by J. F. Gump
No one Mike knew ever went to Soi 6. He had walked down the street often enough, but he had never stopped at any of the bars. These were not your normal go-go’s or have-a-good-time beer bars. These were short-time bars where you could get a cold beer at reasonable prices and a hot piece of ass for just a little more than the cost of a couple of beers. For no reason in particular, he stopped at the third bar on the left. Well, maybe it was because of the very sexy lady who practically dragged him through the doorway.
Inside was much better than he expected. He had only seen these bars from the outside and he had never been impressed. It was air-conditioned and it was clean. There was one other customer in the bar. Mike found a stool facing the TV and ordered a beer. The lady who had pulled him inside sat on the stool next to him. She looked at him expectantly. He took the hint and offered to buy her a drink. As soon as he had ordered for them both, the girl stood up and proceeded to give him a very nice neck and shoulder massage. It felt good. He wondered why he had never stopped here before. The massage ended when the barmaid delivered their drinks.
“Choke dee ka. Cheers,” the girl said.
“Choke dee krup,” he answered automatically. They both drank; Mike his beer and the girl whatever her nasty looking green stuff was.
The girl leaned against him and touched his crotch. “I want to make love with you,” she said, getting to the point and wasting no time about it.
He took another drink of his beer but said nothing.
The girl continued to rub and stroke Mike’s crotch, but he didn’t respond.
Finally she said, “Are you okay? I think maybe he is asleep”
Mike finished his beer and ordered another before answering, “I hope he is dead.” He wasn’t into the Pattaya sex thing and certainly not into the short-time scene, so he added, “He doesn’t like girls anyway. He likes boys.” He thought that would end this whole weird affair.
Instead, a second girl moved to sit on the stool on Mike’s other side. “I am a boy,” she said.
Mike turned and looked at the second girl. She was sexier looking than the first. “No fucking way,” he said. “I don’t believe you.”
She took his hand and pulled it to his/her crotch. Mike touched briefly then snatched his hand away. “No shit!” was all he could think of saying. In one quick chug, he finished his second beer. “I have to go now.” He stood and walked toward the door.
The girl/guy grabbed his arm. “You didn’t pay,” he/she said, now sounding like a man.
Mike pulled out his wallet and threw money on the bar. He wasn’t even sure how much it was. “If that’s not enough, it’s too damned bad. I’m out of here.” He staggered from the bar.
Outside, he took a deep breath, hoping to clear his mind. It didn’t work. If anything, it only intensified his drunkenness. He toe-heeled his way forward, his gait off balance. He teetered his way toward Second Road and his condo.
Before he was halfway home, images of Math and the big farang returned. The thoughts pushed him over the edge. He began talking to himself. “Stupid whore, cunt, bitch, Thai slut, mother-fucker.”
He stopped and was silent for a moment, pissed that he couldn’t think of more cuss words. He stumbled forward, repeating the same words over and over. His depression and his anger built with every replay of the scene at Soi 2. By the time he reached the Music Lover’s Bar, his depression and his anger had reached the threshold of unbridled loathing. Mike was shit drunk.
When he staggered into the Music Lover Bar, he almost knocked over a stool just trying to sit on it. Wan, the bar manager, watched his weaving arrival. She had news to tell him.
“Sawasdee ka,” Wan said politely. “I am glad you came back. Your friends came here looking for you.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he cut her short. “Bring me a beer.”
“But...,” Wan started.
“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” he repeated louder, nastier. “Now bring me a beer, or you and your bar can go get fucked.”
Wan opened her mouth to say something else then clamped it shut. She didn’t need any trouble and she didn’t want to lose a customer. He was obviously very drunk and in a very bad mood. Wan brought him a beer. He downed it in seconds and ordered another.
As he waited for his next beer, he could feel himself swaying on the barstool. The faces of the girls behind the bar were little more than a blur. The whole bar seemed to be tipping sideways. His mouth watered. His unbridled loathing gave way to unbridled nausea.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he muttered to no one in particular and stumbled hurriedly toward the toilet.
***************
As Randy and Math rode the baht-bus toward Soi 8, Randy said, “You know Mike really likes you, don’t you?”
“I guess I never thought about it,” Math lied. The look on her face said otherwise.
“Well, I have known Mike for a long time and he likes you a lot. Trust me on this one.” Randy paused for a moment. “How do you feel about him?”
“I guess I like him a little,” she said. “It’s too soon for anything more than that. He has been very nice to me and I think someday I could like him very much.”
Randy watched her face as she talked. When she finished, he said, “I think you love him already.”
Math neither confirmed nor denied. Instead, she blushed and changed the subject. “What is your girlfriend’s name?” she asked. The baht-bus turned right on Pattaya Klang.
“Her name is Tana,” he answered. “She works at the Wunder Bar. Have you ever been there?”
“I have only been to the places in Pattaya where Mike has taken me,” she replied. “If I have been there, I cannot remember.” The baht-bus turned left on Beach Road.
“Well, you’ve been there now,” he said, buzzing the driver. “This is where we get off.” He paid the driver and they walked into the Wunder Bar.
Randy roamed around the bar looking for his girlfriend. Unable to do anything else, Math followed. Finally, he stopped and pointed. “There she is, with that farang over there.” He waved at Tana, but she didn’t wave back and she wasn’t smiling. Math felt uncomfortable.
“Let’s sit here,” Randy said. “She’ll come over in a minute.”
They sat down and ordered drinks. Randy glanced toward Tana. “She looks like she doesn’t feel well,” he observed. “Either that or she is in a really bad mood. She’s probably pissed at me for being late. When she comes over, you be quiet and I will explain what’s going on. Okay?”
Math nodded.
By the time their drinks had arrived, so had Tana. “Where have you been?” she demanded of Randy. She glared at Math.
“My friend Mike...” he started.
“Bullshit,” Tana cut him short. “Why are you with that woman?” She pointed at Math.
Randy was confused. “What do you mean, why am I with this woman? I am not with this woman. I...”
“Bullshit,” she cut him off again. “You think I’m blind? What do you call that?” She pointed at Math, again.
“Math,” he said pleadingly, “Please tell her in Thai what is going on.”
Math said nothing. There was a long pause.
“Math, why don’t you tell her what is going on?”
“You told me to be quiet while you explained,” Math said, a smug look on her face. “Maybe now you understand how I felt at Peter’s Bar.”
“Okay,” Randy said, remembering Math and the farang at Peter’s. “I understand. Now, please tell her what is going on.”
Math turned to Tana. “He is telling...” she started and then stopped, staring. “I just realized I know you from somewhere,” she said in Thai.
“Me too,” Tana said back. “Ever work at the Classroom?”
“I am not a bar-girl,” she answered. “Have you ever been to Phit
sanulok?”
“Now I remember,” Tana said. “I met you at the bus station in Bangkok.”
The two women talked with each other in Thai for several minutes, and Math explained everything. Tana looked over at Randy every once in a while and gave him ugly looks just to keep him wondering what they were talking about. Eventually, they ran out of things to say.
“Everything okay now?” Randy said hopefully, laughing nervously.
Both women looked at him and smiled. Tana threw her arms around Randy. “I love you,” she said.
Math looked at her watch. It was after one o’clock in the morning.
“Tana,” Math said to her rather than Randy. “Mike must not be here or we would have seen him by now. I am going back to his condo and wait. I have to explain everything to him.”
Tana nodded, “I understand.”
“Randy,” Math said, “Thank you for your help. I must leave now. Maybe Mike is at home already.”
“I hope so,” he said. He pulled a ten baht piece from his pocket. “Here, this is for taxi fare. When I see Mike, I will talk to him.”
“Thank you,” Math said and left.
She arrived at the Music Lover’s Bar just as Mike was returning from the toilet.
***************
Mike felt better now that he had puked up his last several beers. His mouth tasted like shit, but he felt a lot better. He reeled his way back to the bar and reclaimed his seat. He washed the nasty taste from his mouth with a swallow of beer. He looked around the bar and then toward the street. That’s when he saw her.
She stood at the curb, staring at him. He turned away quickly and tried to clear his head. If there was going to be some sort of confrontation, he needed to be ready. He tried to think what he would say, if she came over to him, but his mind wouldn’t work. His brain felt numb. Maybe he was still drunk. No, maybe he was just on edge. Maybe he just needed something to calm him down. He wished he had a joint - that would do the trick. But he didn’t, so he downed his beer in one quick chug instead. When the earth didn’t start weaving and rolling, he ordered another.
Math watched him from the street. She shook her head when she saw him chug his beer and order another one. The girls had noticed Math and were waving her over to the bar. She ignored them and walked straight to where Mike sat. “We have to talk,” she said, very calm, very polite.
For a long moment he didn’t say anything or even acknowledge her presence. His mind was replaying the scene from Soi 2. But now, his alcohol-pickled brain was adding it’s own little twists to the story. What did the farang do while Mike wasn’t watching? Probably grabbing her tits or more. His mind showed a picture of the farang squeezing Math’s breasts. And what was she grabbing? His mind dutifully played a scene of Math’s hand at the man’s crotch. God, it really pissed him off to think she might have done that.
“I’ve got nothing to say to a stupid little whore, cunt, bitch,...” Mike rattled out all of the names he had thought of earlier and then some.
Math had heard some of the words before, and knew the rest were not polite either. From the corner of her eye, she could see the bar girls looking at her and then at Mike and then at each other. As his verbal assault pounded her ears, her mind turned white hot in anger and embarrassment.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, when he finally ran out of new things to call her. It was all she could do to keep from screaming the words.
“I just told you why,” he said, his words slurred. “Or weren’t you listening?”
“I just want to get my clothes and I will leave you alone.” She was on the verge of tears.
“What clothes?” he sneered.
“The ones I left in your room.”
He knew she was lying. She had taken all of her clothes when she left a few days earlier. “Then get them,” he shouted.
“They won’t let me. You took the room key. Or are you too drunk to remember?”
“I’m not too drunk for anything,” he shot back. “It’s none of your fucking business anyway. Yeah, I have the key. I would be more than happy to help you get rid of anything you left in my room. The sooner the better. You didn’t leave any clothes behind when you went to see that farang... oh, excuse me... I mean when you went to Phitsanulok. Khun kow jai mai? Do you understand?”
“Mai kow jai, I don’t understand,” Math answered, then added the polite “ka”, but her tone was sarcastic.
“I don’t care anyway,” he said. “Come on, you can have anything you want except my clothes and my computer.” He stood up from the bar. “I’ll pay you later, okay?”
Wan, the manager, nodded yes. She was afraid to say no.
It was a short walk from the bar to the lobby of the condo. Mike led weaving a path only a snake could follow. Math walked behind him, praying to Buddha he would fall and hurt himself. She fought back a strong urge to push him. As they entered the lobby, the night boy stood and stared at them, confused panic etched his face. He called to the guard in the parking lot.
“You cannot go up there,” the boy said in carefully spoken English, as if not certain of the words.
“Bullshit,” Mike said loudly, drunkenly. “It’s my room and I’ll go up there if and when I want.”
The boy did not understand any of what Mike said except “Bullshit” - an angry farang “Bullshit”. The guard arrived and positioned himself between Mike and Math and the elevator. The boy picked up the phone and called his boss.
The manager must have been awake, because she was there faster than Mike could think of anything else to say to either the boy or the guard. “What’s going on?” she demanded, but already knew just from seeing everyone who was there.
“I’m going to my room,” Mike grumbled.
“Good boy,” the manager responded to Mike, as if a mother to her son. “You go to bed now because that’s exactly what I am going to do.” She spoke to the guard and the boy in Thai, then turned and walked away. Mike and Math rode the elevator to his floor.
Inside the room, Mike said, “Okay, get your stuff and get out.”
“Why are you being like this?” she asked. “I have done nothing wrong, except want to see you.”
Again the mental images of Math and the farang flared through his head. “Because...” Mike tore off into the same verbal assault as he had at the bar.
Math’s practiced calm disintegrated. The white-hot anger she had felt earlier exploded. Mike looked away for just a second. When he looked back, it was at Math’s fist coming at his face. He didn’t have time to duck, think, or react. Her fist caught him square in the mouth.
The blow knocked him backwards against the wall and he almost fell. He felt no pain, but his thoughts scattered, as if his drunkenness had suddenly intensified. He pushed himself back upright away from the wall. He blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to bring them back into focus. Then he walked toward Math, his face red with anger, a trace of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.
Math was surprised at how she had almost knocked him down. He was coming at her now, but she held her ground. If he got one step closer, she would have to hit him again - harder this time - and then she would run. She balled her hands into tight fists and held them at her sides. He took another step forward.
Just as she started her swing, Mike reached out and grabbed her by both arms. He gripped very hard and picked her off the floor. He shook her roughly then threw her on the bed. “You don’t ever hit me, you little bitch,” he yelled.
He jumped on the bed beside her and pulled his fist back, as if to strike her. At the last moment, he checked his swing. Instead, he roughly pulled her clothes off.
Math could feel her heart going into spasms. “Mike, don’t,” she pleaded. “I am not feeling well. Please stop this.”
“Fuck you,” he spat out, “I don’t believe anything you say.” Without love, passi
on, or consent, he raped her. There was no tenderness in his attack.
Math did not respond to his assault. She just lay there, not moving. She was having one of her “heart attacks”. There was no pain, only overwhelming tiredness. Her anger was replaced by efforts to catch her breath. Her heart palpitated in asynchronous rhythm. She barely noticed Mike’s hips thrusting between her legs. Please, dear Buddha, don’t let me die like this, she thought to herself as she slipped into a surrealistic world of semi-consciousness.
Math first became aware that he had finished when she heard water running in the bathroom. Her heartbeat was more regular now and she was breathing easier. She could feel Mike’s seed seeping from her body and oozing down the crack of her buttocks. She tried to sit up but couldn’t; she was too weak. She lay there embarrassed that she could not clean herself. After a minute, she managed to roll onto her side and drop her legs over the edge of the bed. With all of her strength, she pushed herself into a sitting position. She wanted to cover her nakedness. She tried to stand but could not.
Mike came out of the bathroom. His head had cleared a little from the sex and from the cold water he had splashed on his face. He had put his clothes back on. Math was sitting on the edge of the bed. “Get dressed and get out,” he ordered, his voice cold.
“Why did you do that to me?” she asked, shaken and scared. She folded her arms across her small breasts.
He glared at her. “It’s all you deserve after what you did with that... that... that farang!”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You’re a liar. All Thais are liars.”
“Ask your friend Randy,” she said, fighting back tears. “He knows everything. He knows the truth.”
“Fuck Randy, too,” he sneered. “Now get dressed and get out.”
“I am too weak. I...” Math started, but did not finish her sentence. Instead, she leaned forward and forced herself into a standing position. Immediately, her legs buckled and she fell. The marble floor was a bone chilling cold against her bare flesh. Her heart palpitations started again. In a moment, she began to cry.
