[Continued from "Thailand, Revisited, Reworked (Part 2)."]

I’m not sure when I had to report to work the first time, but I know I had some time to meet up with my friend, Darren.  I had met Darren the summer before.  He was an Melbournian tram driver who had moved to Bangkok and started a restaurant.  When I first met him I challenged his qualifications for restaurant-running and he had assured me that he was no more qualified than the next guy who loved food.

I fell in love.  Darren was charming and generous and fun.  He was also fabulously gay.  His Australian accent wasn’t too annoying; he didn’t call everyone “mate” and he didn’t sound like a guy from an Australian tourist board commercial.  The Ex and I had enjoyed Darren’s company – and his restaurant – on many occasions.

So when I arrived in Bangkok in the summer of 2001 I went to Darren’s restaurant soon after settling into my new home.  His restaurant called, I kid you not, Eat Me, was also his home.  Architecturally, the building was cool.  It was poured concrete with modern, square lines.  It had black-paned, swing out windows and French doors that opened out to a balcony that took up the entire front of the building’s second floor.

On the balcony there was outdoor furniture where it was pleasant to sit at night, provided mosquitoes didn’t like you too much.  My ankles seemed to be irresistible to the particular species of mosquito that flew around Eat Me, but I still sat on that balcony night after night.  It was nice, especially after the restaurant closed and Darren sat with us, drinking limoncello, or chocolate vodka – which he made by mixing melted chocolate with vodka – or any number of mixed drinks.  Oftentimes the mosquito population wasn’t quite as annoying when I was full of booze and there were geckos on the building’s walls, barking and eating.

Darren greeted me heartily.  It was that second summer in Thailand that Darren and I became very close.  Soon, we began going to gyms together.  Gyms, plural, because we’d purchase day passes at gyms all over the city.  We’d check in, go to our separate locker rooms to change, work out together, and then go to our separate locker rooms.  In my locker room I’d usually get naked so I could sit and relax in the sauna.  I love saunas.  Darren would similarly get naked and go to the sauna, but he didn’t just relax.  We didn’t talk details, but I got the very distinct impression that he more often than not hooked up with random strangers in the locker room.  We both left the gyms very refreshed.

With letting Darren know I was in town out of the way, I met up with another friend, Mickey.  I had also met Mickey the summer before.  He was an American law school student who was in the same study abroad program.  Actually, he had practiced law for years, and was returning for an LL.M. with an international law concentration.  After the summer program in 2000, Mickey completed his LL.M. at Golden Gate University School of Law, where Jesús happened to be getting his law degree.  A Master of Laws takes only one school year so after he finished up his schooling in San Francisco, he returned to Bangkok.

By the time I arrived in Bangkok, Mickey was well-ensconced in an apartment with his boyfriend, a Thai man-boy many years Mickey’s junior.  He was many years my junior and Mickey was significantly older than I.  Mickey was so old he had worked as an extra on early episodes of “Happy Days” which began the year after I was born.

On the second day I was in Bangkok I visited Mickey at his apartment, which was in a high rise.  I met his boyfriend, who seemed to do little more than sit around the apartment.  He was happy to meet me because I was someone other than Mickey.  The boyfriend had moved from his little town to Bangkok to be with Mickey and had few, if any, friends in the city, which was understandably huge and scary to him.

I was itching to go out and so was the boyfriend.  We’ll call him Ait.  Thais tend to have long names that they shorten to very easy to pronounce nicknames.  Their nicknames can change throughout their lives and they can have multiple nicknames at any given time, depending on their relationships.  A parent could call someone one name and her friends could call her something completely different.  This name fluidity doesn’t seem to make Thais uncomfortable; it would me.

So the day I met Ait, we went out to a club.  We drank.  We danced.  We drank.  We drank.  And then we ended up back in my new apartment fucking.

I had promised the Ex many, many times that I would not fuck anyone when I was in Bangkok without him.  It was my second night in the city and I was fucking my friend’s boyfriend.  My friend, who was silly in love with his boyfriend.

I felt pretty shitty.  But not nearly as shitty as I felt when Ait asked me if all foreign women’s pussies were as big as mine.  Thais are not known for their tact.  Actually, it’s just that they don’t think saying out loud what is obvious is tacky like us Westerners.  I was nice enough not to say that the reason my pussy felt so big was because it was a pussy, not Mickey’s ass, and because his dick was small.

I figured it was inevitable that I’d fuck when I was in Bangkok without my husband looking over my shoulder so it was a good thing I got that first fuck out of the way on my second day in the country.

That left me the rest of the summer for fucking.  And a few other things.

[To be continued.]

I swear.  True story.

Tags: booze, foreign love, manners, mmm pussy, threesome

Categories: True Story.

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