Stick to the gay track

Boyfriend Maiyuu has solved his pastry problem.

He is making puff pastry. The book of recipes he is using, which he bought the other day at the shopping mall, urged him to roll the stuff into sheets using a rolling pin, but it didn't work.

Earlier, he had mixed in flour with salted butter chopped into small squares, also without success. The problem, as I understand it, is that the butter would not blend in with the flour.

Last night, after three failed attempts and much cursing, he decided to knead it with his hands, which achieved much better results. The butter blended in with the flour. This morning he will bake it in the oven.

He attributes the problem to a misprint in the recipe.

-
New Year is a mad time. Strange things happen to people's habits, and moods.

Yesterday I asked Maiyuu for a share of the money I earn from the extra work I am doing at the office. I am earning an extra B12,000 a month. I don't know how long that it will last, but it is good to have.

The other day, I asked him for B1000 a month from the total. He said I would have to wait until next month, as in his view I had already spent enough this month.

Unhappy with that answer, last night I proposed upping that to B3000, which after all is only one quarter. My suggestion set off a blizzard of nasty text messages.

Maiyuu was absent, having the spent the night before, all yesterday, away from home. He refused to answer my calls, which left only SMS exchanges.

'Why don't I just give you back the ATM card? Or would you like me to move out, too? That way you could spend all the money on boys, and have the place to yourself as well.'

That was the nastiest of his messages. When I arrived home from work, Maiyuu was sitting on the floor, belting a large mound of dough with a rolling pin. He probably imagines it was me.

He was still in a sulky mood. 'I am not supporting anyone...I just don't want to go back to running short before pay day every two weeks, as I was before,' I said.

'You have already told me that you want to keep the Google cheque from your blog advertising. Just how much do you need?' he asked.

Previously, I gave Maiyuu money from that source whenever he asked for it, to supplement the money I earn from work, most of which Maiyuu spends on our needs himself, as he keeps my ATM card.

He transfers to me a share of my salary every pay day, but it does not last.

For the next couple of months, I will need to save my Google Adsense money, as I am going overseas. Maiyuu has declined to give me the money from my salary, so I have no choice.

'If B3000 is too much, I will settle for B2000,' I said.

I do not mind if Maiyuu keeps my ATM card, or has control over how most of our money is spent. But I will not force myself to scrape and scrimp in misery when we have no need to do so.

Maiyuu reckons he spends my money more wisely. He has a point there, even if he rarely tells me how he spends it, or what we have left in the account.

I do not throw money at gay guys, as I don't go to nightclubs. I do give small amounts of money to some of the kids who live in the market, because they have little.

That's forgivable, and Maiyuu knows I help them.

Occasionally, I am tempted to support people in more substantial ways, which I suspect is less sensible.

I know a young man in the market whose mother works long hours selling goods away from home, but who has no home phone to call her.

He is close to his mother, and misses her when she is at work. He has an elder brother, but he is often away. Their father is dead.

My young friend owned a second-hand cellphone, but it broke.

I asked him how much a second-hand replacement phone would cost. 'A bit more than 1000 baht,' he said.

In a silly moment the other day, I thought how good it would be to buy him another second-hand phone, or at least give the money to his mother. She could buy it for him, without saying that I helped her.

But then I thought: 'Why him?'

He has an elder brother, who might get jealous, or insist he keep the phone to himself.

My young friend does not like being seen in public with me, as I am older foreign male. His brother or friends could tease him for being gay.

I know other deserving cases around here. I look for people on whom to shower love, because my boyfriend is so unresponsive to me, or seems distracted with other things.

A few possible solutions:

1. Bury myself in work or reading books, and try to forget about my emotional needs.

2. Mix more with gays, and less with straight youngsters who are good at asking me for money. On that note, start visiting gay nightspots, though ideally I would go with a friend rather than alone, which looks sad and desperate.

3. Forget about mixing with families in the market. I am the only westerner living in these parts, and tend to stand out.

Postscript: Thanks to Neil for the advice about pastry which cracks. I shall pass it on.

Get on with your pastry, then!

Making pastry can be a challenging business, judging by Maiyuu's failed attempts so far.

Maiyuu spent hours yesterday trying to roll pastry without making it split. Maybe I do him an injustice: he has made many pies in the past without problem.

He gave up the effort after two failed attempts, and left home to spend the night with whoever is entertaining him outside home these days.

-
A gay youngster hopped on the bus as I was heading to work. He had dyed his hair blond, and wore his black pants low, with a jacket, and low-rise T-shirt.

He shot me a gay look as he sat down - maybe out of habit, or to see if I was interested. A few moments into the journey, someone called him on the phone.

'I wanted to go to DJ Station or Or Tor Kor last night but I have a cold,' he told his friend, referring to those two well-known gay nightspots in Bangkok.

After the call, he stretched, showing me glimpses of his white underwear.

His apple eyes, shapely forehead, and square lips were all distinctively Thai. In a gay nightclub with 100 customers, he would be among the best 10 best-looking youngsters there.

We left the bus at the same place. He walked ahead. I was making my way to a noodle stand for something to eat before work, which is close to a bus stop, and a 7-11. He sat down at the bus stop.

After ordering my noodle, and leaving my bag at the foodstand, I wandered over to where my young man was sitting. He was on the telephone again.

I tapped him on the shoulder, interrupting his call. 'You are very pretty - did you know that?' I asked.

He smiled - and I returned to the noodle shop. By the time I had finished my noodle 10 minutes later, Mr Handsome Blond had left.

-

In the market, I visited a shop which serves pork off the bone and rice. I visit regularly, as I like one of the young men who serves me.

After the meal, a man in his 50s walked out before me. He had asked the family which runs the shop to give him B20, so he could call his daughter, who sells goods in the area.

They declined. As we left the shop, he was grumbling, so I gave him the money instead.

We talked, attracting strange looks from residents in the market.

My new friend is called Da Bua. He lives behind the shop where we had eaten moments before.

We walked back to his place, taking the scenic route. Outside his simple home, which sits in a small slum community, he introduced me to a neighbour in her early 50s and her teenage son.

I bought a bottle of lao khao, his favourite tipple. We found a place to sit, and he brought out a checkers-style board game called makhos (หมากฮอส).

We played, but I spent most of the next three hours talking to his neighbour, and her 14 year-old son.

'I have no family here, and would love to be part of someone else's family if you would let me,' I said.

I must have been feeling lonely.

Mum accepted me happily. Today I will go back to see them again.

Love thy neighbour

Boyfriend Maiyuu has spent the last three nights away from home - the first two, at a nearby hotel meditating, and last night with a friend.

This is what he tells me, and I have no reason to think otherwise.

It's New Year, so we all have to do something different.

For three days in the last week, my company has put us on an early-start, early-finish shift. So I have done 'something different' too.

'I hope you do not mind if I am not here. Being alone gives me time to think, and makes me feel better inside and better about my life,' Maiyuu told me two nights ago, on a brief home visit before returning to his meditation hotel.

'I am staying at a cheap place, a hotel around here,' he said.

'Where's your overnight bag?'I asked him before I left.

'Oh, I left it at the hotel last night, so it's still there,' he said.

-
Maiyuu has bought a new German oven, for his baking. When we visited the mall together a few days ago to buy my new glasses, we also took a look at portable ovens.

The oven which he uses for baking is small, unreliable, and old. The new one looks super-duper - what else can I say?

He has yet to use it, but has been busy looking at cookbooks for new ideas.

-
The people who live below my condo celebrate New Year at home. They hire powerful stereos or karaoke machines with a deadening, thumping disco beat.

One place puts up tinsel outside every year. They sit around at a table, or dance.

A girl who joined their party screamed all night long, intoxicated by the noise she was making.

The family opposite raises noisy chickens. Last night, they took over the chicken shed for their New Year celebrations. They had hired their own stereo or some other sophisticated noise projection device, which pumped out music with its own beat.

I have seen both families come to blows before, and thought another commotion was in the offing last night.

How can you enjoy yourself properly, when the family directly opposite is blaring out its own music?

After tossing and turning in bed for two hours, I finally heard someone call out: 'It's time for bed.'

An hour later, by 2.30am, the worst of the noise had died down. I took half a sleeping pill, and the problems of the world faded away.

-
On New Year's Eve, the night before, Maiyuu and I watched fireworks light up the city from a window in our condo.

I held him by his shoulders, as I didn't want him falling out.

Our heads turned here and there like spectators at a tennis match. Over here, a big plume of orange! Over there, candle lanterns floating in the sky!

He is a sweet kid. Maiyuu lit a cigarette, as he tried to contain his excitement.

He had recently showered. I put my nose against his head and sniffed his hair.

Where heroes are made

Bangkok Yai canal, which runs through Talad Phlu 

'Can't you just polish the old ones?' the boyfriend asked the optician hopefully.
She shook her head. No, you can't.

He tried again.

'Can't you just put the new lens in the old frames?'

'No - I want new frames,' I said.

Maiyuu and I visited an optician at the local shopping mall yesterday. I need a new pair of prescription glasses. He was determined to part with as little of my money as possible.
Of course he asked the questions in jest. However, if they had replied 'Yes', I might have had an argument on my hands.

For someone who has good eyesight like Maiyuu, all this fuss over glasses is hard to understand. I buy a new pair every 12-18 months.

I chose a new pair of frames, with his help. Actually, he went straight to the cabinet where the cheapest frames are kept, chose one for me, and pronounced they would look 'perfect'.

Actually, they do not look too bad, if a little on the trendy side.

'I am too old to wear these,' I said.

'They will make you look younger - and they are cheap,' he said approvingly.

We did try on a few others, but settled for the pair he liked which will set us back the least.

The young woman serving us enjoyed our exchange: the farang urging the Thai to spend a little more on his eyes, the Thai keeping his purse strings closed.

They also tested my eyes. My eyesight has grown worse in my right eye, as I suspected.

My new eyeware, with a new pair of lens, will set us back B7,300, which is not so bad really.

Maiyuu put down a B4,000 deposit. 'You can find the other B3,000,' he said.

I talked him down from that lofty position by agreeing to buy him a present at the local bookshop - two cooking books, worth B600.

-

Long-tailed boats bring tourists with their bikes to canalside eateries

I met bad boy Kew at the riverside eatery for a drink.

He wanted to meet in Pin Khlao, where he could pluck my guitar moodily on the banks of the Chao Phraya River, but we decided the local eatery by the canal running through Talad Phlu would be easier.

He turned up shortly after 2pm, the first time we had met in four or five months. The last time I saw him, I brought along a straight friend of mine, farang C.

At his request, Kew took us that day to a forlorn part of town where men pick up girls off the street.

Yesterday, Kew was in a subdued mood. His mother had bought a desktop computer, and then a laptop computer, for the use of his younger sister, who is still at school.

'My sister wanted the laptop so she could show off to her friends,' Kew complained.

Kew knows he is his Mum's favourite, but is having trouble communicating with her. He says she should have saved for a rainy day the money she spent on the laptop. Kew's parents left each other years ago, and his mother is not well off.

My young friend is close to his younger sister, who shines academically - or did, before she became hooked on her friends.

'She told me to butt out of her business. I cried,' he said.

Kew's former girlfriend is also causing him problems. She is 18, and has made herself pregnant with a man she befriended in the provinces. Kew worries about her, as he fears she is too young to raise the child herself.

'I tell her to stop smoking and drinking, so the child has a chance of being born normal,' he said.

I felt sorry for my friend, who came close to tears a few times as he told me the sad stories of his life.

Kew, a security guard, works for a local car firm. He can look after his own needs financially and is even managing to save money, he says, so life is not all bad.

While we were drinking, a fight broke out at a nearby table. A small man in his 50s started shouting at a woman. I don't know what the fight was about. Kew could see more of what was happening from where he sat.

'If I intervene, will I get thumped?' he asked.

'Don't do anything - just sit,' I urged.

However, we were both on our feet a few seconds later when the man pulled out a paper cutter. The sound of the blade sliding out of its metal sheath is unmistakable.

One of the women at the table was trying to restrain him.

I was the first to arrive. 'That's enough,' I told him firmly.

Kew did much more. He put himself between the man with the blade and his female target, and threatened to take the knife off him.

The little man with the fiery temper agreed to put his cutter away. The woman he was scolding fled the restaurant, and life returned to normal.

I was proud of Kew. On his feet, coming to the rescue of a woman, he looked tall and strong.

'You are the hero of this shop today,' I told him after we had returned to our table.

'You're my hero as well.'

Kew and I have known each other since he was 18. He is now 25, looks harder in the face, but is still handsome.

While we were drinking, three long-tailed boats pulled up at the pier outside the eatery - a small restaurant with open sides perched on the banks of the canal - and disgorged their passengers and bikes on to the rickety pier next to us. 

Under the bridge, close to the canalside eatery

They were tourists, who had come on a bicycle ride around the market. Before their ride, they drop into the restaurant for a bite to eat.

I spoke to one of the guides, a tall Thai woman in her early 20s.

'I like girls like that - if I didn't have Maiyuu, I might be with her - she suits my specs,' I announced.

I would like to think it could be true. Who knows.

Kew, for his part, decided he liked the look of one of the Dutch girls in the tour group.

An hour later, as another tour group was getting back on a long-tailed boat by the wooden pier, having finished their ride and their snack, a Thai tour guide chatted to Kew through the open sides of the eatery.

She was on the pier, piling bicycles onto the boat.

After she left, a member of the waiting staff told Kew that the girl had left her phone number.

She must have liked the look of Kew, but was too shy to ask for his phone number herself.

Kew called back, but did not sound interested, as his moods were still flat.

My young friend has depressive tendencies, but I am not sure how to help him feel better.

'Can I kiss your forehead?' I asked. 'It looks sad.'

'No - you're mad,' he said, laughing.

Postscript: Happy New Year to readers.

Khao tom reunion

Farang C went for the Thai option last night, choosing to drink at a humble khao tom shop rather than a trendy, tourist-style place nearby, as he did not want to sit indoors.

In Klong Toey, where we met, I gave him a choice of two places to drink, which I had last visited years before.

One was an indoors eatery which looks like it belongs in the tourist district, with soft lighting and trendy furniture.

The other place, next door, was a khao tom shop whose good name stretches far and wide among Thais, but which to many farang might look too basic.

Without hesitating, Farang C chose the khao tom place, whose owner and family remembered me from last time.

I introduced farang C to the owner, Jay. If we decide against returning to Mum's forlorn hole-in-the-wall in Pin Khlao, the khao tom in Klong Toey might even become our new local.

That should please Jay and her family, as the place was quiet.

Several young men turned up late to order food, probably for their girlfriends. A few couples also dropped in for a meal, but other than that, the place was empty.

I drank whisky, farang C drank beer. About midnight, he left for a girly bar in Silom, and I went home.

-

The Mall Tha Phra, our local mall

Maiyuu and I are visiting the local shopping mall, our first social outing in months.

I want to buy a new pair of prescription glasses, and need Maiyuu on hand to pay the deposit.

First, I shall have an eye test. Maiyuu can sit next to me in the little booth where the optician places lenses over my eyes.

'Can you read the letters on the bottom line, please...'

Last time we did this, about 18 months ago, Maiyuu was surprised at how poor my eyesight had become.

After the eye test, I will seek Maiyuu's help in choosing a pair of frames.

As my eyes get worse every year, so does the bill for new prescription glasses go up. I hope he doesn't mind.