas beer bars.

I met him there. Since he was almost done with his beer I didn’t order anything. He was keen to move on because Margaret Thatcher was in the bar. I managed to discreetly get a look at her. She was a buxom woman with very attractive features who was busily chatting up a 50-ish man with a goatee who obviously had no idea what was ahead of him. BBB wanted to get out of the bar before she spotted him.

Bad Boy and I decided, for complex reasons, to go up to the third floor. I believe our destination was Hollywood Strip.

As we approached the stairs BBB pointed to the back where there is an elevator and uttered these timeless words, “The Bangkok Bad Boy doesn’t do stairs”. I laughed.

We never got more than a meter inside Hollywood Strip. It was lame, so we turned around and left.

One of my favorite go gos is next door — Carousel. BBB rates it as a 50-percenter as far as go gos are concerned, but he agreed to indulge my wishes and we went into Carousel.

We were just on our first beer when BBB got a message on his phone. He told me a story about a girl who had given him many fantastic sexual experiences, but he said that he had lost track of her. The SMS was from this girl, and apparently she was keen to impale herself on BBBs manhood tonight. I wished him luck and sent him on his way.

Alone but not ready to go home, I returned to the Big Mango where there were several beautiful girls working. The perennial slender dark-skinned beauty Oh and the round faced cheerful Nid were both working the bar last night. Also there is a new bartender named Mint who has the look that I admire. She has a slender body, fine features in her face, perfect white teeth and smooth brown skin. I had seen her but never talked to her, so I sat down at the bar and bought her a drink. She speaks good English and is quite charming. She told me that she’s twenty six years old, but honestly she looks much younger.

The manager of the Big Mango in it’s original incarnation was a Nordic fellow named Jonah. I never knew him well, but we were on a first name basis. He was drinking at the bar, and when I recognized him I bought him a beer, and we chatted for a bit.

Eventually I realized that I was in danger of simply boring Mint to tears if I sat at the bar till closing time. I figured I should move on.

By this time I was running out of steam. I stopped at the Burger cart outside of NEP and bought a burger with everything. As I took the first bite I saw a gaggle of girls across the street and decided I’d casually go over and get a closer look.

I got the smiles and winks from the group and quickly zeroed in on one girl. She looked to be about 30, and had a nice body and pleasant smile. I chatted for a moment, then realized that I probably didn’t have enough cash on me to go short time. Oops.

I asked the girl if she liked to drink. She said she liked beer. I told her I wasn’t gonna take her home, but offered to buy her a beer if she wanted it. Okay.

We went to the Hillary 2 Bar together.

I love this place. Live band, pool tables, hundreds of freelancers. Me and the girl sat at a table in the back listening to the music. We chatted in Thai and she started flirting and teasing me a little bit, obviously trying to get me to change my mind about the short time. It would have worked if I’d had any cash left, but I didn’t. We stayed about 20 minutes, then I told her I needed to move on. She reluctantly went back to her post in front of the Nana Hotel sign. I hope she had better luck later in the evening.

By this time I’d had too much beer. I should have gone home to bed.

Instead I went to Soi Cowboy.

I went into Five Star, ordered a beer and tried not to fall asleep. Eventually I decided that it was no good, paid for my one bottle of beer and left.

I got a taxi home and crashed in the bed.

I woke up today at lunch time thinking I was in Chiang Rai province. I was surprised and pleased to find that I was, in fact, at home in my own bed.

It’s good to be back home.