Spike was a Tasmanian demolition engineer. His age could be 55 or 65. Not a handsome man. His gut was an investment of thousands of beers. He drank to steady his hands. Dynamite was in his veins. His ears were tone deaf.

“Drinking calms my nerves.”

Spike visited Pattaya every year for a three-month holiday. Having been married once to an Australian woman he resisted an relations with Thai bargirls or ‘sheilas’.

“All women are the same. After your money.” Spike was a hard man, but even the hardest rock will give way to TNT and on a recent trip a one-night stand from Soi 8 unexpectedly lasted a week. The bargirl was from Chiang Mai. White skin and a pretty face. No one would guess that Fin had three kids up-country. Her figure was a dream.

Some of his drinking friends said Spike was getting serious, but the barkeep shook his head. Patrick and Spike had worked the western mines of Australia. Patrick had been married to Spike’s wife’s sister.

This will end bad. Spike is a romance killer.”

Patrick accepted all bets that Spike would be a bachelor again within three days. The odds were 10-1 and he had plenty of takers. After all Spike’s short-times tend to be horror-shows and Fen was a beauty.

Several evenings later I was sitting at the bar in Spike’s hotel. The girl came down the stairs in tears. Spike appeared five minutes later.

“She complained she hurt from too much sex and couldn’t do it again. All the girls say that after a few days.”

I poked him in the shoulder. “That hurt?”

“No.”

I jabbed him harder with two fingers. “What about that?”

“A little bit.”

I knuckled him with three fingers and he flinched, “Watch it, mate.”

“Just trying to prove a point.”

“Which is?”

“All women complain about men wanting sex all the time. Why? Because you would too, if you had a drunk ramming a sausage into you three times a day. Women are soft inside. Men are hard. Gotta hurt.”

“So whatcha saying?”

“Just that you can’t expect a woman, even a bar girl, to take a pounding and not hurt after a few days.”

“Hadn’t thought of it that way.”

“So you’re gonna give the girl another chance?”

He wasn’t going to find anyone prettier during his stay. Spike is short, fat, and has a face a father would own up to as his son. Then again this was Pattaya and Spike said, “Naw, my love days died a long time ago.” He finished his beer and headed into the night.

The barkeep collected his bets. Even at 10-1 he made enough for a good meal at the Lobster Pot. Everyone bitched that they had been set up. The barkeep said, “I know Spike 25 years. He lasted nine years with his wife. He hasn’t has a bird longer than a month since the divorce. He’s no good. If you can’t see that, then you’re blind.”

We heard shouting from the end of the street. It was Spike and the girl. Fen was hitting him with a shoe. He went down and took a beating. Everyone at the bar laughed and the barkeep said, “Look who’s hurting now? Drinks on me.”

“What about Spike?”

No one moved from their chair, but said in unison raising their beers.

“Som nam nah” which in Thai means SERVES YOU RIGHT.