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It was midnight in the Malaysia Hotel when Larson called Duff’s room from a phone in the lobby.
- Allo? said Duff in a sleepy voice.
- Are you up?
- No.
- There is a woman in the restaurant with Lek. Is that your mother?
- I hope not.
- She is a redhead with fake bleached hair. Just like you.
- Why blame my mum? It could be any number of people.
- I am moving in.
- No! Stay away from them.
- Too late. Ta ta!
- Good evening Mr. Lar-san, said the restaurant manager and wai’ed.
Larson walked causally over to the table where Lek and the foreign woman sat. Lek twisted nervously on his chair when he saw the Swede approach.
- Ms. Duff, I presume? asked Larson.
- Hello, said Duff’s mother. – Are you Mr. Larson?
- Yes.
- My son has told me so much about you.
- All of it accurate and highly flattering, I hope?
- That goes without saying. Why don’t you join us, Mr. Larson?
- I go home, said Lek.
- Why? It is still early, said Duff’s mother.
- Younger brother me home alone.
- And?
- Him afraid ghost.
Lek left the restaurant without making eye contact with Larson.
- I love Thailand, said Duff’s mother.
- It is wonderful, isn’t it?
- Thailand is a paradise. And the men here are so good looking and charming.
- Yes they are.
- The only minus is the dirty old Western men who prey on the poor defenceless Thais.
- Horrible, said Larson.
- I want to do my part while I am here, said Duff’s mother.
- Yes?
- The women’s lib group in Manchester gave me some addresses to charities here in Bangkok. I will visit them and maybe make donations.
- The women’s lib group? I see, said Larson.
- I have the Coalition To Stop Exploitation and Tourism-based Abuse, or C-SEATA.
- That’s great, said Larson.
- And The Foundation For Traditional Thai Values. It is lead by this senator. I forgot her name.
- Senator Lalida, said Larson.
- You know her? She works for the poor and the downtrodden.
- I know who she is, said Larson. – Just another bitter postmenopausal man-hating bitch.
- You are joking, of course?
- Of course. I have the outmost respect for traditional Thai values.
- So what brings you to Thailand, Mr. Larson?
- I am here to see the temples. And the birds. I do a lot of bird watching.
- Good. I wish everyone here had as respectable interests as you have.
- I also do some cow watching.
- Cow watching?
- Yes. They have this special breed of cattle in Thailand. They are called Fat White Cows.
- Really? I haven’t heard of that.
- Fat White Cows are huge. In particular their mouths and arses.
- Are they more profitable for farmers than ordinary cows?
- No. Everyone loses money on them.
- So why do they keep them?
- They show up uninvited.
- How strange. Well, I hope to see some nature reserves and islands while I am in Thailand.
- Beware of bad seafood.
- Is that a problem here?
- It can be. In fact I think I smell something now.
Larson leaned forward and sniffed.
- That’s what I thought, said Larson.
- What is it?
- That stench of rotting shrimps. It comes from you.
—
Duff junior feared the worst after speaking to Larson. Duff got dressed and ran down the stairs to the restaurant. He arrived just in time to watch disaster strike.
The sharp sound of a face slap made guests and restaurant staff turn and look at Larson and Duff’s mother. Larson jumped backwards and his chair fell to the floor.
- VIOLENCE! screamed Larson. – THIS WOMAN IS CRAZY! SHE ATTACKED ME!
The restaurant manager walked over to Larson.
- No make noise please, said the manager.
- GET HER OUT OF HERE! SHE IS STEALING OUR BOYS. AND SHE IS DANGEROUS!
- Mr. Lar-san, please quiet.
- YOU ARE ASKING ME TO BE QUIET? I BELONG HERE. SHE DOESN’T!
A group of male staff and a security guard surrounded Larson.
- Mr. Lar-san. Solly but if make noise must go outside, said the manager.
- YOU CAN’T KICK ME OUT. KICK HER OUT! SHE IS THE BAD GUY!
The men grabbed Larson by the arms and pushed him towards the door. Duff’s mother watched calmly while Larson yelled his protests.
Duff junior sat down by the table.
- I see you met Larson, said Duff.
- He is just like you told me, said the mother.
- I can’t watch, said Duff and turned his back to the window. – What are they doing?
- They are by the swimming pool. Larson is arguing with them.
- Oh dear.
- Larson just pushed the manager in the chest.
- And then?
- The manager pushed him back. And Larson pushed again and shouted something. And now… oops!
Splash.
People in the restaurant ran to the windows to see who had fallen in the pool.
Ten seconds later the door to the restaurant opened and a very wet Larson marched in.
- What the hell are you staring at? asked Larson.
Larson left a trail of water on the floor as he walked through the restaurant and the lobby and up the stairs.
- I like this hotel, said Duff’s mother.
July 23rd, 2007 at 10:47 am
hmm Larson.. ok who is calling the Kettle black now?
July 23rd, 2007 at 1:28 pm
Cabaret!!!! haha… glorious Silom, just glorious… A special bread of cows… HAHAHA. I hope I won’t have one of them in the office today, I fear I just might loose my composure…
July 23rd, 2007 at 7:11 pm
bitter postmenopausal man-hating bitch - hehehehe
July 23rd, 2007 at 9:01 pm
Oh the irony, old woman comes to Bangkok and claims she is there to clean things up…while she is engaged in her own affair….
Nothing like moving right in…right into the center of all your sons friends…
SF, you have got yourself a situation that you can run with in many different directions….
Why not a chapter from Lek’s perspective?
July 23rd, 2007 at 9:56 pm
“I like this hotel” — ha ha! SF, you are obviously on a roll!!
July 24th, 2007 at 2:43 am
I can see you’re having fun with this.
I can just imagine you chuckling to yourself as you wrote it. And again as you posted it up to the web.
Good on ya