The Sunset in Chiang Mai and on a Rice Field
Out in the Country.
A Retrospective
The older I get the more and more I realize that I abhor the concept of organized anything that isn’t chaos.
I once lived between three rice fields. It was great—beautiful really. But once a year those fields would burn, each on a subsequent week, and my nostrils would be filled with ash that travelled to my lungs and made me feel like I smoked three cartons a day.
The issue of burning rice fields is not why I am here today. I am here to recollect sitting in a coffee shop, gazing out on one.
If you’ve never had this wonderful experience, then I recommend you do it. It is like gazing out onto the sea. There are some Coffee shops in rural places where the seats look out upon the fields. There is little in this world that could be more peaceful.
After buying three beers, two for home, and one to drink in the shop, a fellow walked by, looking for a weed dispensary. I knew it to be inside, having purchased from them earlier, and so I motioned to the man that it was upstairs. He smiled the sort of smile that said he could go for a conversation with a stranger, and I looked down with a smile that said I could not, and he then made his way to the back of the shop. I quickly finished my beer, knowing that I’d seem a ghost or apparition when the man came downstairs and saw that I wasn’t there, and then he might wonder if I was really there at all. Perhaps I wasn’t.
I made my way back toward my accommodation, but got a trifle lost and turned down a wrong street. Like most Late Millennials, I used my Google Maps GPS to guide me back to the rational path. Walking past a hostel, a group of burly and gorilla-esque Brits or Aussies or something or other made a snide comment at me or in my direction, as if looking for a fight, and I simply ignored them and stared, back turned, at my GPS, let out a hefty fart, and walked down a winding alleyway as the sun slowly set and the grey skies turned to amber.
There were several dogs along this path, and a few dilapidated buildings mixed in with ones that were clearly habitated. A white dog stood in front of me. As I made to approach, he made to approach me, and I walked briskly by. “Odd fellow,” he said to himself, “Reminds me of a cat I saw. He’ll find a nice bitch and fuck her for the rest of his life. Maybe he already has. I could sure go for some Pad Kra Pao. Where is my mother?”
I continued the walk, and heard a bellowing bark. A massive bulldog smiled out at me. from behind a gate. His fur was a silvery brown-black, and his reddish eyes were clean of puss. “Where you going? I can get you five ladies. Five ladies. Two at a time.” “No thanks,” I said to the Bulldog. “By the way, how does a dog know any ladies?” “You would be surprised how many ladies a dog knows.” Said the Bulldog with a pant. “I bet I get more tail than you.” “Yeah you enjoy that yard you are stuck in.” I said with a smile. He bark-howled. “I’ve gotta go now.” I said with a smirk, and continued on.
Outside my accommodation, I came across the Guardian Cat of the Silver Temple. “You did well back there.” Said the cat, licking its paw. “You’ll be rewarded.” “With what?” I said. “Milk.” Said the cat. “More cats. Extra lives.” The cat laughed. “More pussy then.” I said looking dismally off into the distance. “If its pussy you want, then pussy you shall receive.” Said the cat, “But its a particular pussy you are always after, isn’t it? Some special girl?” “What can you tell me, cat.” I said, looking down at the creature. “I can tell you you’ll get what you’re after, but you are gonna need to pet a few more pussies first.” I reached down and stroked the cat. It purred. “Well, I’m off.” I said to the cat. “I know you are.” Said the cat. “We’re all a little off, and I’m off too.” The cat disappeared into the bush. I entered my hotel.
It’s been a lovely day. Tomorrow I’ll board a bus and return home. What more could be learned from this trip? Ah—I need a beer. Luckily I bought two.
