Gay Boy Thailand

I got up late. Chalerm and The Prince of Khon Kaen were leaving for class. The maid was milling around.

The maid went for my trash can. She loves my trash can. All kinds of goodies can be in it, for example nearly new magazines she can confiscate and which will end up wrapped in plastic, for sale at Chatuchack market.

I have qualms about her trade. Some magazines lack pages which I have cut out with a paper knife to scan Thai boy models. I feel bad about the unfortunate Thai person buying the magazine 2nd hand only to find that the best part is missing.

To sleep better at night I started ripping the front page off the magazines if pages are missing inside. Then the maid can’t sell them. Who said I am not a concerned non-citizen?

—

I went to the (Almost) No Conspiracy Internet Café. The ladyboy-in-training smiled at me. He had painted his fingernails red.

I wonder about the ladyboy-in-training. What does he do? To play games all day is not a career. Who paid for his little red motorbike? Why is his sister giving me knowing looks?

Someone tapped my shoulder from behind. It was Brown Boy. I haven’t told you about Brown Boy before. He is a friendly chap from the slum who gives me big smiles. I kind of knew him from the soi before I began to see him in the Internet café. But that is all there is to say about Brown Boy. He gave me a big smile on his way out of the Internet café. I wonder if he is gay.

—

I spent a long time in the Internet cafe and when I left The Kid was outside on the pavement despite the late hour. He was in his pyjamas. The Kid knows me because I sometimes eat in the restaurant his parents run. This restaurant is next to the Internet café.

The Kid said something about playing games in the Internet café and pointed at the computers he could see inside. I said I had already been there.

The Kid is four years old. He has a high-pitched voice and an excited way of talking which makes it hard for me to understand what he says.

For a while I could not determine if The Kid was a boy or a girl. He has the face and the voice of a girl, and hair so long he must have saved it up since he was born by refusing to have it cut. But the dad talks about him as “my son” and I guess father knows best.

I would bet a meal or two that The Kid will become a ladyboy, or at least a fem gay boy, when he grows up. It is in his eyes. He is a talkative and cheeky drama queen, dominating his mother. She gives me apologetic smiles when The Kid is bossing everyone around.

I will report back in fifteen years or so how The Kid turned out.

—

Chalerm called me on the phone. He wanted me to buy instant noodles and eggs on my way home. I went to Foodland in Patpong to get it. It was after midnight and few places were still open. I complained to the taxi driver that I had a lazy wife who made me buy groceries. The driver agreed that men should not have to buy groceries.

After Foodland I looked for a restaurant. I decided to try one opposite soi Twilight. Chicken cashew nut had to be a safe choice? They could not mess up that.

They could. The dish was lacking in flavour, watery and unevenly warm in a way that gave away that it has been frozen and heated in a microwave oven. For this gourmet meal they wanted 150 baht, plus 40 baht for a bottle of water.

Been there, tried that, not going back.

—

After eating I hailed a taxi. The driver rolled down the window on the passenger side. I ignored that. It is annoying enough that they want to negotiate, with the electric windows they have now they want you to poke your head in and speak to them before you enter. I refuse to do that and enter through the back door instead.
- To soi X, I said.
- No meter, said the driver.
Before he could say “how much you pay?” I had left his car. He drove on to the main entrance to Patpong. I hoped the cops would chase him off before he found anyone to rip off. Chances are good that they did but I didn’t stick around to watch.

I took another more sensible taxi back to The Mansion. An Indian man in his 50s with a moustache got out of this taxi before I entered it. I asked the driver about the Indian.
- Him go boy bar, said the driver.
- A gay Indian?
- Him say he have Thai girl already now want Thai boy. Him 50-50. Ha ha ha!

Flashing lights on Suriwong road signalled an accident. A motorbike guy was on a stretcher. I tried not to look.

—

Chalerm called several times on the phone, wondering when I would come home. I said “You can sleep. Have a good dream”. This is what Chalerm tells me if I wait for him to come home at night.

Chalerm’s plan to get a room near his university had stalled. He had yet to spend a single night in Thonburi. Instead his supposed roommate and another girl stayed with us.

Chalerm complained about my shopping.
- You buy cup noodle not box! said Chalerm.
- It was all they had, I said.
- And too expensive, said Chalerm.
- It was Foodland Patpong, I said.
- You buy duck egg! said Chalerm. – Can not eat!
- Really?
- Duck egg colour white. Chicken egg colour brown.
- See? It is better if you do the shopping, I said.

Chalerm told the girls about my shopping mistakes and they all laughed without any regard for my dignity.

—

I went to bed while Chalerm and the girls made instant noodles in the kitchen.

This was the end of my day.