Gay Boy Thailand

Duff was offended and decided never to speak to Larson again. For two days he avoided the Swede. But gradually Duff’s anger subsided, and he missed someone to talk to. Larson had been right about one thing - buying Cialis was no big deal. Duff was sure half the guests in the hotel took one pill or the other.

But Duff resented Larson’s loose tongue. Duff had asked for confidentiality and Larson had broken his promise. Duff decided that he had to be careful what he told him. Sharing a secret with the Swede was as good as announcing it in the newspaper.

—

Larson was watching the news on the small TV in his room when his doorbell rang. Not expecting any visitor Larson looked in the peephole before opening the door. He saw the shadow of a man both tall and wide. Larson had hoped it was Khun O but this had to be a farang.

- Yes? said Larson, opening the door only a little. There was something familiar about the farang who stood outside, but Larson could not place him.
- Excuse me, said the man in a German accent. - I am looking for a Thai boy. He said he would stay here.
- You mean Khun O? He has left.
- No, another one. His name is Lek. Do you know him?
- I know him but he is in Germany.
- He should be back by now. He said he would stay here. Malaysia hotel, room 606.
- I haven’t heard from him for a long time. I don’t know where he is or what he does. And I don’t care.
- If he shows up could you tell him to call me please? He owes me money.
- Does he?
- Yes. Tell him to call Dietmar.

The visitor left and Larson sat down on the edge of the bed, wondering what this was about. Dietmar! So that was why the farang looked familiar. It was Dietmar the pimp. What nerve he had to come asking for Lek. But where was Lek? And why had he given Larson’s room as his Bangkok address?

Larson’s questions were partly answered the same night at 1am, when the phone rang. Larson was asleep but woke by the ringing and answered.
- Hello? said Larson.
- Lar-san!
- Yes?
- It’s me!
- Who?
- Me!
- Who is calling?
- It is me!
- Lek? Where are you?
- I stay Whoppertan.
- Whoppertan? Where is that?
- Germany.
- So you are still in Germany.
- Yes. I want go back Thailand.
- You can go wherever you want.
- But I no money buy ticket.
- And why are you telling me this?
- You hel me.
- I don’t think so!
- Ahhhh you no good heart. Why you not take care me? You forget me?
- I have tried.
- I no money ticket.
- That’s too bad. I guess you have to live in Germany then.
- But I no visa. If I stay police catch me.
- What has any of this to do with me?
- Lar-san! Why you forget me? If you hel me I give back money you.
- Sure.
- Lar-san! I love you. Why you no good heart?
- This is none of my business. Let Dietmar pay your ticket. He was here today, asking for you.
- Dietmar? Him no good. Him no hel me.
- I want to sleep now. Goodbye Lek.
- No no. I want speak you.
- If you have anything more to say you can email me. Good night!

Larson hang up. Just as my life was improving here comes that load of trouble called Lek, thought Larson. No, this time Lek is on his own. And I don’t want anything to do with his dubious friends either.