So the new year’s been rollin’ in gentle like. Cool weather. Less aggro. Me takin’ it easy for once. And instead of perchin’ meself on the usual bar stool at me local like a pub gargoyle, I decide to do somethin’ radical and head down to the beach at dusk. Bit of sand. Bit of sea air. Give the liver a breather.

So I’m wanderin’ down Beach Road mates when Pattaya immediately reminds me exactly where I am.

First up, I pass an Indian git lookin’ like he’s just lost an argument with physics and a ladyboy. Shirt all twisted. One eye squintin’, a nip of blood on the temple. Gold neck chain mysteriously vanished he's moanin'. Reckon he was makin' his way over to the cop shop to file one.

Couple of minutes later I clock two Arab mugs further down havin’ a proper set to. Not wild swings, just that tight angry grabby sort of scrap. One of them’s pointin’ at a motorbike like it’s personally betrayed him. Could be money. Could be ego. Could be PCX envy. Fek nose.

I keep walkin’. Eyes forward. Not my rodeo.

I hit the sand just as the sky starts doin’ that soft orange fade thing. Sit meself down, bag beside me, shoes off, sippin’ some cold olong tea from seven, just listenin’ to the water and feelin’ smug about survivin’ another day in paradise without endin’ up in a state, again...

Then along come these two lasses.

Already half cut. You can hear it in the laughs before you even see ’em. One of them is alright, a bit portly. The other one stops you from thinkin’ altogether. Not your standard Pattaya look. Proper fit. Athletic lookin'. No flab anywhere. Long shiny black hair nearly down to her waist. Big almond eyes. No tats. Skin like she’s never met a fryer. The sort of girl who makes you double check you’re not accidentally sittin’ in the wrong country.

They wobble past me, gigglin’, and next thing I know the tasty one clips me bag and goes down like a dropped dumpling.

Straight into me lap.

We both freeze for half a second. Then she cracks up laughin’. Big open laugh. I laugh too because what else you gonna do. She throws her arms round me neck like I’ve just saved her from drownin’ rather than gravity.

Apologies all round. Still laughin’. Still close. Booze does that.

We get talkin’. The usual easy chat. Where you come from. How long you stay here. Reveals she’s got a boyfriend back home. Or here. Or somewhere. Hard to pin down. Says they’re havin’ problems. Says maybe we hang out tonight. Nothing heavy. Just said casual. But her eyes are swimmin’. Not tipsy. Proper drunk.

I clock the signs quick.

First off, I already had a rub and tug earlier over by Buakhao and I’m not entirely convinced there’s another round left in me chamber.

Second, drunk girls with boyfriend drama are a full time job with unpaid overtime.

So I smile. Keep it light. Say another time maybe, love. She nods like she understands. She grabs me phone, adds me on LINE, gives me a quick squeeze, and staggers off with her mate down the sand. Probably won’t remember me anyway.

I sit there a bit longer. Sky goin’ purple. Sea slappin’ about quietly.

I check the LINE contact once. Do not open it. But do not delete it either.

Behind me someone’s shoutin’ again. Somewhere else a motorbike taxi driver is bein’ chased by a soi dog.

And I’m just sat there thinkin’ how funny it is that the one time some high quality growler actually lands right in your lap, you stand up, brush the sand off your shorts and out your bum, and decide you’ve had enough excitement for one evening'.

So I sling me bag over me shoulder, head back inland, and leave the beach to the drinkers, the fighters, and the romantics who still think tonight’s gonna fix everything.

Bless them.

Lewie out.

Thankyou my dear fellow

1 hour ago, Lewie London said:

So the new year’s been rollin’ in gentle like. Cool weather. Less aggro. Me takin’ it easy for once. And instead of perchin’ meself on the usual bar stool at me local like a pub gargoyle, I decide to do somethin’ radical and head down to the beach at dusk. Bit of sand. Bit of sea air. Give the liver a breather.

So I’m wanderin’ down Beach Road mates when Pattaya immediately reminds me exactly where I am.

First up, I pass an Indian git lookin’ like he’s just lost an argument with physics and a ladyboy. Shirt all twisted. One eye squintin’, a nip of blood on the temple. Gold neck chain mysteriously vanished he's moanin'. Reckon he was makin' his way over to the cop shop to file one.

Couple of minutes later I clock two Arab mugs further down havin’ a proper set to. Not wild swings, just that tight angry grabby sort of scrap. One of them’s pointin’ at a motorbike like it’s personally betrayed him. Could be money. Could be ego. Could be PCX envy. Fek nose.

I keep walkin’. Eyes forward. Not my rodeo.

I hit the sand just as the sky starts doin’ that soft orange fade thing. Sit meself down, bag beside me, shoes off, sippin’ some cold olong tea from seven, just listenin’ to the water and feelin’ smug about survivin’ another day in paradise without endin’ up in a state, again...

Then along come these two lasses.

Already half cut. You can hear it in the laughs before you even see ’em. One of them is alright, a bit portly. The other one stops you from thinkin’ altogether. Not your standard Pattaya look. Proper fit. Athletic lookin'. No flab anywhere. Long shiny black hair nearly down to her waist. Big almond eyes. No tats. Skin like she’s never met a fryer. The sort of girl who makes you double check you’re not accidentally sittin’ in the wrong country.

They wobble past me, gigglin’, and next thing I know the tasty one clips me bag and goes down like a dropped dumpling.

Straight into me lap.

We both freeze for half a second. Then she cracks up laughin’. Big open laugh. I laugh too because what else you gonna do. She throws her arms round me neck like I’ve just saved her from drownin’ rather than gravity.

Apologies all round. Still laughin’. Still close. Booze does that.

We get talkin’. The usual easy chat. Where you come from. How long you stay here. Reveals she’s got a boyfriend back home. Or here. Or somewhere. Hard to pin down. Says they’re havin’ problems. Says maybe we hang out tonight. Nothing heavy. Just said casual. But her eyes are swimmin’. Not tipsy. Proper drunk.

I clock the signs quick.

First off, I already had a rub and tug earlier over by Buakhao and I’m not entirely convinced there’s another round left in me chamber.

Second, drunk girls with boyfriend drama are a full time job with unpaid overtime.

So I smile. Keep it light. Say another time maybe, love. She nods like she understands. She grabs me phone, adds me on LINE, gives me a quick squeeze, and staggers off with her mate down the sand. Probably won’t remember me anyway.

I sit there a bit longer. Sky goin’ purple. Sea slappin’ about quietly.

I check the LINE contact once. Do not open it. But do not delete it either.

Behind me someone’s shoutin’ again. Somewhere else a motorbike taxi driver is bein’ chased by a soi dog.

And I’m just sat there thinkin’ how funny it is that the one time some high quality growler actually lands right in your lap, you stand up, brush the sand off your shorts and out your bum, and decide you’ve had enough excitement for one evening'.

So I sling me bag over me shoulder, head back inland, and leave the beach to the drinkers, the fighters, and the romantics who still think tonight’s gonna fix everything.

Bless them.

Lewie out.

You must have the best dreams. All crapola and lies.

Lewdie dik dribbling again, gotta drop off shortly.!

1 hour ago, theshu25 said:

You must have the best dreams. All crapola and lies.

It's called FICTION. John Steinbeck did a lot of it; you should try some.

Thank you Lewie - much better when not giving life style advice.

Thanks, Lewie! You've done it again!

Another delightful slice of life as seen through the L.L. eyes! Good story to read over another good start-the-day breakfast. A mug of English Breakfast tea and a Lewie London story is the perfect way to get my mornings off to a good start!
Keep 'em coming, Lewie!

3 hours ago, Olmate said:

Lewdie dik dribbling again, gotta drop off shortly.!

Hopefully won't be too long before you drop off ...how long now do you think?

3 hours ago, theshu25 said:

You must have the best dreams. All crapola and lies.

I thought I read on one of your posts a few years ago you were dying ?

Still going

Somehow I am a little disappointed. I was expecting your bag missing, you out of money, no key to your room and looking for a roof over your head for the night. Something like that......

Keep us updated how the next meeting with your new friend goes, and put a pic up from her. So we know if she matches your description.

5 hours ago, georgegeorgia said:

I thought I read on one of your posts a few years ago you were dying ?

Still going

We are all dying.

21 hours ago, georgegeorgia said:

Hopefully won't be too long before you drop off ...how long now do you think?

Long enough to buy you a gladioli for your retirement piss up at Nirun,.(PS.. your not nice when u joke about the grim reaper, stop it now!) 🆗https://media.tenor.com/4xms37KIStIAAAAM/death-grim-reaper.gif https://media.tenor.com/4xms37KIStIAAAAM/death-grim-reaper.gif