New watering hole

I have found a new place to drink. It is close to Mum's shop, but better. Unfortunately, it also lies along the route between Mum's shop and her apartment.

She visits her apartment regularly when she is on duty at the shop. Luckily, last night I did not see her.

I am sure she would not appreciate seeing me at a rival shop. Times are tough, and I should know where my loyalties lie.

The new place, not 50m from Mum's own, has air conditioning, a counter out front, soft music, a small garden and waterfall, toilet, cheap menu...

It looks as smart as any Thai-owned eatery you would find in town, and looks sadly out of place in an area as rundown as Pin Khlao.

The eatery is owned by Wut, an enterprising businessman in his 30s whose girlfriend works nearby.

I took a seat. Within five minutes, he had introduced himself. We chatted for the next half an hour.

His place has seating inside, and a benchtop bar out the front overlooking a small rock garden and waterfall. As I sat outside admiring his handiwork, a friend from the past called out my name.

'Hello, Mali!' he said.

Kor is a young landowner in the area. We know each other from months ago when we used to drink at Mum's shop.

Back then, Kor was a regular. These days, he appears to have deserted the place, along with almost everyone else in the neighbourhood.

Kor joined me at my benchtop table, and ordered a whisky.

'You know, I own this place. Wut rents it from me,' said Kor. 'He's doing well.'

Occasionally, Wut would join us when he was not busy serving customers inside.

At least a dozen young people, mainly students, came for a meal in the two hours I was sitting there.

'Why is Mum's place so dead?' I asked Kor.

Wut, a newcomer to the area, listened in to Kor's tale.

'It's in a prime spot - right at the head of this street,' said Kor.

'The street is deep...there are condos down here, the local police station, even a naval property.

'Most people who enter this street have to pass Mum's shop first.

'As recently as 18 months ago, it was still a popular meeting place for locals...some nights the place was just packed.

'Police from the local station came, local shopkeepers, tenants from the condos, students...but these days they have all found new places to drink.

'Why did they lose their customers? Mum and her husband became complacent,' said Kor.

'If you turn up, you serve yourself. Often, the counter is cluttered with dirty plates, empty bottles and glasses, so you have to make a space for yourself.

'It is also overrun by dogs.'

Mum's shop now caters to casual foot traffic - people walking past the shop on their way home, who realise they have run out of cigarettes or water. She rarely sells much else.

As a place to meet local people and drink, Mum's shop has had its day, and everyone knows it. I don't know why she and her husband bother to stay.

'It is good for the memories,' I told Kor.

'There's not much else left,' he said, laughing.

Wut listened diligently, but had business problems of his own which he wanted to discuss.

'My two cooks make the same dishes on the menu every night, but they rarely taste the same. Yet for the sake of my customers, I want them to taste the same no matter who makes them.'

Does he sound the complacent type? No fear. I hope his business thrives and prospers, as a reward for his worrying, and hard work.

I welcome the arrival of Wut's eatery. It's a civilised way to drink and dine, and is well overdue on the Thon Buri side of the river, where tourists seldom venture.

Now, how to square it with Mum?

-
'Oh, here we go - I thought the money issue was decided,' said Maiyuu.

I had just told him of my latest proposal - that he give me an extra B2,000 a month, down from my initial demand of B3,000, and just a small share of the B12,000 in new earnings which I am making at work every month.

'I can still help with household expenses if we end up short,' I said.

Maiyu grumbled that, given my indecisiveness, I might go back to asking for the full B3000 before long.

This morning, before I woke, Maiyuu had visited the local supermarket to buy supplies. He returned with two bags full of vegetables, including mushrooms, corn, and asparagus, which he is now turning into a meal.

Readers chastise me for giving Maiyuu control over my ATM card.

Ideally, I would like Maiyuu to go back to work, and might suggest he looks for a casual job as a salad hand or pastry chef in a small eatery such as the one I found last night.

But for as long as looks after the household well, he can keep the card. I could assert myself and demand the right to do this and that, but where does that leave him - or us?

Power play

The boyfriend complained of stomach pains. My bickering over the finances was causing him stress. Whimper....whine...moan. He asked me to buy some Coke, to help ease his stomach cramps, which I did.

'If this argument over the finances is causing you so much stress, then I will forget about the demand for a share of the extra money from work...I will even give you a share of the cheque I get from Google every month,' I said. 'Things will go back to the way they were.'

He pulled up the blanket and said nothing.

In truth, we did not get to 'arguing' about it...we just exchanged a few stiff text messages.

However, I knew if the matter was not defused soon, a heated argument was not far away, as Maiyuu refused to haggle with me, or even consider my demands.
I asked him how he felt.

'Up to you,' he said.

That's Thai speak for: 'I feel great, thanks very much, that you have dropped all your demands and given me exactly what I wanted all along.'

I decided I needed time away from home, so spent the day yesterday in the company of a farang friend. He rents a comfortable home close to a temple about 10mins from my place.

After drinking until sundown there, we carried on to Pin Khlao, though not to Mum's shop, which is dead - but a small eatery close to the Chao Phraya river, which was lively, and a more enjoyable way to spend the evening.

Last night when I returned home, I found Maiyuu had bought no food for us to eat. It is one of his jobs, but he hadn't done it. He jeered me when I walked in the door, to make me feel victimised and small, as he knows he can do it.

'No, there's nothing to eat...the shops in the market are closed. No, I won't go down to look for anything...you will have to go outside again yourself.'

I said nothing, and took a shower. When I came out again, I heard him ordering pizza on the phone.

Maiyuu knows he can bully me up to a point, but that ultimately he has to help, or I really will blow up.

Gays like inflicting emotional (and other) pain on each other. Maiyuu enjoys flexing his muscles, to see how much he can upset me. Last night, for a change, I refused to respond to his provocations. I played meek, acted the victim, to see how he would react.

Ten minutes later, I was lying next to him with my eyes closed, in front of the television. He prodded me in the shoulder.

'Why don't you go to bed? Don't fall asleep here.'

Meekly, I did as I was told.

I hope he noticed that I showed no interest: No customary 'good-night', or anything else. As the bullied party, or victim, as some readers have put it, I had become timid and submissive.

What he needs, of course, is for me to yank down his pants next time he walks past. I should give him a firm spanking on the backside, as he seems so intent on acting like a child.

Children bully. Adults negotiate and try to reach a compromise.

I have a surprise for him this morning. Today I shall go from being meek and submissive, back to being the strong half again.

I shall demand he gives me B2000 a month from the extra B12,000 I am making every month.

'I have changed my mind,' I shall say.

Maiyuu argues that he spends his money wisely, on meeting our needs as a couple, but that I tend to spend my money only on myself, or other people. He has a point.

However, I am not asking for much. I doubt he needs an extra B12,000 a month to meet our needs as a couple.

In any event, life is too short to spend worrying about it.

Plenty of Thais survive on much less. Maiyuu appears to have stopped working, so is bringing in no income, and making no contribution to our relationship, other than helping keep the household running.

Being gay does not give him the right to wield power or influence over anyone, just because his partner might also be gay and inclined to want to settle arguments rationally rather than use brute force.

But if it's force he wants - as some kind of weird confirmation that I really do care - then I can do that, too.

Let's have another go at it

Do I sound sad and desperate?

From Mr Anonymous:

'I suggest that your previous message in which you appear to be considering joining a slum family in compensation for the loss of the very slim company your ''boyfriend'' provides does not only make you appear sad and desperate, it means you really are sad and desperate, and furthermore you are stuck in this defensive cycle in which you argue yourself (and anyone else who suggests it) out of positive change. You need a good professional counsellor more than anything else.'

Mr Anonymous, with whom I have battled on this blog over the boyfriend before, says if I am unhappy with Maiyuu, I should leave.

Referring to a blog post, he noted that the other day I was contemplating joining a slum family, I seemed so desperately in need of love and affection, or even just a place to belong.

He also reckons that I like being a victim - I will criticise the boyfriend, then when readers offer advice confirming what a lousy boyfriend he is, I will do a curious about-face and start defending him.

Or, if I do not go as far as standing up for his actions, I will at least defend our relationship status quo rather than contemplate ditching him for someone new.

I know it must look like that. But there are two sides to every story. Try as I might to be fair to both sides, I can't give you a perfectly balanced picture.

To put it another way, if I invited Maiyuu to give you his thoughts about the joys of living with me, his odd farang boyfriend, I would probably come across very differently.

Occasionally Maiyuu tells me himself what it is like living with me. Hellish! It is at these moments that I realise I am not such an accommodating customer, nor even that enjoyable to live with at times, try as I might to keep the peace at home.

Men who strive to keep other people in the household happy are seldom rewarded for their efforts. My father has spent a lifetime doing it.

I recall many times as a child when I longed for him to put his foot down and take sides with one member of the family or another. But he was more interested in restoring equilibrium than forcing problems into the open.

For that, he could rely on my mother, the feisty one in the household.

She fretted that in the eyes of her children, she would end up looking a witch. My father was the saintly one, simply because he rarely disciplined his kids.

That's the first time readers will have heard me talk about my family life...it might also be the last, as blogs (in my view) should not serve as mere platforms for airing emotional laundry.

For that, as Mr Anonymous rightly points out, I should consult a counsellor.

-
The boyfriend, who has spent most of the last 12 hours of sleeping time hiding under a blanket, has surfaced, and made himself something to eat. He appears in better spirits, perhaps because he has noticed that my own moods are now back to normal.

Thais know us much better than we imagine. I reckon some can read minds, especially those who love us.

I had contemplated spending the daylight hours with a foreign friend, but now think I might just chance spending it at home, since we are getting along.

From heart sister Lyn:

'Isn't this your relationship routine, you two tend to have big blowouts during the winter months. I'm surprise you didn't argue during Christmas. Since I have been reading your blog, you tend to have blowouts with Maiyuu during these two months. Didn't you guys argue over money last Christmas and the previous Christmas? I swear I read your blog way too much. It's like your cycle. You complain and he bitches, then you make up.'

So true! I was thinking the same just the other day...we were overdue for a fight. As I said yesterday, this time of year is strange and moody, as people's routines are upset. For the last two years at Christmas and New Year, we have come unstuck.

Something falls off the motor which normally keeps us running together smoothly. We have to find it, then put it back in place so the thing starts working again.

-
I need more women friends...they understand men much better than other men do. Sorry, sisters, but it just had to be said.

At 5pm today I am supposed to teach English to a couple of students who live around here. Actually, being teens, all they demand of me is that I show my face...they like regularity, reliability, and patterns.

If I skip a day, they feel as if they are missing something - as if Mum and Dad have just had a fight. Their emotional centre of gravity starts to wobble.

It doesn't matter what I say, as long as I show up, like Dad presenting himself at the table for the evening meal.

However, this evening I might have to visit a foreigner friend instead. He has a boisterous dog. I can play with him without having to worry about anyone else. I am overdue for time out!

Postscript: The young man wearing the grey singlet reminds me of the boyfriend. Small, and slight - though we should never mistake that for 'soft', or 'weak'. And as for the one in the household who acts as appeaser: is he 'soft' and 'weak' too?

My father would argue not. Next time I see him, I shall have to ask.

PS2: I am listening to Rose Sirintip's new album, Show (โรส ศิรินทิพย์). Here's a tribute to the BF: Khon Derm ('the same guy'). I'm not about to change, and I hope you don't, either.

ไม่มีอะไรที่จะแยกเราจากกัน
ไม่มีอะไรทำให้ฉันจะเปลี่ยนไป
ยังเป็นคนเดิมคือคนนี้ที่ยังรักเธออยู่
ไม่คิดเปลี่ยนใจ
จะนานเพียงใดแต่ใจฉันไม่เปลี่ยนแปลง
จะมีเพียงเธอ เธอคนนี้ตลอดไป ให้วันเวลาพิสูจน์หัวใจ
ว่าใครรักเธอ ว่าใจฉันแน่นอนแค่ไหน
และตัวฉันคือคนเดิม คนที่รักและมีเธอ ตลอดไป

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.

I asked Maiyuu yesterday 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 B1,000 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 B3,000, 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 B3,000 is too much, I will settle for B2,000,' 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 1,000 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!

A young man at the market in Talad Phlu

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 Talad Phlu market, where I live, 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.