Village Generator
By Fred Feedlot
I was green horn to Thailand when I found myself in the up north for the first time. My wife and I had driven all day so we could be with her family in the village. I was talking with her family when about 8:45pm my wife whispered over my shoulder to ask if I wanted to take a shower now. That was nice of her not to interrupt and very considerate but I didn’t want to break away for a shower at that moment so I declined her offer. I figured I had a few more hours to add to this day before I scrubbed down. She was gone to do something else.
Finally at eleven I was ready. My wife gave me a heavily scented candle and a towel and led me down a dark hallway to the shower. I thought I was on my way to my first really intense romantic up country shower. My wife closed the door behind me as I stepped alone into a damp shower. Instead of romance I was facing an electrical outage. No running water and most critical at this time of year there would be no hot water… In a moment the bathroom door opened and my wife brought in a pan of boiling water that she added to the four inches of water already standing inside a plastic tub I hadn’t noticed in the dark… While I was standing there wondering what to do next my wife looked up and mentioned ever so sweetly “Village gen-ate turn off at nine”.
223 words 257 words 266, 268, 266
Has your lady lied to you….. in the last few minutes?
Contributed by Darby Dumbkoff
I had not been in country twenty-four hours before my acquisition of the night before had me off and running to shops specifically designed to help in the transfer of coin from my pocket to gold worn around her neck. I thought I should have felt better having been relieved of all that weight but I was not. I found the process so tiring that I was most happy when my fiancée noticed how tired I had become from the heavy work of depleting my vacation’s allowance. She suggested we be off for a little amusement.
I was ready for that. I was even happier when she offered to guide me through the ticket purchasing ordeal at the first amusement. From outside on the hot sidewalk buying a ticket looked to be a complicated and cold (as in matters of the heart) procedure. I was most happy to allow her to buy the tickets while I waited. I believe I had been in country going on twenty-six hours by then.
I read clearly from the sign posted in English at the entrance that it was going to cost each of us 400 baht for a ticket so I graciously proffered 800 Baht to my beloved so she could make purchase and I could stand back from the crowd and observe what this country was all about while I awaited her return.
By chance I remembered my Thai for Beginners handbook and delved into that not so much for knowledge but as a cure to the boredom I felt overtaking me. I flipped through the pages and by chance lighted on page 247…. Thai numbers. I was instantly aware I had seen some of these Thai numbers on the sign posted on the ticket booth in front of me. My curiosity was aroused so I set about to examine what I suspected. My years of cramming for exams kicked in and I was instantly deciphering what was posted on the entrance sign against what I had in my handbook but before I could learn all, my most luscious host returned with the most fortunate news….
My date had discovered to her surprise, that the ticket lady was from her village back home and because of this fortunate circumstance she allowed us a discount on the purchase of our two tickets. I was excitedly told that the ticket lady discounted our tickets by ten percent. We had reaped a nice 80 Baht savings because my date was fortunate enough to know the ticket lady from her childhood. I felt so triumphant that I let my lady keep the change.
I would like to say that the remainder of the day passed in heavenly bliss but that was not to be. Because of the heat and the disease of jet lag I was brought to my knees by early afternoon. It was not until we both returned to the hotel and settled in with a comforting shower and a late afternoon frolic that I was able to do the math.
I must admit that I was slightly distracted in my research by the sight of a naked nymph of about twenty-four wandering around the condo wearing so much new gold that I had to wonder who weighed more… she or the gold.
I learned only after intense study that the ticket price of 400 Baht so famously written in four inch letters across the top were but half the story when compared to the Thai information written in tiny letters at the bottom of the same sign. The information in Thai declared that Thai’s pay only twenty Baht for a ticket whilst the tourist and anyone else incapable of reading Thai paid the 400 Baht posted in huge letters as a diversion to the truth.
My lady had no more known the lady selling tickets than I did. My girlfriend had paid 20 Baht for her ticket and 400 Baht for my ticket and had concocted an unlikely meeting to disguise her profiting 380 Baht from my good cheer; a pattern of behavior that continues to this day. I believe she is the one I married.
The End
720 Words 683 words 680, 681, 662, 708, 706, 709, 701, 717, 711
Who’s the Man
By Randy Replay
It’s not about your favorite sports team… It is not about your favorite player. Nobody cares about them anymore… Now, it is all about your favorite team doctor? Which doctor can administer the best performance enhancing drugs into each of the team members without getting caught? It’s about winning at any cost. If your favorite doctor wins…. your team wins…. That’s what it is all about.
Team doctors have become such sports personalities that we, as a worldwide viewing audience, have started giving the team doctors cool names like Doctor Ferrari. That’s what they called the guy who impregnated Lance Armstrong before every race.
Tiger Woods had a doctor who just “spun” the Tigers blood. He could have, according to the report, injected some calf’s blood (Actovegin) into the tiger but the Tiger didn’t need calf’s blood… Can you imagine a tiger using calf’s blood when we all know it only takes two beers to get around any golf course… Tiger or not?
It won’t be long before we think of a team doctor when we see a team’s logo…. Soon we’ll be collecting Tee-shirts heralding the image of the winning doctor. We may even forget how many players it takes to make a team when all we really want to know is who the team doctor is and what secret juice he is injecting today. Can we lay money on the team doctor?
We have our own Doctor I.B. Agnostic on the Udon Expats Web page and no one knows if that is his real name or not. (I have some insight…. See me for your Tee-shirt). Who do you think I call when I can’t focus on my computer screen anymore or because I haven’t had a movement in a few days? I call our Doctor I.B. Agnostic… in secret, of course.
The End
241 Words 320, 320, 315, 310
