The Connecting of the Un-Connected
A Retrospective
Sometimes it’s only just a movie.
This morning I went to do some school preparation work at a local cafe, as well as read a little, answer emails, texts, and social media comments. I mulled over the night before, on my walk back from seeing a film at the wonderful Palavai Theater at Siam Paragon, I locked eyes with a beautiful Chang girl working at a bar on the road to my place. So I stopped in, had three bottles, chatted her up and walked away with her Line. We’ll see what happens there. No responses as of now.
An unfortunate occurrence of card fraud from the day prior led to me cancelling my card and going today to get a new card. The women at the bank were incredibly helpful, and two of them led my brain to consider the various ways I might try to ask for their phone numbers in the conversation we were having, but ultimately I am not very good at escalating anything, and kept things professional. What else can I do? I came there for a job to be done, and I don’t know how to make up anything romantic in a bank.
As I was walking back from Icon Siam, I saw two beautiful women buying food from a street food stand. The vendor had orange juice so I decided to get in line behind them. One of these women really struck my eye; she was Asian but I am not sure from where, Thai or not, I think Thai. She had Chinese lettering tattooed across her shoulder. When she turned around, her features were quite pronounced, making me wonder if she was perhaps a Khatoey. She smiled and her eyes looked downward with a glaze that suggested she might have been stoned, and then she bumped into me playfully, and walked on with her friend toward Icon Siam. “Sorry,” I said, too flustered to say much else, and I bought my orange juice, went to a nearby restaurant, and had a bowl of noodle soup, all the while thinking of the woman, with her fair skin and dark black hair and Chinese tattoo.
I resolved to go back to Icon Siam, to see if I might see her again, and perhaps attempt a conversation, but when I arrived there, there were far too many people. I thought I saw what may have been her and her friend in the crowd, and I tried to make my way to that stall, but two men walking terribly slow obscured me, and by the time I got there, there was no sight of who those women might have been or where they went.
Disheartened, I walked home.
