Doorknobs, floor tiles, spurned job offer

Maiyuu is busy around home. In the last couple of days, he has made a new batch of passionfruit ice-cream, and replaced two door knobs.

He thought he might have to ask the landlord to send her helper to put in the doorknobs, but in the end managed to do it himself.

The doorknob and lock on the front door have been sticky, and were in danger of failing. We now have a new one, in a different style but which looks no less smart. Maiyuu bought it himself.

The doorknob for the door of his bedroom also needed replacing, after he locked himself out a couple of months ago and was forced to remove the old one to get his door open again. The door frame still looks as if someone has been attacking it with a sharp instrument, but he hopes to fix that in time too.

The other day, he also bought some more floor tiles for the sitting room. Laying them has been a job in progress over the last 12 months in which we have lived here, but now is finally coming together.

Almost the whole floor is covered. Next pay day, he might be able to finish the job.

Maiyuu is in great spirits, perhaps because he can see my moods are returning to normal. I am showing more interest in him again.

Today, he tells me he will try making pesto. He has bought his sweet basil leaves, so we’ll see how it goes.
-

‘Try to show some support – Ball intends applying for a new job tomorrow,’ said carer R.

I dropped in to his ya dong stand last night, for the first time in days.

Ball was his usual tired and emotional self, shall we say. He didn’t say much, and I couldn’t be bothered talking to him.

R noticed that I had hardly spoken to my young friend. When Ball stepped away, he asked me to show him some support. I pulled a face.

'You must be joking. He won’t apply for any jobs tomorrow in that state, and you know it,’ I said.

After imbibing too much, Ball spends most of the next day asleep.

Earlier in the day, I dropped in to see his mother to ask if any members of her family were planning on working for my company on a piecemeal basis. They had asked me to inquire about the possibility of work on their behalf, which I did. Work was available, but no one has shown any interest in doing it.

‘Ball is thinking about applying for work at the local supermarket again,’ she said. ‘He wants a permanent, full-time job paying about B12,000 a month, and is not really interested anything else,’ she said.

His brother-in law had now found work elsewhere, which of the three who originally expressed an interest left only Ball’s younger brother, Mr B.

‘I will ask Mr B for you,’ said Mum.

I sent her a message last night asking if he was interested. If he is, I will have to contact the man who does the hiring at my company to let him know.

Ball’s mother did not bother replying, so I have now abandoned the matter. I shall not mention it again, as I doubt they were ever serious in the first place.

I also doubt Ball’s prospects of getting work at that supermarket, unless his employer has a short memory. This would be Ball’s third stint working there, after he left two times previously.

Carer R asked why I hadn’t visited him much lately.

‘I have a bad stomach,’ I said, which was true.

‘So you don’t like my ya dong any more,’ he said.

That was true, too. I find it increasingly hard to drink, even when I mix it with water.

The company of the regulars there is also starting to bore me.

I find myself drifting off, no matter who is talking. I have heard the stories before, or would rather listen to something else.

Straight men need encouragement to try new things. Ball responds well to touch, just as well as he does to ya dong. But I’ve been there, done that, and now have lost interest.

Late riser, reader treasures

Boyfriend Maiyuu has invested in a cheap bottle of sherry.

He didn’t know what sherry was, but knew I could probably drink it.

He served a small amount of this foul-looking liquid to me with ice to see what would happen.

I didn’t know what he’d bought, and he didn't say. I gave it a taste.

‘Bitter!’ I said.

‘It’s Spanish,’ he said.

‘It’s better for cooking,’ I said.

I suspect he knew at least that much, or he wouldn’t have bought it.

-
At 3pm, I dropped in to Ball’s place. He had just risen for the day, and was wandering around in a flimsy pair of shorts which he wears to bed.

How enchanted are the lives of the young.

I had finished one shift at work, and had another pending. Earlier in the day, I had written a blog post, gone for a run, and a swim. He had slept through all of it.

‘Let me put on a shirt,’ he said, slipping upstairs with the girlfriend, who was back at home for a break from her supermarket job.

They were away a long time, and I was tired of waiting. Instead, I sought out his brother-in-law Tum, who was sitting next in the next room with his young child. Ball’s younger brother, Beer (Mr B), was there too.

‘I have asked my company whether you can get work there as a group,’ I said. 'The answer is yes.'

Previously, I had asked about Ball's prospects if he turned up alone, and taken him to meet the boss. However, Ball wasn't interested.

I explained the details. My company would also be happy to hire him, Ball and Mr B if they turned up as a threesome in search of piecemeal work.

Ball had expressed a desire to work with family or friends, rather than having to spend the day in the company of staff he didn't know. His Mum had asked me if Tum and Mr B could go along too.

‘If you are interested, let me know, and I will tell the man who hires staff. He will call you. If he likes the way you work, he will keep calling,’ I said. ‘Some staff work for us most days.’

I gave him an example of how much money piecemeal workers can earn.

Tum, who has the most magnificent smile and calm manner, looked impressed. However, he probably won’t take up the offer.

When I had entered the place, I had found him talking on the phone.

‘As it happens, the boss of a cosmetics company just called. I applied for a job there a month ago, but someone who was recommended by a friend jumped in ahead of me and took the job instead.

‘They are now interested in taking me on for another position, so I won’t have to look for work anywhere else,’ he said.

That leaves only Ball and Mr B. Given that Ball is not interested in the kind of work offered – too repetitive and boring, he says – the chances of his turning up alone or even with his brother look remote.

He could just tell his younger brother not to bother, and that would be that.

Mr B rarely, if ever talks. I can’t see him standing up to his elder sibling.

I will tell his mother what happened anyway. I can’t see her standing up to her son either...he’s too wilful.

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For readers who haven’t tried it, may I recommend following the comments section. Readers bless me with generous, and for the most part intelligent responses. Thank you.

Your comments make for a much more interesting reading ‘experience’, to borrow the jargon. This blog wouldn’t be half of what it is without you.

Calling of work, porcelain knees, Daddy urges

I will ask at the office for work opportunities on behalf of Ball, his younger brother, and brother-in-law.

This is the last favour I perform, as I doubt any of them is really willing to help themselves.

Even if I find answers to their questions, will they bother to turn up?

The questions:

If all three turn up looking for casual, piecemeal work, will you accept them?

Is there enough work for them to do all day? If not, how many hours a day, and how many days a week?

How much will they get paid?

-
When I visit Ball, I look at his face as much as possible. I still haven’t seen it in all its angles. Or if I have, I want to see them again.

‘He’s handsome, isn’t he?’ a crusty old guy asked me.

He would like to see me have a fling with Mr Ball.

‘Yes, but he has a girlfriend,’ I said.

Ball played football the other day, and was nursing a sore back and ribs. I know he wanted me to massage out those painful spots, but I resisted.

We were sitting at the ya dong stand, so we’d have an audience. Apart from that, I rarely touch him at the moment, unless looking for abrasions on his elbows and knees. I like to pick off old scabs. Call me an old scabby guy if you will, but there it is.

‘Don’t you have any new sores?’ I asked, disappointed. Ball has the finest skin, like porcelain. It shows all bruises, abrasions, and scars, so much so that his Mum does not like him playing football, just in case he hits the ground and marks himself.

‘No...I didn’t fall,’ he said.

‘How annoying,’ I replied.

-
When I am work, my work experience seems so vivid that Ball and his family pale into insignificance. When I am at home, I grow bored and restless, and want to see him again.

I would like to split my time between Maiyuu and our lonely lifestyle; and visiting Ball and his family in the slums.

Over there, people are living real lives, even if they are poor and I couldn’t bear to live in such unpleasant surroundings myself.

Home is my bolthole, as all homes are. When Ball and his family get sick of me, they can take comfort in the fact that sooner or later I will have to go home too.

They can go back to living their all-Thai lives, without some farang propped up in their living room.

-
Ball’s Mum and I are just days apart in age. While I have no children, while she has four, all of them young adults.

One child, her only daughter, now has a baby of her own. Two are in the workforce (the daughter, and eldest son), and two idle (Ball and his school-aged brother).

How can one person (Mum), have accomplished so much, and another (me) so little?

Maybe I should wait for Maiyuu to die, shack up with Ball's Mum, and be done with all this gay doubting. Would it work?

I could be a Daddy to four adult children...and what an odd bunch we would make.

Mind control music, farang fixture at Ball's place

My condo now plays soothing mind-control music, when tenants leave the building for the day, and when they come home from work.

Handymen from the office put up speakers outside the buildings in this complex last week. They switch the piped music on in the morning, and again at night.

No doubt it is designed to put tenants in a good mood before their re-entry to the working world, or if they are coming home in the evening, to give them the strength they need to face the wife and kids.

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I am becoming a fixture at Ball's home, like the food tray with legs which sits in one corner of the family sitting room.

I take my place on the floor next to it. While I am bigger than other fixtures in the place, I still manage to fit in.

When I visited yesterday, Mum was darning clothes, and sorting washing. The two babies were playing.

Tum, the mild-mannered boyfriend of Ball’s elder sister, Kae, was playing with his son. Ball was playing with the adopted child of the family, toddler Fresh.

Ball’s younger brother, Beer, was playing on the computer.

Ball’s girlfriend Jay was also there, on a lunch break from work. Even Mum's partner, taxi driver Lort, dropped in.

‘My office is not accepting women workers, only men,’ I told him.

Ther previous nght he had asked me to find work for some female relative of his.

Mum asked if I would make one last inquiry at work.

‘If Ball, Beer and Tum were to go together, could they get work there as a group? And how much would they be paid?’

Ball doesn’t want to work at my company unless he can go with friends. Actually, I doubt he would be interested anyway, as the work (in his view) looks repetitive and dull. But for Mum’s sake, I agreed to ask.

I persuaded Ball to try on the jeans I bought him recently, for his first day at work at my company which never came about.

They are too long in the leg, but Mum says she can take them up.

In baby news, Nong Fresh, who has the cutest little Japanese-style face, is finally getting used to this farang. I can now pick her up in my arms and give her cuddles. She no longer complains.

I spent a couple of hours that night with Ball and carer R, but grew bored of male company.

Down by the 7-11, I ordered a pad thai dish for Ball, as I was worried he would not have any food to eat at home, other than Mama (dried noodles in a cup).

I found his Mum there. She had taken out Nong Fresh for a walk.

‘Ball likes fried oysters. Why not order some for him, and I will keep the pad thai?’ she suggested.

Mum, Fresh and I repaired to a rival ya dong stand, run by a relative of carer R’s.

Carer R and this woman are estranged, and the fact that she runs a rival ya dong stand does not help.

Her ya dong is sweeter, and easier to drink. However, I was there only 30min before carer R called, wondering where I had gone.

Mum asked to speak to Ball. R handed over the phone. ‘Don’t forget to pick up your girlfriend,’ she said.

I walked back to carer R’s stand. By the time I arrived, Ball had left on his errand.

Twenty minutes later, he walked up the street, wheeling Nong Fresh in a pram.

After picking up his girlfriend, he had dropped in to see his Mum at the rival ya dong stand, and picked up his baby sister while he was there.

I love watching Ball with Fresh, as the two are close. He can’t stop kissing the poor girl, who is aged 1. She is used to his face-crunching kisses, and does not cry.

Her nose was running, as she has a cold. 'Erk...you have just given me a mouthful!' said Ball.

Half an hour later, I left. I know Mr Ball wanted to keep drinking, but I was bored.

‘The women are down there talking women's talk, while we are over here talking men’s talk,’ he told carer R.

Yes...but the women’s talk happens to be more interesting than the men’s, I thought.

They talked about babies, food, sleep...simple things.

Men talk about their past lives (while seldom asking me about mine, unfortunately), and bore everyone to death.

The unloved boyfriend, baleful Lort

If one secret to making your spouse happy is to make encouraging and supportive noises, I am probably not pulling my weight.

I do not understand food, I can only eat it. When my boyfriend cooks, I can muster little better by way of praise than to say: ‘That was delicious.’ Sometimes I ask about the ingredients, but really I don’t know what I am talking about, and he knows it.

Maiyuu and I embark on few joint endeavours, such as saving schemes.

I might hatch a plan for the future, such as travel, or saving to get Maiyuu's teeth done, but Maiyuu seldom follows it up if it involves spending money, as he is worried I will see him as a financial drain on our relationship. He has yet to see a dentist, even though we started saving for it months ago.

'I just make myself smaller and smaller every day,' he says. He means he is trying to minimise his presence, so I barely notice he is around.

As Maiyuu sees it, his duty is to cook. He is little more than hired help, rather than a boyfriend, and has few rights.

He seldom goes out to see friends, he says, as he thinks I will get annoyed by his absence.

He does not like me to bring my work problems home, so I rarely mention what happens at the office.

He brightened briefly when I told him yesterday about the pending Supreme Court decision on former prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra’s assets.

‘Don’t go out wearing red or yellow on Friday when the decision is released,’I said, referring to the colour codes of the pro-Thaksin and anti-Thaksin camps. Some predict clashes in the streets.

We discussed the topic briefly, as we happen to share the same views. That was probably our most animated conversation all day.

Still, do couples need to talk about deep stuff to get along? I don’t think so. We can spend a perfectly enjoyable day teasing each other, for example.

Maiyuu will rib me about the men I have met at the ya dong stand.

I will joke about how he doesn’t have a life outside home any more, and has become a virtual social recluse.

Maiyuu reckons he is misunderstood, including by me. Actually, I think I do understand some of what makes him tick. How could I not, when we have been together nine years?

However, that doesn't mean I am making him happy. I may have identified problems in our relationship, but finding a solution is another matter.

'No, I really do want you to get your teeth done!' I might say.

'No, you don't,' he will think, so his teeth carry on rotting away inside his head.

He is not willing to meet his own needs, as he believes he is not entitled.

I carry on tending to my own dental needs, however, as I believe I owe it to myself.

If I don't, small holes could become bigger ones, and the bill for dental care could grow.

So, my needs get met, but seldom those of my boyfriend.

I told him recently that after being together so long, we should regard ourselves as husband and wife.

When we argue, I will no longer invite him to leave, as I have in the past.

I doubt even that attempt at reassuring my boyfriend made an impact. Maiyuu is nervous, and believes he is unloved.

That's a huge gap in understanding, if you ask me...and I am not sure what to do about it.

-
Idle taxi driver Lort paid an unwelcome visit to the ya dong stand. He was drunk.

He asked me to find work for a young woman relative. Actually, he didn't ask me so much, as threaten. 'Do as I say...I am a man of influence around these parts,' he slurred.

Ball wasn't there at the time, as he had ducked home for something. However, he told me not to take it seriously. He has thumped Lort a few times, when he, too, was drunk.

I don’t like being threatened, even by someone in his inebriated state. I am in no position to commend anyone; all I can do is find a contact name and number, should his relative want to inquire about vacancies.

I did the same for Ball, when his mother asked me to inquire about work on his behalf.

In his case, I went a step further; I took him in for a job interview, though in the end he decided not to take up the opportunity.

Lort wasn’t interested in detail. He just wanted me to find work for his relative, forget the complications. Applying for jobs, and going in for interviews is a mug's game.

Well, mate, it isn’t going to happen. Your family had its chance, and blew it.