So it’s late afternoon and I’m out on me wee bike for a right spin, not headin' anywhere special, just ridin' because the cool air feels lighter than it has in months. Sun startin' to dip, traffic still loud but less angry, that sweet little window where Pattaya almost pretends to be civilized. I’m not rushin'. No plan. Just lettin' the road decide for me.

I’m feelin' decent too. Not buzzed. Not grumpy. One of them rare neutral moods where your brain ain’t shoutin' at you and your shoulders aren’t wound up like a scaffold clamp. Those moments don’t come often here, so when they do you take em and don’t ask questions.

I roll past a bloke on the pavement havin' a full blown meltdown at his phone. Proper finger jabbin' the screen like it owes him money. Whatever app he’s fightin' with is winnin'. He looks seconds away from throwin' it into traffic and blamin' the whole province for it.

Further on there’s a lad on a scooter tryin' to start it by sheer willpower. Kick startin' it like he’s auditionin' for a Muay Thai warm up. Bike says no. He keeps kickin' anyway. Stubbornness is universal.

I pull into me local petrol station, the small one with the uneven concrete and the pumps that beep like they’re tired of livin'. Kill the engine, swing me leg off, stretch me back a bit. Smell of fuel in the air, that sharp metallic tang that sticks in your nose.

As I’m fillin' up I clock her rollin' in from the road. Mid size bike. Clean. Not flashy. She rides like she knows what she’s doin'. No wobble. No drama. Late twenties maybe. Hair tied back. Office clothes under a helmet. Normal. Which already makes her stand out.

She pulls up one pump over, cuts the engine, hops off neat enough. Goes to lean the bike onto the stand and that’s when it happens.

Not a crash. Not a smash. Just that horrible slow tilt you see comin' but can’t stop once it starts. The bike leans too far. Weight shifts. Gravity clocks in for its shift.

She tries to catch it. Loses balance. Down she goes with it in this awkward half fall half sit that’s more embarrassing than painful.

I’m movin' before I think. Drop me petrol cap. Two steps. Grab the bars. Kill switch off. We both get the bike upright again in one clumsy lift. Fuel sloshes. Attendant shouts somethin' unhelpful from the booth, as they do.

She’s fine. No bumps. No bruises. No drama. Just stood there red faced and breathless starin' at the bike like it betrayed her personally.

“You alright” I say.

She nods fast. Laughs once. That laugh you do when your pride’s taken more damage than your body.

“Thank you,” she says. Proper sweet. Looks me in the eye. Not just the quick polite glance. A real one.

We stand there a second too long. That little pause where a moment could turn into somethin' else if you let it.

She says she thought the stand was down. Says it’s been a long day. Mentions traffic. Mentions too much work. Mentions not enough sleep. All the usual stuff people say when they’re still shakin' a bit.

I finish fillin' up. She steadies her bike. Hands still tremblin' just a touch.

She smiles again and says maybe I saved her day. Maybe she owes me a thank you bevie sometime. Light tone. No pressure. Just floatin' it out there.

And for a split second I think yeah maybe. Why not. But then the moment shifts. Petrol station noise rushes back in. Horns. A truck pulls up. Someone revs too hard for no reason.

I nod. Smile back. Tell her no worries. Happens to the best of us. Say ride safe.

She looks a tiny bit surprised. Or maybe that’s just me imaginin' it. Often too hard to tell with moments like that.

She gets back on the bike. This time slow. Careful. Checks the stand twice. Rides off clean.

I finish up. Pay. Put me helmet back on.

As I pull out another scooter stalls behind me and a kid nearly drops a crate of eggs. Life doesn’t pause for sentiment here. It barely notices it happened.

I ride off down the road feelin' oddly calm. No numbers swapped. No what ifs chased. Just did a decent thing for another nice person and let it end where it should.

Thailand’s like that. Sometimes you don’t need a story. You just need to be there when someone tips over and help em back up.

Then you carry on. Another easy day, another easier drama.

Peace out mates.

Oh dear.

She forgot to fill her bike up?

5 hours ago, Lewie London said:

Sometimes you don’t need a story.

This is proof. Excellent description captures the mood; no further plot needed.

having traveled quite a bit i'd say life's like that, you just happened to be in thailand

I think the petrol station attendant will be more annoyed with the 2nd incident of the egg yolk splattering all over the place.

Unless of course it's just left as it is, and the other vehicles comming in will do the auto-clean option and get egg yolk all over their tyres or the underbody of their vehicles.

Seems Lewie and his stories have lost his attraction to the AN membership.

4 minutes ago, emptypockets said:

Seems Lewie and his stories have lost his attraction to the AN membership.

What attraction to what AI cr@p!

4 minutes ago, scottiejohn said:

What attraction to what AI cr@p!

You got that right!.

Bob , you are a magnet to women ,they keep throwing themselves at you ,

Bob a legend in his own time ...

regards worgeordie

3 hours ago, worgeordie said:

Bob a legend in his own time

Bob is only a legend in his own time mind!

Every writer should welcome some positive criticism, so when a Thai bird stops her MB the kickstand goes down before she gets off.

Details matter.

Perhaps he's taking it to heart. Lewie/Bob not been on for a month now, that is not opened a topic. He never just posts even on his own topics just opens them. Perhaps he feels his style of story has become stale. Some were OK, others not but AI gives itself away sooner or later.

6 hours ago, saintdomingo said:

Perhaps he's taking it to heart. Lewie/Bob not been on for a month now, that is not opened a topic. He never just posts even on his own topics just opens them. Perhaps he feels his style of story has become stale. Some were OK, others not but AI gives itself away sooner or later.

Lewie's reputation score is over 6 times his total post count. I don't think I have seen any other member with such a high reputation ratio. That would suggest people really enjoyed his topics. Maybe he got bored with posting on AN. I know, hard to imagine anyone could ever tire of this place.

4 minutes ago, Terrance8812 said:

Lewie's reputation score is over 6 times his total post count. I don't think I have seen any other member with such a high reputation ratio. That would suggest people really enjoyed his topics. Maybe he got bored with posting on AN. I know, hard to imagine anyone could ever tire of this place.

For a starters, Lewie only starts a topic, never comes back to it, and everyone with a brain knows who/what Lewie is.

Secondly, ever wondered why you can't see anymore who gives the "likes"?

10 minutes ago, CallumWK said:

For a starters, Lewie only starts a topic, never comes back to it, and everyone with a brain knows who/what Lewie is.

Secondly, ever wondered why you can't see anymore who gives the "likes"?

Sorry, I don't really understand your point. I was emphasizing the fact that whatever it was that he did, the overall response was exceedingly positive. You're welcome to parse it to fit into whatever narrative that you'd like. But my comment was based on the numbers which reflects the majority of people's opinions.

On 1/14/2026 at 11:01 AM, mikebell said:

This is proof. Excellent description captures the mood; no further plot needed.

Go back to sleep LEWI ( BOBBY ) and don't wake up and tell us about it because we are NOT interested.