The joys of being used

The spell has broken. My relationship with Maiyuu feels much healthier, while my friendship with Ball and carer R has moved on to a more sensible footing.

I visited carer R and young Ball last night at the slummy ya dong stand. It was not like previous outings – I grew bored!

First, Ball bought out his baby sister for a play. He sat her on the ya dong table while I was trying to drink.

‘I just love Nong Fresh. I think about her all day when I am work. We hardly get the chance to see each other, because she’s usually asleep when I come home.

‘Today I finished early, so we were able to see each other. I think of her as if she was my own child,’ said Ball.

Yes, yes, dear. Now, can we put the child away, please?

He took the child home, and returned to the shop.

I had been to the Carrefour department store earlier, and bought Ball a pair of jeans and a belt. He pulled off his black work slacks and tried them on.

They fit, though carer R, who was with us, reckons I chose the wrong type. ‘Ball likes the slim-fit look,’ he said.

‘I don’t care what he likes...this is all he is getting,’ I thought.

Ball gave me a quick, half-hearted wai by way of thanks. ‘I shall save them for when I go out,’ he said.

A man who makes roti snacks on a food cart rolled past. Ball, who has known the guy for years, pulled him over for a chat.

They talked guy talk. Carer R cracked a joke, which Ball, who was feeling the influence of his ya dong, misunderstood.

After the roti guy left, Ball challenged carer R. ‘Are you suggesting I don’t pay my bills? Is that what you were trying to say?

Carer R insisted that he had meant nothing by the comment; Ball had simply misunderstood.

Ball wore a grumpy, pouty face. ‘I think we should go,’ I said.

I paid the bill, and asked if I could walk Ball home. No, he wanted to escort me back to my place first.

So we headed off across the vacant lot for one of our push-me, pull-you walks, where we agree to part, but then change our minds.

Neither of us manages to get all the way home before we turn to follow the other one back first.

After 10 minutes, Ball decided he had had enough playing, and really did want to go home.

Good. As he walked away, carer R called me on the cellphone. He wanted to vent about Ball. Could I come back to the shop?

I returned, and stood for 10 minutes as carer R talked at me. The dialogue went on, and on...please, Lord, let me go home.

Finally I managed to say my goodbyes, only to bump into farang C, who lives in the same condo complex as me, and was passing on a motorcycle taxi.

He joined us at the ya dong stall for a drink.

Carer R took advantage of the opportunity to start venting again: first, about his parents, then back to the old topic of Ball and how aggressive he can turn when he’s had a few. He talked for at least an hour.

Farang C, who doesn’t have much Thai, grew bored, and angry. He tried to ask this or that, but carer R kept talking at me as if farang C wasn’t there.

We decided to go. As farang C and I walked home, carer R called me on the phone another two times, venting some more about Ball.

What is wrong with these people?

Farang C grabbed my phone, and swore at carer R. He was sick of the young man. ‘Grow up. Get a grip on your life. Stop boring people!’ he said.

To me, he said: ‘You let these people whinge and whine about their lives. They are using you, and taking advantage.’

We parted, and I went home to see my boyfriend for the first time since early afternoon. More than 12 hours had passed, but he was still up waiting for me.

Since opening up about young Ball, I feel as if my relationship with Maiyuu is on a sounder footing. While at Carrefour, I bought him an egg separator.

He was pleased with the purchase, humble though it was. 'I used to have one, but accidentaly threw it out,' he said.

Today I am going back to look for a more substantial purchase – a food processor, or blender.

Maiyuu asked if he could buy a new screen for his computer. I said yes, so he’s gone to the store to take a look.

We are buzzing again; I feel as if we had temporarily lost touch with what matters in our lives, but are in the process of rediscovering it.

My pay came out last week. Money always helps.

As for Ball and carer R, the spell appears to have broken. Carer R is a great talker, but also a tedious worrier.

Earlier the same day, I met him in the market. We sat side-by-side under an umbrella, picking the tops off a basket-full of chillies for a woman friend of his who sells them nearby. It was pleasant, wholesome, and fun.

Last night, however, I saw another side of carer R, as indeed I did of young Ball. When something has upset him, carer R is like a dog with a bone; he just can’t let it go.

‘Ball still loves you as an elder brother, and you still love him like a relative,’ I told carer R.

I was in sweet-talk mode. How Thai I sound. Sometimes, I wonder if I am losing sight of the real me.

‘But I can still cut him off if I don’t like him. It’s my shop, and I serve who I want. Even if you were to take his side and not come back here again, I’d still cut him off,’ he said moodily.

Ball, too, can be stubborn to the point where he just refuses to listen.

As we crossed the lot, he asked me again and again if carer R had meant to insult him. ‘No, Ball, he didn’t,’ I replied. ‘You just don’t get it.’

Neither Ball nor R went home happy. Far from being alarmed when farang C grabbed my phone and started swearing at carer R, I actually enjoyed it.

I felt as if farang C had restored some balance to what was becoming a one-sided relationship, where I let my Thai friends ride roughshod over me.

The parting words in this frustrating saga should go to Maiyuu.

When I walked in the door, I offloaded briefly.

‘I have been wanting to come home for hours, but people kept dragging me back,’ I grumbled.

‘But that’s what you are like. You are soft-hearted with everyone outside home; hard-hearted only with me.’