UNDERWEAR PARTY

Female Thai dancer in the centre with male dancers on the left and right.
.

Last night I was invited to a private party of a friend of ours so I got myself in a taxi to the luxurious State Tower along the Chao Praya River that runs through Bangkok. As the party was dominated by gays, I met two British gay men who introduced themselves to me. They were on holiday in Thailand and knew the host of the party, an eccentric American who must have snorted half of Columbia’s export products up his nose during his lifetime as none of the words that tend to come from his mouth make any sense. He speaks so loud that I always think he has a megaphone in front of his mouth. His taste in music is…. Okay, I’ll stop here, as I want to stay positive. He does know how to throw a good party and when I get invited, my smile gets so big, it makes my ears bleed.

So the two holiday makers sat next to me and started asking me all kinds of questions before I was able to ask them anything.
“Sorry I’m late, I was in the middle of an absolutely gripping book, I couldn’t put it down,” I said.
“What book is that?”
“The second volume of my autobiography. Just kidding.”
“Okay.” They briefly glanced at each other with that “Strange Woman-expression” while frowning.
“So you work in Bangkok?”
“I am a writer?”
“Really, how jolly. So did you publish anything? What do you write about?”
“Yeah, my last two books were all about ME, and I did publish. Do you think someone can call himself a writer if they haven’t published anything?”
Silence.
“So what do you do?”
“I am a radio host in England. I host a programme on writers.”
“O, how jolly,” I responded in my best British accent.”
I wanted to ask the other holidaymaker about his job, but the next question was already being fired at me.
“What do you like about writing and how do you produce a book? Do you start at page one?”
“O dear! I am not very good at answering such questions in one sentence really?”
I didn’t lie about that. I can talk for hours on end about how I write a book. As none of my friends care about my job (as it is invisible until you’re done), I love it when people occasionally show interest in my work, especially my work process.
“I love research. It takes me to places I have never been to before and I get to meet people I would normally not meet. I love to write about stuff that interests me and takes me into a different world.”
I gestured around me to the people who were already in the process of getting rid of clothes items. On my left, the host was snorting a line of cocaine, while I could see some people getting feisty in the kitchen.
“I started my previous book by writing the first sentence of chapter 1, but normally I write like a film director/producer creates a film. There’s a story board and then they start shooting scenes randomly, depending on the weather or location et cetera. So they may shoot the end first and then some scene halfway, and perhaps the beginning at the end. That is how I normally write.”
“So you have the whole story already in your head before you start writing?”
“Most of it.”
The guy got his I-Phone, got to my website and checked out my books while we talked.
I had never seen an I-Phone before, so I started asking him questions about it. “How much?”
“Do you know Pounds?”
“No. How much in Baht?”
“About 25 thousand for an original and 7 thousand for a copy in Bangkok.”
“Twenty five. That’s half a facelift with an inexpensive physician in Bangkok. You see that guy overthere?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a plastic surgeon. He can make you look ten years younger for 100.000 Baht.” Okay, that was perhaps not the most flattering remark.
“So, great. Radio host, right. BBC?” I continued.
“Commercial Channel. Sky Radio. When you’re in England, would you like to come on our show?”
“Sure.” As if I am in England every month.
“You like poetry?” the guy asked.
“No. I hate poetry. Poets are not my cup of tea. I think they are just lazy writers.”
I turned to Mr. number 2. “What is it that you do. Radio too?”
“I am a poet.”
Foot in mouth.
“Just kidding. I work for BBC television.”
“I assume both of you are gay.”
“Yes, we are.”
“I thought so. This is a gay party after all.” I looked around me. By now, people were walking around in their underwear.
“So what are you doing here? Are you gay?” Mr 2. asked me.
“No, I like men. I got into the gay scene 2.5 years ago when I started carrying out research for my new fiction novel that is coming to me very, very slowly.”
“What’s it about?”
“Middle aged married Chinese gay military general with wife and gender dysphoric son who travels to Bangkok with his best friend, who is a Chinese gay surgeon that used to be his lover when they were teenagers.”
“Wow. So you’re checking out the Bangkok gay scene to observe gay life here?”
“Yeah. Look around you. Chinese, Thai, Koreans, Japanese, Americans, you British folks. This party is all research for me.”
“Hey, Tau,” the host yelled at me. “You want a line?”
“No, thank you. I don’t do that stuff.” I turned to Mr 1 and Mr 2. “The host's long and short term memory is gone and he forgets my ‘no-drinking and no-drugs policy’. I wrote my name on his wrist when I came in because he keeps referring to me as That Woman. He can’t remember my name.”
“I think writers are very interesting.”
“Thank you. I think Radio hosts are very interesting. Tell me all about it. By the way, what’s your name?”
“Michael. And this is my husband, Freddy.”
“Great to meet you. And I must say, what a lovely underwear you’re wearing. Quite difficult for you to talk to me, I guess when someone has his face in your groin. That is Khun Lek, by the way. He’s a Thai friend of mine and he loves westerners… as you are noticing right now.”
Michael and Freddy looked very happy.
“So this must be quite an interesting way of researching, right?”
“Yeah. Because this is not something I can really talk about to anyone, right? It’s not as if I can write a story about these experiences on my weblog. I used to be a nun.”
“Really.”
“How come?”
“Well, I used to live in the hometown of the Dalai Lama…” And I suddenly realised, I had to stop talking. “Guys, enjoy what you’re experiencing right now. I am going to fill up my glass with water in the kitchen. Have a great time. I am going to find some people who are still dressed and then I am off to a disco on Silom Soi 2. My husband and I love to dance. With most of our clothes on.”
The host looked at the name I had written on his arm. “Hey, Tau, you want a line?”
“No. Taxi.”