Had a great meal last night...a nice green curry served by a girl who was so stunningly beautiful, she made me want to cry. Or maybe it was the chillies.
We hit Kiss Kiss Bar later, just sinking a few beers. The Colonel got a little over-excited, but when the madam of the place explained the prices for the lady he was nervously chatting up, he decided he was being scammed and we made a hasty exit. There were some crackers in there, but I don't pay for it. They should be paying me...I can provide references.
We ended up in another gaudy joint, where a lady (at least I think it was a lady) took a shine to me. She kept trying to kiss me, but I found the deep voice rather worrying. Anyway, I managed to fend it off...slapping the hand away from between my legs.
Before leaving, I had a thoroughly bizarre toilet experience. I'd hardly finished pissing and tucking the family inheritance back in my pants when the attendant grabbed me in a bear hug from behind, under the arms, and picked me up off the floor. I thought I was being robbed at first. He shook me up and down a couple of times, dumped me on the floor. Then he twisted my head little, pulled on both of my arms and then my knuckles. Things were cracking which I didn't know were supposed to crack, most disconcertingly my neck? He spun me around and wiped my face and neck with a cool, damp cloth. I tried not to think about where it had been previously . I must have still been wearing a confused look as I palmed the guy a few baht and stumbled out.
In London the toilets aren't as entertaining. It's usually just some bloke from Nigeria who doesn't seem to think you can't manage to wash your own hands, tries to splash you with some stale 80s cologne and then expects a quid for the lollipop/ chewing gum/ boiled sweet he's just bunged you.
I'd had enough. I hailed a tuk-tuk in the street, jumped in and had a chuckle to myself at the thought of what the Colonel had got himself into unsupervised.