The Old Roue lives on Soi 4. His rooftop apartment overlooks the busiest street in Bangkok. More money turns hands in a single dy between go-go girls and fat farangs than the NYSE. Hard cash. On Wall Street no one shows real money. On Soi 4 only cash is king no matter how close you were to being a paper billionaire. The Old Roue has earns enough money from his day job to support his research into the nightlife of Nana Plaza.

“When are you coming back?” he asked on the phone.

“End of March.” I have to complete a ruby sale to finance my return to Thailand. If it goes through, then I can resume my life of leisure.

“How’s everything going with your studies?”

“I’ve been dedicating every minute to a set of twins.”

“Twins?” I had the chance to go home with twins from the old Black-Out Go Go in Pattaya and related this incident to the Old Roue. “I told them I’d be back the next night. They vanished from sight. Are these girls identical?”

“Almost.”

“Almost? Are they related?” Many mama-sans tell farangs girls are twins as an extra incentive to double barfine the girls.

“They have the same father. Somehow they were born on the same day to different mothers. I’ve seen their IDs.” the Old Roue was convinced by this documentation.

“So they’re 50% twins.” I wasn’t so certain about the connection, but suspension of disbelief is harder halfway around the world. “You have photos?”

“I am always thorough for these studies.” The Old Roue was 60. He intended on donating his research to the Kinsey Foundation. “I’ll email you later.”

I couldn’t tell if they were identical from the jpegs, but truthfully it didn’t matter if they were related by birth.

Their beauty was from the same gene pool.

Go-Go Twins galore.