Any farang man who lives on Phuket has had this happen. A male friend from back in the World comes to visit, and the first time you take him out on the town, he assumes that you're a horseshoe crab. "Take me where the women are," he'll say. "Do the bargaining for me. Make sure I'll be safe, and make sure I get one with long hair, and a great figure, and make sure she knows that I'm ticklish around my ears.
Normally, I put visitors like this into a tuk-tuk and tell the driver to take care of them. But yesterday an old friend from The States came to town with two of his buddies. I took them out myself because there are very few Americans on Phuket, and sometimes I miss the accent and the attitude.
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We went to Patong, and I showed them the sights. We ended up at a Karaoke where I know the boss, the girls are all over 18 and the liquor doesn't taste watered.
We got settled into the big sofas and were joined by some girls. They introduced themselves as Nok, Moo, and Gop. I said "This is Miss Bird, Miss Pig and Miss Frog," feeling like a guest on The Muppet Show.
The guys all spoke at once. I repeated "He says you're beautiful" three times in Thai, the girls giggled, and suddenly it was a free-for-all with six people pulling at my sleeves and yelling over the music. They were yelling things like "Tell her I've been married twenty years and never cheated on my wife!" and "Tell her I think her skin's real soft!" and "Tell him my mother's sick and I really need money."
Every year thousands of fat, bald, short guys with bad breath and crooked teeth come to Phuket and get lucky without my help. Why three good-looking men who in their business control million-dollar budgets and hundreds of workers need me to hold their hands while they shake the dew off their lilies, I'll never know. But finally they went off with the Muppets and I was left to discuss the recent land-appropriation scandal with the puppetmaster, a man named Daeng who used to sell Amway products in Nakon Nayok.
Barely fifteen minutes later one of the Americans came back. He was a big guy, who for the sake of discretion I'll call Ziggy. He dropped into the leatherette couch next to me and said "Man, that was great!"
"Yeah, well it was quick." I said.
"She don't speak much English." Ziggy answered. "And anyway, I wanted to talk to you for a minute without the other guys around."
"About what?"
And then Ziggy gave me his views of Phuket. "These're the nicest people on Earth. Not like the Messicans," he said. "They just need someone to teach 'em a little organization, that's all." Based on one afternoon spent snorkelling off of Krabi, he declared the waters of the Andaman Sea to be the best diving in the world. He let me know that he had always loved Thai food back in LA, and found it even better on Phuket.
Ziggy told me how he wanted to bring his kids here, and asked me about the International School. He talked about moving a substantial portion of his assets over and asked me which bank I recommended. He talked about bringing over a bunch of fiberglass extruding guns and setting up a shop to produce boat hulls. "There's money to be made here," he said.
I smiled, and nodded, and sneaked glances at my watch in the glow from the wide-screen TV. Finally, the others came back grinning like apes and everybody had a last cuddle on the sofa while I tried to settle the bill. At one point Ziggy went off to the bathroom, and my old friend said to me, "This night was just what Ziggy needed. You know in three days he's going home to face a divorce."
And I realised that Ziggy had meant what he said; he really was going to move here. The guy doesn't know who is Prime Minister or when to use which of the seven pronouns that mean "you" or even that he should take his shoes off in a Karaoke VIP room, but he was going to pack up his kids and his money and his fiberglass guns and c'mon over.
In the taxi back to their hotel I tried to calm him down. I told him that of the two million tourists on Phuket every year, at least a hundred must have had the same idea about the boat hull factory, and if it could be done, it would have been, years ago. But for every reason I gave him to be cautious he said, "But you live here, right?"
I finally gave up and recommended a few good books he should read before the big move, though I knew he'd never bother. We all exchanged business cards in the lobby of their hotel and then I got on my motorcycle and drove home.
First impressions are convincing, but usually not correct. I once took my mother on a tour of Patong. We saw the transvestite review, visited a go-go bar, a disco and a massage parlor. And when we had seen it all, my mother had only one comment:
"None of these girls is getting enough to eat," she said.
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