Slim Chance

Get a load of this:

I went on a visa run, on the 18th of this month, same day as John Charlesworth, self-proclaimed real man and proud subject of the English queen.

Having already finished the bag full of warm cans of beer that he had spilled boarding the mini-van in the morning, Mr. Charlesworth replenished his supply and, additionally, bought a bottle of ‘Johnny Walker Red’ (the quality stuff made out back of the duty-free shop, comes in plastic bottles), which he was quite proud of. This provided fuel for the long trip back.

Within the first hour of the return trip Mr. Charlesworth had commandeered the stereo system and made sure we all didn’t fall off to sleep and could share in a great time together listening to that lovely Gangsta Rap music of the late 90’s -at full volume. Same stuff my son used to listen to at 14.

Then he turned his attention to a young lady who he very aggressively insisted should drink ‘Johnny Walker Red’ with him. Generous chap. When, for the third time, she politely refused his kind offer, Mr. Charlesworth did what any real man would do and abused her by telling her how ugly she was and how people of her nationality were all a bunch of very dirty words, too numerous to mention. This warmed him up and he was soon attempting to terrorize the man sitting closest to him who had made the mistake of not agreeing with him, was firm in that he had no interest in talking to him or being ’friends’, and refused to shake his hand.

Then Mr. Charlesworth became agitated and things got a little crazy in the mini-van. While making patriotic speeches regarding the general greatness of Great Britain and it’s great citizenry while cursing, first and foremost the Americans, who think that they’re better than everyone else, drop bombs, and are not very friendly, but he eventually got around to hating pretty much everyone in general.

He was quite large, far taller than anyone else in the van, and was up swinging his fists around wanting to; ‘go man-to-man’. He managed to lose his already consumed ‘JWR’ (on his own shoes) and his trousers within a minute of each other. He was showing his Great British ass both figuratively and literally.

To make an already too-long story (possibly the longest 4 hours of my life) less long, let me say that we finally left Mr. Charlesworth on the side of the highway after he threatened to put a knife in the neck of a lady, not the ugly unfriendly American but a Thai lady, and declared that he was going to ‘put the drivers head through the window, crash the bus, and take out everybody‘. As the van pulled away from him, he was running alongside it trying to smash out it’s windows with his fists.

I suspected that gangsta rap was bad for you, but….

Incidentally! I’ve followed the story on the charming Mr. Charlesworth and learned, if my facts are correct-- I’ve no reason to doubt them-- that he has been in Thailand for 16 years. He claims to teach English, is fluent in the Thai language, and says he ’can’t return to England‘. After living at the ’Crown’ on Sukhumwit Soi 23 for the last 9 months, he checked out at 6 a.m. the morning after the visa run shenanigan; just before the detectives arrived to speak to him. He left no forwarding address.

Sure wish I knew how to find him. We could have a drink for old times sake.

What would happen if a foreigner behaved like that in London?

I went on a visa run, it was exactly one week ago, on the same day as John Charlesworth, self-proclaimed real man and proud subject of the English queen.

I had purposely chosen a company that didn’t advertise free beer or casino buffets, thinking the group would be sedate and problem free. I was almost right. Company was fast and professional, we made good time, no line, no waiting.

Ah, but then there was that Mr. Charlesworth…

Having already finished the bag full of warm cans of beer that he had spilled boarding the mini-van in the morning, Mr. Charlesworth replenished his supply and, additionally, bought a bottle of ‘Johnny Walker Red’ (the quality stuff made out back of the duty-free shop, comes in plastic bottles), which he was quite proud of. This provided fuel for the long trip back.

Within the first hour of the return trip Mr. Charlesworth had commandeered the stereo system and made sure we all didn’t fall off to sleep and could share in a great time together listening to that lovely Gangsta Rap music of the late 90’s -at full volume. Same stuff my son used to listen to at 14.

Then he turned his attention to a young lady who he very aggressively insisted should drink ‘Johnny Walker Red’ with him. Generous chap. When, for the third time, she politely refused his kind offer, Mr. Charlesworth did what any real man would do and abused her by telling her how ugly she was and how people of her nationality were all a bunch of very dirty words, too numerous to mention. This warmed him up and he was soon attempting to terrorize the man sitting closest to him who had made the mistake of not agreeing with him, was firm in that he had no interest in talking to him or being ’friends’, and refused to shake his hand.

Then Mr. Charlesworth became agitated and things got a little crazy in the mini-van. While making patriotic speeches regarding the general greatness of Great Britain and it’s great citizenry while cursing, first and foremost the Americans, who think that they’re better than everyone else, drop bombs, and are not friendly, but he eventually got around to hating pretty much everyone in general.

He was quite large, far taller than anyone else in the van, and was up swinging his fists around wanting to; ‘go man-to-man’. He managed to lose his already consumed ‘JWR’ (on his own shoes) and his pants within a minute of each other.

To make an already too-long story -possibly the longest 4 hours of my life- less long, let me say that we finally left Mr. Charlesworth on the side of the highway after he threatened to put a knife in the neck of a lady, not the ugly unfriendly American but a Thai lady, and was saying that he was going to ‘put the drivers head through the window, crash the bus, and take out everybody‘. As the van pulled away he was running alongside it trying to smash out it’s windows with his fists.

I knew that gangsta rap was bad for you, but….

Incidentally! I’ve followed the story on the charming Mr. Charlesworth I’ve learned that he has been in Thailand for 16 years. He claims to teach English, is fluent in the Thai language, and says he ’can’t return to England‘. After living at the ’Crown’ on Sukhumwit Soi 23 for 9 months, he checked out at 6 a.m. the morning after the visa run shenanigan; just before the detectives arrived to speak to him. He left no forwarding address.

Sure wish I knew how to find him. We could have a drink for old times sake.

Yeah, there is still a lotta warmth here when you get outta the tourist areas. My ‘P.S.’ was intended to be provocative in light of all the negative things being said.

May I add as one who has driven cabs in NYC that the scamming of foreigners in that, the taxi industry, is universal. While most honest drivers want to get in and out of the airports as fast as possible, there is an ever-present group of con-men who would sit for hours at the international arrivals, waiting to victimize an arriving foreigner. It was common knowledge that most of the ones doing this in the 80’s were themselves, Russian and Israeli immigrants.

I thought I knew the price of a taxi from the airport until one night a driver delivered me to Sukhumwit for 138 baht and no tolls.

I’m a brand new poster and I wanted to get a cool little picture like you other’s have before popping my cherry but I’m so dumbfounded by these confessions that I have to dive in, little picture or no, and add my 2 cents worth…

It seems to me there’s a psychological need to be ripped-off, victimized, etc,. How else to explain these tales?

Working as a doorman at a night-club in the states in a tourist area, I became familiar with the street hustlers preying on the gullible and attempted to keep them run off of ‘my’ block. I went so far as to boldly tell many knuckle-heads that I saw being set-up that they were, without any doubt, being set up and they better keep their money in their pockets and find another friend. Never once did I manage to get a one to heed my words. If anything they’d get angry at me as I tried to warn them about their new-found friend now directing them to the nearest ATM. Then, half an hour later, I’d see them pacing up and down the street in frantic search of that new friend--and the cash--that’d disappeared into the night.

One night I half-carried a falling-down drunk from Nana to his hotel on Sukhumwit. I literally scooped him up off the street, explaining to him that he was a pigeon about to be plucked by the sleazy old hooker and the lady-boy ‘befriending’ him and following close behind us, calling out to him; as I kept telling them to get the *%#+ away from him. When I got him outside his hotel, he thanked me for my help, shook my hand, and as I turned around to walk away, he jumped in a cab and rode away with the two of them.

I’ve been falling down drunk many times, but never that drunk. He WANTED to be their victim.

20 years ago in a Thai restaurant with an attached go-go club, I had some dining ‘ladies’ sit near me at a large table, strike up a conversation, eat, and then disappear just as my check arrived. I looked at it and smelled a rat, at least three of them. After calmly arguing with the manager over the amount on my bill, he called the cops. I stood my ground; they weren’t my ladies, I didn’t know them, hadn’t ordered for them, I wasn’t paying. Where were they? Cops seemed to take the establishments side and gave me dirty looks. I didn’t get excited, but I didn’t give in. When, after 10 minutes or so, it became obvious I wouldn’t be suckered, the cops shrugged and left. I got up and followed them out and walked away.

I could rattle off a dozen more stories but I’ll spare you. Just remember what your Mama said-’DON’T talk to strangers’, keep your money in your pocket and make sure the taxi’s meter is on.

P.S. Can anyone remember when Thais were warm hospitable and always insisted on picking up the tab? Somebody sure messed this country up.