A few years ago when I was as green as grass on the nightlife scene, I was out in Pattaya, Jan 2000 it was, may have been 1999, but who cares...I sat at this bar near the boxing ring just before Walking Street, (in the days before that huge water purifying thing was installed- it fucking stank there) and watched a few girls strutting their stuff while my old London cabbie mate and another friend imbibed several bottles of local beer, bopping along to the techno music blasting.
I'd never understood the concept of staying with a prostitute at all, well never longer than you "needed" to so I thought, and at this stage had never utilised the services of one, as I had high morals and a snobbish-****ish attitude toward them, I'd grope them but never let their filthy ass into my bed was my attitude.
Anyway I caught the eye of a girl named Am (the names have been changed to protect the innocent) who completely blew my uppity conception away. She had a look that said "help me" and of course me being a guy, and having a penis and a mouth (which = disasterous actions) said the immortal words that have been uttered a billion times, "I go with you?" and swiftly paid her bar fine.
Sex wasn't on my mind at all, but it was on hers and she proceeded to utter the usual intelligent sentences that such creatures utter such as "you have big power hehehe" and "I work bar just two week" as well as "My fend have bar near we can dink beer more you want" which I politely declined as I was hungry.
We took our seats at the PIC Restaurant ???? I think thats the name, on Walking Street and she shocked me by ordering a completely un-Thai dish of Pepper Steak, while I opted for Sweet and sour fish and fish cakes with fried rice (my memory is soo good) Then when I asked her why she'd be into eating such a hefty dish (it was past 2am, in the days when Pattaya didn't close) she told me her boyfriend ate it all the time and that he'd by now be looking for her.
I was totally taken aback and thought why the hell mention that now? Have I all of a sudden put her off being my aquaintence for the night? What was it? my choice of fish? Anyway not really being that bothered, I asked her if she loved him, she said yes, where he was from, she said Manchester, was he a big guy, she said yes and how old was he, she said 39, with an 18 yo daughter.
"Oh well", I said twenty minutes later after consumption of our meals, "I'm off to my hotel, gotta fly to Chiang Mai in the morning" then handed her a crisp 1000 Baht note and faded into the Pattaya night like a fox into the urban London night. And thought nothing more.
Until two months later in my living room in London, working out on my multi-gym to a Felix da Housecat CD, I get a call on my mobile "CALL" it says, no number, nothing.
"Hello"
"are you Patrick from London?
"yes, why?"
"I'm gonna fookin do you you twat"
"is this a joke?"
"nah mate, I'm gonna fookin come down to London"
"Oh really? see you soon then" CLICK.
Anyone who threatens in such a manner like that will in most cases have no balls to really carry out their threats, because anyone who wanted to "do" me would do it silently, catch me strolling in Alexandra Park at 11am or something. Again, I dismissed it and forgot about it.
Fast forward two more months, and I get a call "CALL" it says. Expecting it to be one of the wife's mates from Thailand demanding a loan, I pick it up with a sarcastic childish "Wadee kap, ow arai jaa" and am met with the ferocuios Mancunian accent again..
"You think you can buy a person?"
"What? say that again"
"You think you can buy someone?"
"Sorry but you'll have to fill me in"
"Am, why did you pay her so much money? Why did you take my fuckin girl to Samui? She's my fookin girl so why did you force her away and offer her grandmother 15,000 Baht?"
"I'm afraid you've got me there mate, I'm not aware of doing that, I had food with her and gave her a thousand baht, she was bangin on about what must be you I take it?"
"I'm coming down to London next week and I'm gonna find you"
Then it dawned on me that he could indeed find me had he half a brain, I'd enthusiastically handed her my business card in a fit of "Knight in shining armour" mode. It had my phone numbers and my home number on it. Anyone with a brain cell could find out my real name and address from that information.
A week later I got home at 4am from a gig and checked my answer machine too find a chilling message:
"Patrick it's me, so this is your home telephone number, and now I have your address, see you shortly" CLICK.
I shuddered with a mixture of curiousity and dread. Sure if he's just one guy, fine, I got loads of neighbours and I looked after next door's cat when they went to Poland so he owes me a favour, and there's four of them. I was referring to the four Polish painter and decorators who were living next door and looked bloddy 'useful'. (Yes I live in an upmarket area)
Also was my good mate Anthony, three doors away, a Jamaican jujitsu instructor and was head of security at a HMV store....
I'm exaggerating here, thinking like this, I thought...then I thought the unthinkable, my wife's very handy at talking and influencing other Thais (her father was the Mayor of Nakhon Pathom province (yes, google it and you may find him)) so I confessed all to her and quite surprisingly, she wasn't angry at my meeting such a devious whore, but moreso Am's complete and utter balls at letting her "boyfriend" believe that I had done what another bloke had done. Why was Am letting him believe that I did all these things?
My wife called Am and reduced her to a quivelling apologetic wreck, promising to get her crushed by a ten wheel truck or something along those lines. Am couldn't give a reason as to why she was letting this guy threaten me. Am promised to call him off and that was that. So I thought.
A month later I was making plans to take a break in Chiang Mai again, and make a point of avoiding Pattaya altogether.
The phone rang, I picked it up expecting to hear the tones of my Indian travel agent offering me an unreasonable price...
"Patrick"
"Yes this is I" (impersonating Walter Matthau from The Odd Couple)
"Your fuckin dead, nobody threatens my baby, I'm comin down to London"
"Look pal, I don't know who you are nor do I really care but if you're going to threaten me, please carry it out, and stop wasting your phone bill, ok?"
"I'm comin to London next week" CLICK.
Then that night I got an unexpected email from Am. She claimes that I had left a shirt at her bar and wanted my home address so she could post it. I gave her an address and logged out.
A few days later I was walking with my sister and her kids and the phone rang, it was him again.
"I'm gonna fookin find you"
This is getting boring I thought and so are the readers of this.
"Ok then see you" I hung up.
A week later the same happens again. Then again a few days later.
Then finally I snapped.
"I'm gonna fooking do you mate" he said.
"I'm fookin coming down to London" he continued.
"Well that's nine times you've told me, are you fucking coming or what? I'm waiting for you, just you and me alright?"
Nothing happened after that, no phone calls, nothing.
Then I remembered the address I had given Am to send the shirt to, maybe he had gone there shouting the odds....
I'd given him the address of Islington Police Station.
But, me being me, I' didn't learn, and one day somebody did knock on my door in London. That'll be the next story....