Karaoke deception, New Year's challenge

Bored of home and the boyfriend, last night I headed for a run-down karaoke joint where I met a promising member of the gay set the night before.

Well, I thought he was gay. In fact, my eyes deceived me. It wasn’t even a guy, but a girl.

The shop, in a large open area in front of a slum, is close to my office. I walked past it the other night on my way home from work.

At the end of a short alleyway leading into the shop I saw the figure of someone I took to be a young man.

His face was pointed away from me. He was chatting animatedly to a mother figure.

I approached the shop, and asked the lad what time it opened. He told me, and I left.

When I saw his face, I was sure I was chatting to a young man...he even had facial hair, or so I thought.

However, when I returned to the shop last night, I realised this was not the case.

I recognised the person I had seen briefly the night before. It was not a young man, but a masculine looking teenage girl, possibly a tom.

I sat down, ordered a beer, and chatted to the cook. She introduced me to her two children, the owner, and her own two kids.

‘Many people from your office come here for lunch. It’s their regular,’ she said.

Here’s the self-delusional piece I wrote yesterday about the shop. I deleted it out of embarrassment, but am reposting it here. Try not to laugh.
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Two work friends and I visited a run-down karaoke joint after our shift ended the other night.

It’s down a small alleyway, which opens into a large open area in front of a slum.

I pass this place on my way home every night, but until I found it on a walk with my friends had assumed it was someone’s home, overtaken by rowdy young people.

Last night when I passed the place again, I saw a youngster chatting animatedly. I thought it might be a girl, but wasn’t sure.

I walked down the alleyway to take a closer look. The animated one was in fact a young man, talking at great gusto to an older woman, perched on a table, massaging her feet.

Mum and her son? Who knows.

‘What time do you open tomorrow?’ I asked.

The youngster, who spoke in a hoarse voice, gave me the time, and smiled broadly.

Tonight, I will go back. Some of the best karaoke singers from the neighbourhood go there, judging by the performances we saw the other night.

I am also interested to learn more about the owners and their families, and how their relationships work.

Mr Animated, while too young for me, has gay potential. I want to see more.

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Bass's mother knows I am lonely. Thais always know.

I will get Bass to call you, so you have a friend for company,’ she said.

Bass is a student, aged 16, who I used to teach English.

His 's family runs a drug store in a two-storey shophouse about five minutes from my home.

The other day I was walking on that side of the neighbourhood and dropped in to see them.

I found the mother there alone, as everyone else was at work, or school.

Bass had sent me a SMS message a few days before, wishing me the best for the year ahead. I replied, but decided to follow it up with a visit in person, as I hadn't seen them in months.

Bass's mother chatted as she whipped up a batch of chrysanthemum juice, which she sells at the shop and delivers in the neighbourhood.

Mum, who is my age, is Chinese-born, and moved to Thailand as a girl.

Her husband is Thai. They have two children, Bass, and his elder brother, Ball, a university student.

Mum learnt Thai after she arrived, but still speaks Chinese, the only member of her in family who can.

‘I can speak a little Chinese, but not much,’ Bass told me once.

‘I have many cousins in China – children of my mothers’ brothers and sisters - but we do not speak the same language, so cannot communicate,’ he said.

Bass shines academically. The last time I saw the family was three months ago, just before I visited my parents overseas.

His school term was about to start, so we suspended lessons.

When I visited again yesterday, his term was about to end.

'You can resume lessons, if you like, though in the mornings he will be busy helping me make juice at the shop,' she said.

Bass hardly needs English conversation, at least at a basic level, as he spent six years at a private school, where 70% of his tuition was in English.

He understands almost everything I say, and responds promptly and accurately.

However, I know I can make him better, and enjoy teaching him, as he loves to learn.

I’ll pencil him in as one of my New Year projects, starting next month.