Chapter 10 Whiskey week

Continuing our week of exploring we returned to Bossy and made a second visit to The Riverside on Saturday, the place jumping our goal was to find two new girls.  Taking our position in the same corner as the previous visit we scanned the floor.  It was classier than the other places we visited, a more upmarket clientele and not somewhere you could take a girl from behind the bar.  As our whiskey arrived I caught the eye exactly what I was looking for, top of the range figure, well dressed, long hair falling around a pretty face.

“Gun, don’t make it too obvious but the girl behind you looks interested.”

Standing chatting to her friend she glanced in our direction.

“What do you want to do?” Gunner questioned.

“Let’s just give it a bit of time, see how things pan out.”

As time ticked away and the whiskey bottle reached the midway point I decided to make a move, in the same instant watching as two older Westerners, who’d been chatting happily at the back of the bar, moved in alongside our girls.

“Fuck,” I cursed dipping my head and looking up to meet Gunner's ‘I told you so’ look.

We’d set everything perfectly, found a good venue, got some attention. 

“Too slow,” Gunner chided.

“I know, I know, shit!”                  

I took a moment collecting my thoughts.

“Hey, it looks pretty easy, as long as we move when we start getting the attention we should be set.”

I was talking about human fishing, watching the float bobbing in the water, trying to gauge the exact moment to strike. Watching as the balding farang took our girls I kept glancing at the girl who’d given me the eyes.  Pleased as she responded in kind and content she’d have preferred to be with me, but there was a gentleman’s agreement in Thailand ‘If you got to a girl first, she was yours’.  It was a rule the girls abided by.  They might have changed their men every night but once they’d given themselves over, that was it.  It was the rule which kept things from falling apart, had a girl changed partners every time some guy showed an interest there’d have been chaos. 

Turning my attention to the band I noticed how pretty the singer was.  A round face, skinny physique she looked like a million other Thai girls but her voice was magic.  Deep and husky as she rattled out her tunes like a baritone. 

“Hey Gun, what about the singer?”

“Looks good.”

I continued to watch for the next half an hour carried along by The Red Hot Chilli Peppers and Jamiroqi.  They were a cool looking crew, all in their youth, the male lead in black sunglasses which covered half his face. When they took a recess Gunner disappeared and I lit up a cigarette trying to spot my singer beyond the heads. 

“I help you out buddy,” Gunner said as he returned.

“You what?”

“I talk to your girl.”

It was a shitty move, I liked to take things softly, softly, rely on my looks to catch an eye, not make a move until I was sure I had a girl hooked.

“Fuck man, that’s not good.”

“Hey buddy, you looked like you needed the help.”

As I lent against the wall I felt like I was back at school, scrawling a note to the girl I fancied, getting a friend to make the delivery.  Then I saw her, delicately passing through the crowd, she waved and I reconsidered his approach.  It didn’t have any class but it seemed to have done the trick.

“O.K., looks like I might be in but don’t pull that stunt again.”

As the band made its way through another hour we waited until the finish and watched as the bar emptied.  Seeing my girl alone I approached and introduced myself.

“Hi Paul, I think my friend spoke to you.”

She didn’t mention what he’d said, greeting me like an old friend and politely asking where I came from.  Finishing my spiel about being in Thailand for three months boxing and sensing she was on her way I decided not to push.  With a million other girls I wouldn’t have hesitated but something told me it would be slow.  Maybe not a bad slow, the kind of slow that made something last rather than a fly by night fling.  Satisfied groundwork had been laid I collected my drinking partner and left.

“What did she say?”

“Oh, you know, the usual; her name, she’s a university student, sings here every night for extra cash, we’ll see.”

Finishing the night at Spicy I visited the bathroom and emerged to see my Yakuza girl staring at me with tears in her eyes.

“You go out, why you not call me?” she sobbed.

“Just come with Gunner, have fun.”

“You have new girlfriend?”

“Not have, come alone, you can see our table.” 

Leaving thirty minutes later Gunner agreed that would be the end of Yakuza nights.

Continuing our night time expeditions that week I’d slacked off morning training sleeping in till midday and working hard in the afternoons.  Performing strongly in the runs and getting through some good rounds of pad work with the trainers I was still on track.  On Thursday Gunner came down to the gym.

“I have something to show you,” he said.

Paying him a visit in his room he handed me a brown envelope.

“What’s this?”

“X-ray.”

“You’ve been to hospital?”

“My ribs been getting worse, I wanted to get it checked out.”

“And?”

“Broken.”

“No fucking way.”

He nipped the acetate between his fingers holding it to the light, his torso highlighted in blue.

“Here” he said.

I peered closer seeing a black gap where it should have been blue.  Rather than feeling sympathy I was overcome by a deep sense of satisfaction.  Wearing pads, with my weaker leg I’d broken someone’s rib. ‘Imagine if I hadn’t been wearing the pads,’ I thought.

“Fuck man, I’m sorry about your rib but it’s kind of good for you, you know.  I mean, you get to go home and tell everyone how you broke your rib doing Muay Thai.”

It was true, it worked both ways, I got to tell people I’d broken someone’s rib, he got to tell the story about his injury. We were genuine fighters, performing the brutal art.  In a sense it cemented the relationship, a pact between warriors, exchanging broken bones and the x-ray was our proof. 

“So, what do you do when you break a rib?”

“Nothing, you can’t have a plaster so you just have to rest.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Only when I move, if I breathe in I can really feel it, but otherwise it’s O.K.”

I didn’t see him again until my bedside phone rang on Saturday.

“Come down to my room, I have to discuss tonight.”

Answering the door he returned to lying on the bed.

“Still sore?”

“Ah, not so bad.”

“How about your training?”

“Sill going pretty well, not doing so much boxing but my running’s getting really strong. Ran with Ronnie this morning you should have seen his face when I told him I’d had a bottle of whiskey and twenty cigarettes last night.”

“Ah.. I don’t think you can do like this forever, anyway, about tonight, I’d like you to come with me.”

“Where?”

“I’m meeting a Japanese guy at Hillside Condo.”

“Who?”

“Ah, just someone I met last night.”

“Last night, I thought you were resting your rib last night.”

“I wanted to see a place called ‘Warm Up’, so….”

“O.K., what’s the deal with the Japanese guy.”

“Well, he’s brought himself a condo and he’s invited me to see it.”

Hillside 4 was the number one residence in Chiangmai.  Able to own a condo but not land unless you married a Thai it was a popular choice among foreigners and well located near Central shopping centre with views to the mountain. 

“How old’s this guy?”

“Older, but he’s O.K.  I just don’t want to get stuck with him.”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on, you owe me a favour,” he said lifting his shirt and stroking his rib.

Dressing in my now mandatory tight fitting shirt I looked at myself in the mirror.  I looked great, handsome face, simple but sheik outfit and now the physique, I was going to meet a lady.  Arriving for seven thirty we pulled into the underground lot.  You could tell it was a foreigner place, flash cars and big bikes, the lobby a shiny marble floor, neat coffee décor.  Riding the elevator to the seventh floor we located the room and knocked, waiting without reply.

“You sure this is the room?”

Gunner fished a scrap of paper from his pocket ‘715’.

Before we knocked again the door was opened by a healthy looking Japanese standing cloaked in a white towel.

“Ah, hi, come in, come in, I hadn’t expected you quite so early.”

Entering I gazed around the cavernous space, architects plans laid out on a glass table, balconies on two sides, the simple furniture looked lost.

“Jeez this is big,” I said.

“One hundred and fifty square metres, not bad really.  I’ve got a couple of bedrooms and everything else you can see.  Not finished yet, I just moved in, but yeah, make yourselves at home.”

Moving to the kitchenette he opened the fridge, shelves lined with neat rows of alcohol and soft drinks. 

“Help yourselves guys, I’m just going to finish off in the bathroom.”

Not ready for alcohol I picked out a soda, Gunner following suit.

“This place is huge, fuck, I could happily live in somewhere like this,” I said, “and look at that view.”

I walked to the patio doors, sliding them open and stepping outside to lean against the balcony. 

“So, what do you know about this guy?” I asked Gunner as I stared towards the mountain.

“Not much, I only met him last night but apparently he’s living here, has a couple more studios upstairs he’s renting out.”

“So guys, good to see you,” our host said returning. “We don’t need to rush, Warm Up won’t get going for an hour or so.”

“Nice apartment, really nice,” I said.

“Yeah, well, like I said, not really finished yet.  I’m planning to take down a couple of walls and add a Jacuzzi spa.  The girls love it, I had a really cute one back last night.  Have a look at my plans.”

Walking to the table he picked up the architects drawings and showed us how he planned to renovate it into a mini Playboy mansion.

“So, are you from Japan?” I asked.

“Originally yes, but I lived the last fifteen years in Canada with my Canadian wife.  All finished now.”

“You like it out here?”

“Ah yes, I started coming for holidays and they just kept getting longer.  I bought this place a couple of months ago and I’ve got two more studios upstairs I’m renting out.”

“Expensive?”

“No, not really, this place was $50,000 and the places upstairs $23,000 a piece.”

That’s what I’d heard, fifteen thousand pounds to own outright.  At home I’d have had to spend twenty five years paying a mortgage but in Thailand, with a little capital, I could buy outright.  It was a trap at home, people constantly bidding up the price of property until you were taking out a loan seven times your salary to pay it off.  The first long term resident I’d met other than Andy I was intrigued by Gordon.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s your routine out here?”

“Well, let me see. I work as a translator, English to Japanese and vice versa.  So my mornings I translate, afternoons I go to the gym and in the evenings I chase girls.”

“Every night?” he took a second to think about it.

“Yeah, pretty much, in fact, yes every night.”

“Where’d you go?”

“’Warm Up’s currently the number one place for meeting girls.  It tends to change every few months but right now it’s ‘Warm Up’.”

It was more of the epicurean lifestyle, night after night of sense gratification but somehow I felt it wouldn’t be enough for me.  We received a guided tour of the bedrooms and finishing our sodas made our way to the bikes.  A more understated foreigner Gordon satisfied himself with the mandatory Honda Dream and we followed him for the short hop to the club.  Nimmanhaemin Road was the up and coming spot in Chiangmai, downtown catering for the tourists, this part of the city was home to the long term residents and popular with university students.

Motorbikes already stacked five deep as we arrived we parked at the back and made our way inside.  An open air restaurant with pools and fountains at the centre it looked upmarket.  Dozens of candlelit tables already busy with groups of girls I peered forward to see the football playing on a wall mounted screen.

“Looks nice,” I said as I tried to make out the score.

“Ah yes, a very nice place for eating and when we’ve finished we can move inside to the discothèque.”

“Is it big?”

“Pretty big, but we don’t want to get in too late if we want a table.”

A waitress leading us to our seats I perused the menu and seeing whiskey prices were the same as everywhere else took the initiative ordering a large bottle of Hundred Pipers.

“Want a cigarette?” I offered Gordon.

“No, no, I don’t smoke, it’s one of my secrets to staying young, exercise and no smoking.  How old do you think I am?”  I gave him a once over.

“Shit, that’s always a hard one, thirty eight.”

“There, see, my secret must be working, forty seven.”

He looked good for his age, a full head of hair, decent complexion, but Asians always did look younger.

Ordering a couple of Thai dishes to accompany the drinks, I sat back and wondered how we might approach the girls.  Wait till later and pick one out or work our way into a table, as I stared at a group not too far away, a stunning girl turning to look at me, holding my gaze and then turning back to whisper to her friend.

“Shit man, there’s a lot of nice looking girls here?” I said.

“Ah.. a place like this is much better than Bubble and Spicy, the same girls go to those places every night,” Gunner chipped in.

“You know, in this part of town you find a better class of girl, girls with jobs, university students.  Many university students come here,” Gordon added.

As the food arrived a girl approached and Gordon rose to meet her.

“Off, this is Paul and Gunner.”

She appeared in her mid thirties, politely weiing as she took her seat.  She was plain in appearance, short hair bobbed to the shoulder.

“I met this girl a couple of weeks ago, nice girl, works in the airport,” Gordon whispered as she stood re-filling our glasses.

Finishing the food I watched her clear the plates.  She was a hostess, the type or girl you could take home to your parents sure she’d meet with approval.  It seemed to be the way with most Thai girls, always taking care of their men, pouring drinks, plating food from the dishes we shared.

Taking our half finished whiskey we entered the club just after ten.  Like Bossy, the sound proof glass disguising the thrall which met us inside.

“Fuck this place is busy,” I said as we moved through the crowd.

“Yeah, probably should’ve got in a bit earlier, but we might find a place at the back,” Gordon suggested.

Slowly edging through the crowd we made it to the far side and grabbed a couple of chairs.  It didn’t seem like my kind of place, no room to dance, groups of Thai’s chatting with their drinks.  It was the type of place Thai’s came together rather than with the intention of meeting anyone new.

“Hey Gun, what do you think?” I said.

“Ah.. a little busy.”

“Fancy Bossy later?”

His eyes lit up at that suggestion and as he turned to talk to Off I noticed Gordon had disappeared.

“Gun, where’s Gordon?”

“I think he went to find a girl?”

I took a moment to comprehend what he’d said.

“I thought Off was his girl.”

“One of his girls, I think he likes to play the field as you say in England.”

“What about Off, she O.K. with that?”

“I guess so.”

When Gordon returned still single we agreed to move to Bossy.  All knowing the route and fuelled by whiskey I raced off, reckoning I could make it to the petrol station and still arrive first.  Tearing across town I’d become adept at throwing the bike into corners, shutting off the power as I glided round, accelerating on my exit. I’d never drink drive at home but it was a given in Thailand.  The only way to get from bar to bar at the flick of a switch. 

In Bossy normal service was resumed; great music, great crowd, oodles of whiskey, on ‘Off’s recommendation we bought a bottle outside and only paid for mixers and ice.  It was a great place for drinking, but like Warm Up, not a place for meeting girls.  Thai girls were open if you applied the right effort but it was harder in a place like Bossy.  As Gunner chatted to Off I again asked where Gordon had disappeared to.

“I think he found a new girl,” Gunner replied.

“Fuck, that’s a bit rude.”

“Ah.. I think she knows what he’s like.”

I suddenly had the urge to go dancing. 

“Gun, you ready to go?”

“Ah, I think I take ‘Off’ home.”

I looked at Off and back to Gunner.

“Your home?”

“Ah.. we’ll see.”

I couldn’t get my head around the night’s scenario, a guy bringing his girlfriend, going to find a new girl, giving his old girl to his friend.  Leaving Gunner I shot towards Bubble, backtracking to retrieve my helmet as it bounced from the basket.  I never looked at the speedometer, just opened the throttle and felt the wind shooting past in thunderous blasts.  Arriving, I collected my Deep Bomb and made my way to the stage.  It was a place I was at home now, always at the front, I felt like I was calling the tune, the crowd below looking up as I choreographed the night.  Dancing intently for twenty minutes it was a perfect synergy, the end of the night, smoke and alcohol seeping from my pores.  Performing a move I’d picked up in India I shimmied to the floor, controlling my body and rising on the balls of my feet.  Satisfied I’d done a good night's work I saw things out from the balcony. 

Surveying the crowd I looked at the Westerns, mainly backpackers wearing hippie clothes I felt a class apart, on a mission, each day having a purpose.  Them as I’d been four years ago, aimlessly wandering from place to place.  I thought of the words of Thoreau ‘Most mean lead lives of quiet desperation’.  People travelled because that’s what people did, a rights of passage before entering work.  I’d never go back to that life now, the thoughtless routine drifting to retirement, science finding new ways to extend life, what was the point?  For me life had become about quality rather than quantity.  When I’d decided to change things I’d done so because of an ache in my heart, a niggling voice which had asked me to search for the best.  Surely that’s what life was about, not seeking merely pleasure but setting incredible challenges and striving towards them.  My musings ended as I spotted a girl.