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The Lady With The Eyebrows Has Relocations
Phuket, Thailand.
“Why don’t you visit tomorrow and I’ll prepare you lunch,” she asked, while clearing the empty plates and wiping down my table.
“I thought tomorrow’s your day of rest?”
“I suggest to my location, not the dining establishment. It’s simply a room, but I have a little electrical stove that I use on the balcony. I can prepare pad krapow moo for you.”
“Possibly,” I said. “However let’s go get some beverages tonight.”
Living in Thailand was altering me into a category of male that I never thought I ‘d be. Though it’s also a category of male that’s so incredibly foreign and unreasonable that it’s become downright interesting for me to observe. I happily enjoy myself as if I were seeing some mindless simulation in a video game. What’s he going to do now?! What zany adventure will befall him next?!
The classification of guy that I mention is the kind that gets his waitress at a little, open-air dining establishment beside his gym in an alleyway in Patong, Phuket, and after that sleeps with her.
Though I didn’t suggest to pick her up or sleep with her. We were just making breezy conversation about my favorite Thai dishes and the ones that she was proficient at cooking. It was a late afternoon on a Tuesday throughout low season, therefore the restaurant was empty and Phuket was uncharacteristically peaceful. The residents were easy, practically tired, almost miserable, and in need of social interaction. Everything happened so organically.
She was my waitress– the only waitress, actually, because 10-seater joint– in her early twenties with chunky hair, soft functions and fair skin that revealed her Chinese origins. She dressed fashionably in denim black joggers and matching black V-neck, an only bra strap teasingly exposed, with trendy, tortoise-shell glasses well balanced precariously on the idea of her nose. She was put together well with the exception of her unnaturally thick eyebrows, in proportion and too arched, that were relatively drawn on with a broad, felt-tip marker, the kind with the excessive fumes. They were too extravagant to be an error, and she was too impressive otherwise, so I assume they were a brand-new pattern that I was unaware of.
“You’re not from here,” I said. She didn’t fit the profile of the other locals.
“Chiang Mai,” stated Eyebrows. “I’m new, though. Eight months.”
“So how come there’s no excellent pad krapow moo in Phuket?” I asked her. Pad krapow moo– holy basil pork– was my dish of choice that I would take in every day in Thailand. Often twice. Always with a fried egg.
“All the great chefs moved to Bangkok to open restaurants and Phuket’s stuck to the leftovers. The cook here is okay, however I’m much better. He will not let me touch anything, though. Maybe in a couple of months.”
“You like to prepare?”
“Hey, I’m from fucking Chiang Mai– I can cook anything!”
Eyebrows had an edge to her that was too audacious for a Thai woman, who are normally meek and scheduled while the sun’s still up. I chalked it approximately her living in Patong Beach, where she must be hit on numerous times a day by inebriated, obnoxious immigrants on vacation. (Luckily, I wasn’t any of these things at this uncommon moment.) The joint was empty so she sat and talked while I ate, about her household in Chiang Mai, her uncle’s restaurant that we were sitting at, and how she believes she was adopted because she’s a “beach, not mountain, lady.” I finished my pad krapow moo and she cleared the dishes.
“Why don’t you visit tomorrow and I’ll prepare you lunch?”
Unusual– I never ever got this kind of invitation previously, especially from someone in the service market. This need to be the deal in Phuket: it’s ordinary for the waitresses to date the clients. This shit would not fly in Bangkok, or anywhere else in the world.
“Possibly,” I said. “However let’s go get some beverages tonight.”
Eyebrows left work at 9pm. I left my motorcycle at my hotel and walked back to her uncle’s dining establishment, in the alleyway beside my gym. She seemed shorter than before, however the eyebrows were the same. We walked a few blocks north to Bangla Roadway, quite perhaps the most dreadful street in all of Southern Thailand (intoxicated travelers, Rangsit dating undesirable promotes, thumping and flashing brilliant lights techno), however we remained in the state of mind for live music, and Bangla Road was the location to get it.
We hopped from bar to bar on the main pedestrian drag, struggling to discover a location that matched our mood. Some places were too sports-barry, while others were too Russian hookery. Bangla Road has actually evolved dramatically over the previous years because I first came here, the most staggering change being the white backpacker women who are now handing out flyers for the Pussy Reveals, seemingly trying to fund their extended trip, while their local teenage managers lorded over them with 50 baht notes. How the tables have actually turned.
I stuck to shitty mojitos (due to the fact that there are no excellent mojitos on Bangla) and Eyebrows downed shot after shot of tequila.
“I don’t truly like to consume,” she stated. “My secret is, I simply have 4 or 5 of these, and after that I benefit the night.”
“If anybody has 4 or five of those, they benefit the night. That’s a dumb secret,” I said.
“You’re dumb,” she stated.
So Eyebrows consumed her tequila and I consumed my mojitos and we wound up unavoidably drunk and inevitably constructing out in the corner of that huge beer hall at the entrance of Bangla, the one with the complete stage and live music. There was a Filipino cover band with each band member dressed from a different category: a Bob-Marley lookalike on skins, a stunning goth chick on bass, and a flamboyant, androgynous diva in a red velvet jumpsuit with a cigarette mustache and slicked back hair. He was all over the location, blending pop music from Michael Bublé to Beyoncé to YMCA.
Eyebrows took her sixth shot of Cuervo and I changed to San Miguel Light to hydrate.
“What should we do now?” I slurred.
“We can go around the corner to the other bar, or go eat moo ping,” she used.
“You understand what I want to do?”
“What?”
“I wish to find a place to put down with you.”
I selected my words thoroughly so as to not come off creepy, but then came off even creepier than if I had simply said, Let’s go someplace and fuck. “I wish to discover a location to lay down with you” has a weird, morbid undertone to it, does not it? Like, “I want to put down with your still-warm corpse …”
“Okay.”
We talked about the logistics: we could not go to my hotel since all guests were forbidden. We were in Patong, Phuket, after all, and hotels didn’t desire the danger of unregistered hookers running around, taking toilet tissue and Rangsit dating stabbing their clients. And Eyebrows lived in a female-only dorm room where guests weren’t allowed after sundown.
“There need to be a love hotel,” she stated. We roamed the blocks surrounding Bangla Roadway, littered with hotels and motels and hostels, looking for any indication that they charged hourly rates like in Tokyo. No such luck. We asked the front desk of one of the mid-range hotels, and they offered us a disgusted and suspicious (dispicious?) appearance and said, Mai mee– sold out! then shooed us out. We were reluctant to try that again.
“How could you not know of any?” I asked her. “It’s alright that you have actually done this previously. I’m fine with it.”
“What kind of lady do you think I am?” she stated. Well …
“Let’s simply go to my hotel,” I stated, defeated. “I’ll simply pay for another visitor.”
We went to my hotel and, thankfully, the front desk was unmanned. I quickly ushered Eyebrows to the elevator and we snuck up to my space on the 17th floor, kissing in the elevator and corridors along the method. We swiftly got and undressed into bed where we had regular sex till the end, when Eyebrows needed to carry out an extraordinary ending up move in order to trigger her own orgasm. We rested and she performed her maneuver again, with surgical precision and consistency, and we came all at once and violently, like some made-up scene in a shitty Hollywood film.
We awakened in the middle of the night, tangled, not knowing where one body ended and the other began. Eyebrows put her clothing on and I bid farewell to her at my door rather of the lobby.
The next day, I relocated to a hotel in downtown Phuket, away from the traveler areas and closer to my coworking workplace. Eyebrows didn’t appear surprised. “Okay, well it was good to meet you,” she messaged.
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