The rocks of despair

Kanchanaburi, 22 Febr. 2014.

I watch Miss Nit enjoying spicy and well cooked Som Yam Khung with steamed rice, eating around the favorable lemon grass, kaffir lime leaves and galangal roots, picking them out of her bowl with indifinite care, bit by bit arranging them on a seperate plate in a nice heap somehow worth photographing for the folks back home or those 2000 plus followers, ahum ahum, I am supposed to have on FB, her cilliconed nose and purple eyes sacks still bearing obvious signs of the female brawl she was in a few days ago back at that Sok Ka Prok watering hole where the local Hot Momma scene is hard to believe, even for an old crazy Farang hand like me...

I try hard to ignore the two English lagerlouds at the next table, young and guileable, apparently having just arrived from Bangkok, their talk full with sexual inuendoes about the Nana Plaza, Soi Cowboy Go-Go bars. They both look like shit, unshaved and desperately in need of a hot shower, a total mess and unless they put themselves together they might well end up in the gutter...maybe their intentions for Kanchanaburi have Nada and nothing to do admiring the world famous Death Bridge across the river Kwai but all with a much needed rest and relaxation after cavoting with Isan born bar girls in the Thai capital. Good work of personal private eye investagation on their part I would say...

Thailand can do that to first time male Farangs, the bar scene luring them into a life of false promises it fails to deliver, great looking women, sexy and cute, cold beer and sunny weather, tasty food and "crooked" smiles, all of it a mirage, nothing to it but an illusion, doesn't really exist, in case you didn't realise it, so sorry to shatter your newly found ego and self confidence but you are running for the rocks, about to crash, money gone and Pas De Filles Jolies Locales mates...

They are like sirens whose melodious singing and promising Asian dark colored shiners pull us the Farangs in all the way to utter and irreversible destruction...

But then who am I to judge these two young English blokes who by the looks and souds have obviously been slandering their hard earned dough at the Isan born clan of females and have come to Kanchanaburi to get their act together, been there, done that...

The rocks of despair are no stranger to me...pondering, pondering while Miss Nit is happily devouring her Som Yam Khung, knocking down her cold Heineken like there is no tomorrow, after all it is yours truely who is paying the bill, Pauvre Moi quite literally soon to be...