Gay Boy Thailand

When Chalerm, the Queen of Si Saket and I came home from the market the boys wanted to try the squid they had bought.
- We cooking in living loom, said Chalerm.
- What? You can’t cook in the living room, I said.
- Can, said Chalerm.
- There is nothing to cook with. Cook in the kitchen.
- You go sleep, said Chalerm.

I didn’t go to sleep but I was behind my computer, doing this blog and not paying much attention to the boys. They were in the kitchen. It smelled like they were frying something. Or it smelled like burned wood. After a while the boys came into the living room with some pots and utensils. I assumed they were going to eat in the sofa by the television.

I looked up in the air. I worried about the fire alarm. The boys had opened the slide doors to the balcony to let fresh air in. It didn’t look too smoke-filled but the smell of something burning was strong.

I was following this from the corner of my eye while writing on the computer. The boys sat down and began their meal.

The phone rang. It was the internal line of the building and Chalerm answered it. He looked serious and he only said “yes yes’ while the person at the other end spoke.
- Who was it? I asked Chalerm.
- Nobody.
- Who?
- Not know.
- Who??
- Never mind.
- Say it. Was it the security guard from downstairs?
- Yes.
- What did he say?
- Not say.
- Tell me, I said in an increasingly annoyed tone. Chalerm sensed he could not avoid an answer.
- Him only asking if we cooking, said Chalerm.
- Cooking?
- Yes.
- Did our neighbours complain about the smell?
- Him not say.

I rose from the computer table to check what the boys were doing. They were grilling squid. What I had thought were pots with food were two ceramic holders with burning coal. They had lit a live fire inside our apartment. Two fires, actually. No wonder it smelled like something was burning.
- I don’t think this is a good idea, I said.

The Queen of Si Saket watched me nervously. He seemed to fear I would explode with anger and get violent. Chalerm, who knew better, wasn’t afraid but he went quiet all of a sudden. He put out the fires and carried the stuff away.

Either someone must have called him, or the security guard must have smelled the fire from his desk, ten stories below. Why did he call our apartment? It had to be us. It is always us.

In the kitchen I saw the boys had bought a sack of coal. So this is what Chalerm had in mind when he said he would cook in the living room. I am sure this grilling scheme works fine in a garden in the village, but in a high rise apartment building in Bangkok it will get us more attention than we need. It was a lesson in urban living for Chalerm.