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Posted

I had arrived in Thailand on business with the slightest knowledge of the country or its culture. I had a few days off and a hotel clerk suggested I visit Pattaya, a lovely city by the sea. It sounded like a better idea than battling traffic in Bangkok so I caught a three hour bus ride and arrived in Pattaya shortly before dark. On the bus I met a pleasant 'farang' named Jim who was from England. After hearing that it was my first trip, he insisted on showing me around.

Our first stop was to his watering hole to 'meet the wankas', as he put it. He took me to a back room where his three friends were already in deep conversation debating why Asian women love older men.

"Its the buddhist culture," said John, an Aussie with tattoos covering his entire upper body. When Jim told them that I was a journalist they took the opportunity to share their life stories. John, lifted up his shirt and showed me the various prison tattoos he collected in 'Aust-rail-yala's Finest Institutes', and looking me dead in the eyes said "I'm never going back." He continued to stare at me for a seconds to make sure I understood that he was serious.

"My first wife turned into a feminist," Glen from Manchester expained as he fondled a young Thai teenager bringing him his drink.

"We got into it one night and she fell down a flight of stairs." This must have been an inside joke because the room broke into laughter. "This is my new girl friend, Ping."

"I is Erb fam Finland." Jim's final friend was a tall and lanky Finish man with a scar running the length of neck. "Thai women is nice. I love em. You are do what in Pattaya?", he asked of me?

"Oh, just vacationing, you know. Maybe I will go see a temple or something or smuggle some heroin back into the United States", I said jokingly.

The room grew silent. Four sets of eyes examined me closely. Jim was the first to speak, slowly, he asked of me "How much are you looking to move?"

(to be continued)

Posted

A journalist you say?? writing a peice for who or what publication? Time Mag, Washingon Post, NY Times. Let us know please so we can see and read the finished thing

Posted
On the bus I met a pleasant 'farang' named Jim who was from England. After hearing that it was my first trip, he insisted on showing me around.

Our first stop was to his watering hole to 'meet the wankas', as he put it. He took me to a back room where his three friends were already in deep conversation debating why Asian women love older men.

:o obviously 100% troll but that got a laugh from me. :D

Posted (edited)

There's a thin line between a troll and a novelist.

I think he came down JUST at the right side of that line. :o Please continue!

(though if there is no 'continue' then he reverts to the other side of the line)

Edited by chanchao
Posted

Instead of calling this interesting start to a story off, why not give it a try, and see if the sequel (?) is any good, before we pull out the heavy artillary? Just my thoughts, please feel free to flame me.

Posted

"So, what's the point? Why don't you repost this when you finish the story."

Doh!

Sometimes I wonder why I bother to post at all, but as Weho, I do feel I am doing important public service.

Hey, it might add a bit of suspence and anticipation, blockhead.

Now where is YOUR story then?

Posted
The room grew silent. Four sets of eyes examined me closely. Jim was the first to speak, slowly, he asked of me "How much are you looking to move?"

(to be continued)

I like it, give me another 400 words by Tuesday and I'll shop it around for a book deal,

(see if you can work in some Aliens and The Illuminati), :o

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