Mr Dribbles snags new victim

Mr Dribbles is back, and appears to have designs on a mutual friend - which suits me just fine.

'Your boyfriend is here,' Mum said abruptly, when I arrived at her shop last night. She meant Mr Dribbles, who was sitting on the sidewalk in front of her shop, drinking with about 15 friends from his performing arts school.

I don't like her talking in that sarcastic fashion - but then Mum appears to fancy me as a long-term marriage prospect, and doesn't appreciate the competition.

Mr Dribbles returned to Bangkok from his home in Buri Ram a few weeks ago. Before he left, he declared he wanted to be my boyfriend - while maintaining he was straight, and had never loved a man before.

I did not join Mr Dribbles or his friends, but sat in my usual place at Mum's bar. He left his drinking circle a few times to talk to me.

'I am so pleased to see you,' he said.

I discovered neither of us had much to say each other. I asked him how he had been, and whether he was smoking any less than last time I saw him (three packets a day).

'It depends on what mood I am in,' he said.

Last time I saw Mr Dribbles, he was given to fits of depression. He looked happier last night, perhaps because he is pleased to be back in the company of his school friends.

After our conversation finished, Mr Dribbles turned and headed straight for a boy in his drinking circle, whose back was facing towards us - and gave him a big, lengthy hug. I don't know if he did that for my benefit, or why, but it was interesting to watch.

The target of his affection is a young man called Sakda, a performer in Thai traditional masked dance. As far as I am aware, Sakda is straight - though Paew, as Mr Dribbles is also known, appears to think or desire otherwise.

'Are you two close?' I asked him when he rejoined me briefly.

'Oh, yes...we love each other a lot,' he said.

This was the first time I had seen them together.

Three months ago, when I saw Mr Dribbles last, I asked him if he knew Sakda. He gave me a look which suggested he knew secrets about Sakda which no one else knew.

When I saw Sakda separately a few days later, I asked him if he knew Paew. He did, but only barely, as Paew had only just moved to the school from somewhere else.

Someone is not telling the whole story, but I don't care. It's possible that in the last few weeks the pair of them have become close. But in my experience, Sakda is not one to give his allegiances easily. He also enjoys being straight and likes to be left in peace.

When I asked him once if we were friends, he told me firmly that we were just people who knew each other.

I have never forgotten those words. While I like the boys from that school, and they appear to like me, we all know how far that friendship extends. I am the avuncular farang who drinks at Mum's shop, and buys them beers occasionally.

They are part of my circle of young Thai friends with whom I can share a drink, enjoy a conversation - and who can sometimes even give me a sense of belonging in this strange land.

I don't want more than friendship, from any of them, including Mr Dribbles.

Last night, they left together in two or three taxis.

'Are you performing in Bangkok?' Mum asked Paew before he left.

'Yes.'

'That's good - the farang won't have to worry about you,' she said.

There she goes again, on that boyfriend jag of hers. I ignored the taunt.

Paew told me he is living in Ramkamhaeng, which is a long way from Mum's shop, or his school for that matter. He says he gets about everywhere by taxi.

Great. Just don't expect me to travel there. My wild days, I suspect, are over.