A Pattaya Trip Advisor would never advise!!!
Rosta Remembers And I Listen Agog
Last night (Soi 6) I had the pleasure of seeing James Bond (aka Jimmie) in action in Pattaya. He is Rosta’s dear friend and he got his ankle broken last year by another tourist who had been eating yaba. James has returned to Pattaya for a long stint and despite having a chest condition, he was in such fine form last night that he treated his friends and foes to a sight of his sixty-nine-year-old weapon at the ready. Jimmie is one of those phenomena who occasionally hit the Pattaya scene and drop jaws because a) 50+ cigarettes a day; b) 25 whiskey cokes on occasions; c) black or red ant eater (a derivative of Viagra); and d) he should be dead. He limps, he is bent over, he coughs but he is alive. His regular lady sold her food-stall and asked Jimmie to support her. They have not spoken since. When James gets back to Manchester in the U of K, he will stop drinking, continue smoking, work on cars on the side, and save up for his next trip over.
This morning I sat down in Rosta’s kitchen on the dark side of Pattaya, and to the grumbling zing of very close-by electric cables we jotted down some of my omissions which Rosta would like me to put into the sequel to “Sexy Thai Bar Girls And Me / Sex Adventures In Asia”*. Now it is well known that Rosta’s view of Pattaya is not optimistic. Most of the episodes he related this morning would not appear in any tourist brochure and Trip Advisor would probably hire an assassin to murder the guy. He wanted me to remember an incident in which a lady threatened to do my head in with her stiletto shoe and held said shoe as a weapon while telling me to disappear.
He wanted me to remember Gan behind a palm tree, holding a catapult at the ready to fell him with one stone to the irreligious temple. His irreligious temple. He has two. Gan also figured in an episode where the police were almost called. In jealous rage she ripped netting off Rosta’s door. He smiled glumly when he asked me to relate how you can fall asleep with a Thai lady and wake up a few hours later covered in her menstrual blood. Rosta isn’t one to advocate deep relationships in Fun City and the reason is they are dangerous. He thinks we farang must fear for our lives because jealousy and insanity are incipient and if we escape those we may well meet with financial ruin. Rosta himself came close to getting his head done in by a jealous Pole who found Rosta’s phone number on Nit’s contact-list. Rosta had to explain calmly that he was just a friend and that far from beating Rosta up, the jealous Pole might do worse than slapping the treacherous Nit about for a bit.
All those misfits whom I had put out of my mind in a great fit of marvellous memory-loss were rejuvenated. Figuring large was Lenny The King who always had to take his stiletto-heeled and lipstick-rouged new lady to May’s coffee shop in Nirun and parade her for everyone to see. Lenny advertises his superiority complex and his inferiority complex by always saying “I am never wrong.” Then the Mayor Of Nirun, Addie, was mentioned – a guy who now has stomach cancer but in his day made it his mission to lay all the bar girls in Soi Arunothai where Nirun rears its concrete head. Rosta laughed when he told me that Dave, aka Captain Hook, back in Ireland now and not to be released shortly, is also known as the One-Arm Bandit because he has one arm and he robbed Rosta of 100 smackeroos.
Two days ago I got talking to an American nurse by the pool-edge of Nirun. He is going to buy a small condo for 20,000 US dollars but he is not going to tell any of his ladies it is his. He will go away and come back and he will keep his secret close to his chest. He reminded me of myself in 2006 when I purchased my condo in Jomtien and saw a lady there six times. I returned to Europe and she entered the condo with her Thai boyfriend by opening a small window and slender-wristing the lock. No key was required. Walking past reception and security with my television she told everyone it was broken and going for repairs. After a few hours she told everyone my microwave was broken but a smart lady working in the admin office tested it. It worked. She requested “my” lady’s document and her man’s. “In the car. Just a minute…” and the two coasted away to safety. That’s why the guy in Nirun is the owner without telling his ladies the truth. Wise guy! Maybe too wise for his own happiness?
James Bond himself helped a lady get out of debt by buying her motorbike off her and she told him it was his. He paid over the odds and went to claim the vehicle registration document but a friend of the lady told him it was not his. The lady’s friend is Rosta’s oldest and longest female acquaintance in Pattaya. As Rosta says, “They tucked Jimmie up good and proper!”
“It’s rum,” said a gleeful Rosta, “how you’re taking a piss in the a go go lavatory and talking to a naked a go go dancer who is setting her hair or washing her hands.”
Yes, rum indeed.
“You know, Jon,” smiles Rosta.
“No,” I say.
“Give’s a chance.”
“Pattaya is heaving with pleasures — just look at James Bond The Grope — and we’re all on a merry-go-round here but if you fall off and go under you know what, Jon, there’s rottenness underneath and it’s a sewer that will ruin you. Up above great but fire and brimstone under. Don’t fall off, Jon!”
*an Amazon ebook & Createspace paperback