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Pattaya Daily News

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01 February 2008 :: 22:02:28 pm 6948

Two Thai Women: A Drama, Act 2

Salee had to admire Nipa for being far-sighted. The two women grinned at each other. Then Nipa decidedly disclosed her Pearl Harbour Attack Plan. "My poor girl," Nipa sighed, stroking Salee‘s shoulder. "If I could be with you all the time and take care of you, no man could take advantage of you," she ended the disclosure of a catalytic scheme. The plan worked out wonderfully. Salee arrived at Nipa's one room apartment in a high-rise hovel in Pattaya.
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“How much money did he give you? Did you get it?” Nipa could not wait to ask. “Get what?”
“The ring! Dum-dum.” Impatiently Nipa waited as Salee unpacked and produced a small plastic box.
“Diamonds!” Nipa’s greedy eyes gleamed. Her heavy breasts leaved and the pores on her squat nose glistened. But the ring the protege had secretly bought to pacify the craving guardian was indeed silver and zircon.
“It’s just glass!” Nipa’s predatory eyes suddenly faded at the discovery.
“How would I know? He told me it was valuable. It used to belong to his mother,” innocent little Salee defended the offending ring.
“The mean bastard!” Nipa spat, believing that she and the women of Thailand had been cheated by the like of such a brute. But towards the evening, her vengeful mood changed. “You’re still very beautiful,” Nipa repeated her well learned line as well as speaking – truthfully for once. “In fact, I’m quite envious of you. Often, I wish I were as pretty as you,” which was another truth.

The sight of sex-crazed tourists instigated Nipa to persist unabatedly in her relentless efforts to snatch her share from the lucrative beach resort. She was growing old, and had made little money out of the Vietnam War from which tens of thousands of people had gained their great fortune.

That war was well over and the mighty air bases in Udorn, Ubol, Nakorn Panom, Korat, Takli and Utapao at Sattahip were no more. But now there was Pattaya where the mighty mark-carrying Germans, the strong pound British, the god fatherly Russians had colonized the resort. Every so often one heard people brag of striking gold, that dealing with the Europeans was far more enriching than with the Americans. Besides, the Americans only rented their women while the Germans and the British tended to take their Thai women home with them.

As for Nipa, she would not retire just because she was a little too old now for the trade. “I’ll snatch what I can for my own,” she determined, sharing the same determination as many of those who held ministerial posts. Her hope rose as she looked at her young man winsome accomplice.

That night the two hopeful women strolled along the crowded streets of South Pattaya. Salee was amazed to see so many farang walking in the streets, drinking beer in open-air bars, beer garden and restaurants. At a beer bar, Nipa darted inside and attached herself to a big farang. “You see Hot?” She meant Horst. The burly beer-bellied European shook his head, avoiding eye contact with a unsightly whore, who had passed far beyond the use-by-date. As if she did not exist, he resumed gulping down another mouthful of beer. “He no come?” Nipa persisted.

The blue-eyed giant shook his head more vigorously.

Defiance, not disappointment, became Nipa’s tool. It appeared quite darkly in her vicious, hungry eyes. “Swine!” she swore venom-ously. Returning to her young colleague, she vented: “Just to think that I spoke to it so nicely.” It was quite normal for many Thais to reduce white men to it

Being two against thousands of women of the same inclination, Salee and Nipa became lost in the throes of human confluence as the moved from bar to bar in search of Horst. Throughout Pattaya th ready women were keen for business. Gays and tomboys worked blatantly among drug peddlers, pickpocket experts, stealthy procurers for paedophiles, hoarse-voiced transvestites, jabbering hawker German beer-bar owners, Russian godfathers, British pimps an hooligans. Among these the duo felt quite at ease. But the evening proved to be unfruitful. They could not find Horst.

Nipa and Salee slept in the next day. At noon they went out for piquant papaya salad and monosodium glutamate spiked noodle. In the evening they dressed, painted their faces and applied cheap perfume to their persons and thus they were ready to face the tough competitions. That night they were in luck to find Horst in one of the open-air bars. Immediately Nipa clung to him as if she had known him for a week. Because Horst was big and tall, the procuress has to stretch herself up to the host’s hairy, expansive chest to cajole: “You like? She number one!” Nipa made a thumb-up sign and winked. Salee acted her part, parting her lips slightly to look prim, demure and alluring. But her hastily put on dramatic role seemed to have gone to waste since Horst was busily buying them beer.

“No freelancers here,” the bar manager said grumpily.
“These are my friends,” Horst argued strongly.“They’re freelancers. I have over a hundred women working here. You can have any of them, but no freelancers walking in here!”               
The German sex tourist and the Thai pimp scowled at each other for a brief moment to test the strength and power of the opponent. It was Horst who relented. He took his women out of the beer bar and off the trio went into the confluence of crowds and the throes of traffic.
 
A day later Nipa said to Salee: “You’d be better off here than in Bangkok. Here, I can take care of you, and between you and me, we’ll be more than just surviving. We’ll make money. Lots of money.”
Salee seemed unenthusiastic.


 “Look, Dum-dum. The whole place is booming. Everyone is rushing in!” Nipa coaxed.
” As you know, Auntie Ni, I still have my husband,” Salee sadly laid down a well-known fact.
But dexterous Nipa had another D-Day plan. “You go back to that miser of yours. Don’t worry my pet, it’ll work,” Nipa concluded, patting her niece on the back.

The following morning Salee went back to Bangkok. Nipa’s scheme somewhat amused her, making her optimistic. Days passed while she waited for her keeper to visit. When he came, she endured his sexual demands. Twenty minutes later on, when he had time to look around, he wondered: “What are these farang bank notes doing here?” The sight of a lean, middle-aged Thai fingering dollar notes ‘I brought the image of Horst’s hairy, hefty bulk to her anxious mind, I while combing her long silky hair at the dressing table. Without meeting his eyes, she followed Nipa’s line: “I fancy them.”

 

A minute went by, then: “Whose blond hair is this?” which was exactly what Auntie Ni believed he would say. “What hair?” she inquired blandly, but tightened her lips in anticipation, sensing that the tempo of the drama was quickening.
“Look!”
Salee pretended she could not see any hair in his fingers a suppressed a contemptuous laugh at the sight of the despicab nakedness that could not be compared to her hunky Horst’s dollar fancier allowed all the time the little man wanted. How childishly worked himself up into a rage!
“For beauty sake put your clothes on,” Salee suggested smilingly. She had to ad lib: “You look disgusting!” But she would not dare to ad lib further that hefty Horst was her heart’s desire now that she had truly known him.

“You have been playing tricks with farangs, haven’t you? How do you like those big apes? Big enough for you?” Seeing in her mind’s eye her beefy Horst standing nakedly her side vaunting his manly prowess, Salee could be little the raging skeleton with a vulgar remark, which made the little monkey hit the roof. He struck her in the face, sending her to the floor. She uttered a loud cry, and the pain was real.

Putting on his clothes, he spat out his disgust saying she has disgraced Thai women by going to the gorillas. “Don’t expected see me again!” were his final words, which Nipa had also anticipated.
The wooden house shook at the banging of the door. Battered but relieved, Salee rose to her feet. Her face had a glint of a cynical beguiling smile. No more play-acting was required. Thus the sordid episode of her Bangkok life came to an end.     

 

Reporter : Methawee   Photo : Internet   Category : Stories

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