Slum adventure ends dismally

Boyfriend Maiyuu must be wondering when finally I will learn not to mix with dodgy Thais.

I took Ball to Silom to apply for a job as a security guard with a contract security provider.

Noi, a friend of his mother’s, accompanied us.

The building where the security firm has its poky office, in Soi Convent, is one of the biggest in town. Noi, who used to work for the place, took us in through the carpark rather than the main entrance.

We walked down to the basement, where the security guards and cleaners chck in and out of their shifts.

On street level, the smart people of Bangkok mingled. Yet here we were descending into the dusty bowels of the building where only people who leave school too early have to work.

Noi found the office of the head security guard who would interview Ball for the job.

Cleaners and security guards, who used the same poky office to take coffee and meal breaks, squeezed past.

The company had three vacancies, including one job working as a security guard for a tenant in the building.

However, the tenant wanted someone big. Ball was too short to meet the job requirements.

Ball is 163cm tall, and weighs 50kg. If he wanted a job, he would have to work off the premises, said the interviewing guard, who revealed that, like Ball, he finished his education with a modest Grade 3 leaver’s qualification.

‘Who is the farang?’ the guard asked. He was friendly, but curious.

‘Ball is his son,’ said Noi.

That was vague enough. Most answers we gave were vague, but it seemed adequate for the setting.

So what was left? The company had two other jobs going: one, as a guard at a warehouse in Kluay Nam Thai, about 10min from where Ball lives; another, as a guard at a hotel in Soi Cowboy, which again is not far from where Ball lives.

Ball, dressed in a tatty white shirt and scruffy jeans, did not look happy to be there, and showed no interest in what was offered.

Ball misplaced his Thai ID card, so couldn’t present the thing when asked for it. He had run out of passport photographs of himself, too.

In tiny hand, Ball filled out a job application form. Job done, we left.

We ascended to street level to Soi Convent. Noi said goodbye, and went back to work. I took Ball for a quick Thai meal, which cost twice as much as it would just 10min away where we live. We caught a taxi home.

I ended up paying for the transport there and back. Noi did not offer to help, and nor did Ball’s mother, who was playing a board game, Hi Lo, when I turned up at Ball's place to pick him up for the interview.

Mum had skipped sleep, and played through the night. Three or four people were playing with her. I don’t know where she finds her gambling friends, but they look a forlorn bunch.

Somewhere between Silom and home – or maybe even at Ball’s place itself – I lost my B3,500 cellphone, which I have still not recovered. I am almost sure I made it back to his place with the thing, which means someone in that Hi Lo circle slipped it into his pocket while I wasn’t watching.

We were seated in the same cramped sitting room with four of five children and Ball’s matriarchal grandmother, who turned up on one of her royal-style walkabouts.

At least two of the children belonged to a relative of the family, a plump woman in her 30s who arrived in granny's train.

She had a voice like a chainsaw which she wielded on her kids with impunity.

I complained about the noise. ‘You’re bursting my eardrums!’ I said. She ignored me.

Grandma, a toothless, swarthy thing, perched herself on the couch and swatted her grandchildren over the head whenever they said something to displease her.

That was her lot for the day, but no doubt she thought she was doing a good job.

To keep the brood quiet, they put on cartoons. The sound of Tom and Jerry was so deafening I could hardly hear myself think.

Earlier, while I waited for Ball to get ready, one of Mum’s low-so Hi Lo guests – a smallish woman with serious, butch-looking trousers and a face like a tree stump – barged into bathroom where Ball was showering.

Ball was naked.

‘Have you ever met people in this life to whom you take an instant dislike?’ I asked him later.

‘For me, that woman is one of them.’

I spent a few hours with Ball that day, including the interview.

‘If I can’t get to these places easily, it won’t be worth the wages,' Ball told me on our return taxi trip.

If Ball had taken the job, he would have earned just B350 for a 12-hour day.

He would have to find a bus serving that route, or he would end up losing a big chunk of his pay on taxis.

‘In my last job, my younger brother took me to work, and picked me up on his motorbike. He does the same now for Jay,’ said Ball, referring to his girlfriend.

Jay works at a local supermarket.

For poor people, as we know, every last baht counts.

Later that night, my services as financial underwriter were to be called upon again, when Ball decided he wanted to take his ailing girlfriend to hospital.

The taxi ride to Lerdsin hospital cost me B150.

Thankfully, I did not have to pay for her medical prescription as well, as her work insurance covered it.

‘Jay earns just B6,500. She gives my mother B2,500 every pay day, and helps her elder brother as well. After meeting expenses, we had just B500 left for ourselves,’ Ball told me miserably as we sat in the waiting room.

‘We do not have enough money left over to save,’ Jay herself was to tell me later that night.

We were back at his place. Ball had ducked out to fetch some friend whom he had invited for a drink.

I had seen this youngster just the night before, when two or three of Ball’s friends crashed his place while we were drinking.

In a moment of childish over-enthusiasm, Ball invited him around again.

His friend, who was older, asked Ball to pick him up nearby, which meant Ball had to find money for a motorcycle ride.

‘Even after quitting ya dong, Ball still doesn’t know when to stop,’ said Jay.

Today, Jay plans to take him to a local department store, so he can apply for a job at a Japanese-style restaurant. They have advertised for an assistant cook, and service staff.

I have offered to accompany these star-crossed lovers, but on second thoughts might try to avoid them. In the last two days, I have powered my way through B1400, spent mostly in their company.

Add to that the cost of my missing cellphone, and the last two days have been an expensive exercise in self-flagellation.

Ball’s job interview in Silom was a waste of time. I suspect his interview at the department store today will be the same.

I doubt his girlfriend Jay was so sick that she needed to visit a doctor straight away; however, being a doting (or is it guilty?) boyfriend, he wanted to show Jay how much he cared about her plight.

Yet how would he have found the money for the taxi, if I hadn’t been there?

‘I am sorry to bother you, Mali, but do you mind if I borrow the taxi fare?’ he asked plaintively. ‘I don’t want to ask my mother for the money.’

After finishing her Hi Lo game, Mum went on walkabout to visit her debtors.

Mum extends small, high-interest loans to needy folks in the neighbourhood. She has another group of ‘clients’ in Thong Lor district.

Mum collects interest payments most nights, from what I have observed. ‘She doesn’t make a huge amount...just enough to keep going,’ Ball explained, sounding almost apologetic. Sometimes she sends Ball or his brothers out to collect her dues on her behalf.

Ball is young, so he makes impetuous choices. Often, these are the wrong choices, I told his girlfriend.

‘I doubt you were so sick with flu that you needed to visit a doctor, but he insisted on taking you anyway,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry if that sounds harsh.’

I left their place about midnight. Ball’s grandmother, the noisy relative and her swarm of kids were spread out asleep like faded plants on the living room floor.

Boyfriend Maiyuu has given me a spare cellphone he owns, and bought me a new SIM card from the 7-11. I have decided to start again with a new phone number, which I have yet to give to Ball’s mother (Ball’s own phone does not work).

I might keep it that way, as I am in no hurry to contact them again.

I feel slummed out, bummed out, and disappointed.

I might feel lonely in Maiyuu’s company, but I didn’t sign up for this.

If I see Ball and his girlfriend again, it might have to be somewhere outside home.

Reader Lance suggests we meet at a Thai eatery.

His suggestion sounds sensible, but even that holds little appeal. I need some well-earned time away.