Gay Boy Thailand

You are cheating

I saw a foreigner go bananas over a taxi in Soi Langsuan. This was around 6 pm, the rush hour when it can be hard to find a taxi.

This foreigner came with an entourage of Thais. I was already looking for a taxi and now he was too. And then a Thai guy appeared and joined the search.

People don’t line up for taxies in Bangkok. It is every man for himself. I have given up expecting any fairness or any first-come-first-served system. But I could tell the Thai was looking for a motorbike taxi. I was looking for a car taxi.

From the accent I could tell the farang was from England, the country where orderly queuing is a cornerstone of civilisation. When he saw the Thai guy go in front of him he became angry. He ran after the Thai guy, went right up to his face and bumped him with his chest. It was like two penguins fighting, chest to chest.

The Thai guy was a middle class type, dressed in office clothes. He was surprised and didn’t understand what the farang was so mad about. The Thai guy took several steps back and the farang followed, doing another chest bump.

The Thai asked in English what the problem was. The farang accused him of cheating in line for taxies. The Thai said he was looking for a motorbike. The farang said fine, you can have them.

A motorbike taxi stopped in front of me. When the Thai came over to me to use it (out of hearing range of the angry farang), I apologised on behalf of farandom and said the foreigner was crazy. The Thai said never mind and shook his head and smiled.

I gave up finding a taxi and walked home. It was five kilo-met, as the Thais say.

—

I stopped for a rest in Cofee World near the Patpong entrance. I had a baguet with egg and bacon. As usual the two best tables, near the front where you can watch the street life, were taken by street vendors. These female vendors have stalls outside. They never buy anything in Coffee World. They just come in and spread their stuff around and use the place as their VIP Lounge.

One table had these vendor ladies sitting there, talking on their phones, reading the newspaper and being loud. Another window table only had plastic bags on it, put there by the vendors to mark it as occupied.

I asked the waiter if that table was available.
- Someone sitting there, said the waiter.
- But they are not customers, I said.
I made a shoo-shoo movement with my hands.
The waiter made that dismissive head movement Thais do and rolled his eyes. This indicated he did not like them either.

I sat down at another table, one without a view.

The vendor ladies had noticed what I had said. One of them gave me long, hostile stares.

I had my meal and left. But the tone of the place had changed. A charged silence accompanied me when I walked past the street people. There was an element of insecurity in the air too. Had they noticed the waiter’s eye roll? Had they realised they were not completely welcome to invade the place?

Of course the vendors would think I was upset on my own behalf only. They would think I wanted a window table. I did, but what really was annoying was the principle of the thing. Here they come in from the street, buy nothing, act loudly, and hurt someone’s business by monopolising the best tables day after day.

The waiters are younger and don’t dare say anything to this obnoxious gang of women. Have to admire their nerve. These women even bring laptop computers so they can use the free Wi-Fi in the restaurant, demanding the staff help them log in.

Who are they? Some of these “My husband is a policeman so I can do whatever I want” kind of women?

What they need is a foot in their fat rear ends.