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Viva The Good Guys!


The Gentleman Scamp

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It had been another hellraising Saturday night...

Internet, followed by a walk home in the spitting rain to eat smashed up spud and tuna whilst watching a shark documentary on Discovery (in Thai no less).

The following morning I had some private business tuition and after waking up, fresh as a daisy I might add (oh yes, Scampy sleeps these days) - to my horror I realised that I had put my black, tailormade pinstripe work trousers in the laundry.

Rushing down to reception I was soon informed that the laundry boys had just left five minutes earlier and that I was too late.

What was I going to do? My olive green trousers were fine as kindergarten teacher attire but not for this.

The young man at reception who I don't see much of as he clocks off at 7am, produced a motorbike key and invited me to join him on his Honda Wave and off we went down backalleys in the morning sunshine to find the laundry depot and track down my strides.

To my surprise they were already washed and dry but crumpled.

Back at the apartment I thanked the receptionist - who incedentally had refused a drink from 7-Eleven, let alone a 20bt tip - and I got dressed as best as I could in the only shirt I had available. A jet black one with a wide collar and gold cufflinks that I'd owned for two years and worn as many times.

After doing up my tie, I pulled on a crumpled and mouldy pair of knee length shorts and put on my leather, flat toed, ankle high business shoe/boots and after a quick polish with the previous day's boxers, I made my way to the end of my soi with the trousers in a bag only to discover that the ironing shop had yet to open.

The internet man (the guy sitting at his desk to my left) was outside sliding up his shutter and I asked him, using a combination of body language and Thai so broken that it was beyond repair, if he knew when the shop opened.

Using body language he explained that he had an iron and would do them for me and I could pick them up in fifteen.

What a result, I waited around - much to the amusement of the local early risers - I looked like a mafia boss/movie star who had borrowed some shorts off a tramp.

Internet man also didn't want anything in return so I let him keep the change after logging on here yesterday morning.

It was a long, hard days work but when it ends on a bus with a phonecall from your new student thanking you again for building her confidence and tweaking her pharmaceutical conference speech and another from your new boss saying she has had some good feedback and wants to open a bank account for me, then all the agro, boredom, worry, poverty and UBC seems almost worth it. :o

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Nice story. I've never been refused any kind of help I've asked for in Thailand. Never. I've found that if you are polite and don't lose your temper, Thais will go out of their way to help you, if requested....At least where I've lived. And I always made sure to encourage such help in the future by making sure I show some form of appreciation later... Tham Dee, Dai Dee..:o

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When I first arrived in Bkk, I went looking for a guesthouse where a friend was staying. I had a name and address, but no directions. I went down to Khao San road to look around for the place, but nobody I asked had heard of the place. Finally, a middle-aged lady I showed the card to said she would help me find my friend. She took my hand, and proceeded to lead me around the sois near Khao San...We walked for an hour before it finally dawned on me that this lady was just as clueless as I was-- the blind leading the blind. But she wanted SO much to help me, only relying on faith and desire to help me find my friend's GH... And she would surely have continued to try, had I not dropped from exhaustion.

It was a great introduction to the Heart of Thailand :o

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