'Do you think he's missing you?' Mum asked me last night. She was referring to lovelorn Mr Dribbles, who has returned to his home in Buri Ram.
We haven't spoken in days, and only met at Mum's shop twice, but Mum could see that we became close.
'I suspect he did initially, but his term break lasts for months, so he will probably have forgotten me by the time he returns to Bangkok,' I said.
'He's bound to be back,' she said.
Mum has been showing increasing interest in my love life lately, which is a worry. I have told her about boyfriend Maiyuu, but she seems barely interested.
She has only met him once, years ago. I remember she pulled a face: 'What, is that the best you can do?' she seemed to say. Maiyuu has not been back to the shop since, and I recall only visited reluctantly, when I asked him along one night.
Mum's shop is the centre of my nightlife activity now, and I am a well-known face, even if I do not live in the area. However, I doubt my boyfriend could even find his way back there again.
Last night kathoey Bom joined me for a drink. 'It's a pity the two of you don't share the same taste in men, as it would be much simpler,' Mum said. She meant it was a pity that Bom and I are not interested in each other.
'No way!' said Bom.
Mmm. No need to be quite so emphatic, if you don't mind - it's bad for my old man's ego.
Still, in Mum's eyes we must have made for a sad sight, the two of us, sitting around waiting for handsome men to walk into our lives.
Actually, that might be why Bom turns up - he fancies the teenage boys who drop into Mum's shop, who in my view look way too young - but it is not my main purpose in drinking. I like meeting new people, and watching the night roll by.
Later, a woman trader in the area joined us. She and Mum talked about men, and Mum mentioned jokingly that she had her eye on me as a marriage prospect.
'We'll probably have to wait 10 years, though, before my husband dies,' she said, with a laugh.
A long-term marriage prospect, then. By that time I might have learnt how to fetch customers' Pepsi orders correctly (one hopes, anyway).
However, I shall be even older and uglier than I am now. I wonder if I shall still be occupying the same bar stool. Let's hope not.
Late in the night, doe-eyed Tock, the boy whose manners are as beautiful as his sensitive face, turned up to smoke a cigarette before bed. He was wearing black trousers and a crumpled white T-shirt.
Since his university term ended, Tock has been working in a restaurant. But the part-time job wears him out and leaves him with little time for socialising.
Last night, as he stood chatting to Bom and me, while smoking his bedtime cigarette, it was as if nothing odd had happened that night when I chased him down a darkened street for a talk. I had just chatted him up - so what?
Maybe he gets hit on often. Most importantly, he did not take offence, find it embarrassing, or get upset, as I had initially feared.
Tock asked me a couple of questions, referring to me my name, which he obviously remembers.
Bom was talking to him about good places to celebrate the upcoming Songkran festival.
'I will probably stick to throwing water in my soi (street), rather than going anywhere special,' he said. Tock is a shy, quiet one.
Bom, by contrast, is a noisy kathoey (gay). He has invited me to go with him to Sanam Luang that night. He says we shall meet at Mum's shop, to buy a bottle of whisky and plastic cups, before setting off by foot.
I don't find it an appealing prospect. I would rather sit at Mum's shop, as I do every year, and watch as youngsters carrying their plastic guns head back from water fights on Khao San Rd.
Last year a passing taxi driver asked if he could tip a bucket of water over my head. The driver had taken me to Mum's place one night, and remembered me. I consented, but that was the only time, I recall, that anyone made me wet during the water festival.
Tock finished his cigarette, and said good-night.
'Tock has such lovely manners,' said Bom, as Tock walked down his soi for home.
We haven't spoken in days, and only met at Mum's shop twice, but Mum could see that we became close.
'I suspect he did initially, but his term break lasts for months, so he will probably have forgotten me by the time he returns to Bangkok,' I said.
'He's bound to be back,' she said.
Mum has been showing increasing interest in my love life lately, which is a worry. I have told her about boyfriend Maiyuu, but she seems barely interested.
She has only met him once, years ago. I remember she pulled a face: 'What, is that the best you can do?' she seemed to say. Maiyuu has not been back to the shop since, and I recall only visited reluctantly, when I asked him along one night.
Mum's shop is the centre of my nightlife activity now, and I am a well-known face, even if I do not live in the area. However, I doubt my boyfriend could even find his way back there again.
Last night kathoey Bom joined me for a drink. 'It's a pity the two of you don't share the same taste in men, as it would be much simpler,' Mum said. She meant it was a pity that Bom and I are not interested in each other.
'No way!' said Bom.
Mmm. No need to be quite so emphatic, if you don't mind - it's bad for my old man's ego.
Still, in Mum's eyes we must have made for a sad sight, the two of us, sitting around waiting for handsome men to walk into our lives.
Actually, that might be why Bom turns up - he fancies the teenage boys who drop into Mum's shop, who in my view look way too young - but it is not my main purpose in drinking. I like meeting new people, and watching the night roll by.
Later, a woman trader in the area joined us. She and Mum talked about men, and Mum mentioned jokingly that she had her eye on me as a marriage prospect.
'We'll probably have to wait 10 years, though, before my husband dies,' she said, with a laugh.
A long-term marriage prospect, then. By that time I might have learnt how to fetch customers' Pepsi orders correctly (one hopes, anyway).
However, I shall be even older and uglier than I am now. I wonder if I shall still be occupying the same bar stool. Let's hope not.
Late in the night, doe-eyed Tock, the boy whose manners are as beautiful as his sensitive face, turned up to smoke a cigarette before bed. He was wearing black trousers and a crumpled white T-shirt.
Since his university term ended, Tock has been working in a restaurant. But the part-time job wears him out and leaves him with little time for socialising.
Last night, as he stood chatting to Bom and me, while smoking his bedtime cigarette, it was as if nothing odd had happened that night when I chased him down a darkened street for a talk. I had just chatted him up - so what?
Maybe he gets hit on often. Most importantly, he did not take offence, find it embarrassing, or get upset, as I had initially feared.
Tock asked me a couple of questions, referring to me my name, which he obviously remembers.
Bom was talking to him about good places to celebrate the upcoming Songkran festival.
'I will probably stick to throwing water in my soi (street), rather than going anywhere special,' he said. Tock is a shy, quiet one.
Bom, by contrast, is a noisy kathoey (gay). He has invited me to go with him to Sanam Luang that night. He says we shall meet at Mum's shop, to buy a bottle of whisky and plastic cups, before setting off by foot.
I don't find it an appealing prospect. I would rather sit at Mum's shop, as I do every year, and watch as youngsters carrying their plastic guns head back from water fights on Khao San Rd.
Last year a passing taxi driver asked if he could tip a bucket of water over my head. The driver had taken me to Mum's place one night, and remembered me. I consented, but that was the only time, I recall, that anyone made me wet during the water festival.
Tock finished his cigarette, and said good-night.
'Tock has such lovely manners,' said Bom, as Tock walked down his soi for home.
I agree. What a shame he won't let me be his friend.
I don't want Mum's hooks in me, or Mr Dribbles' talons either. Friendship is so much easier- but in this place, even that can be too hard.
I don't want Mum's hooks in me, or Mr Dribbles' talons either. Friendship is so much easier- but in this place, even that can be too hard.
Ztill keep reading yout writing
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