Loy Krathong 2000 I spent the festival of light with the worst girlfriend of Pattaya.
Three months ago I met Mam and at a bar on Soi 3. I only had another week in Thailand. My next stop was Kathmandu. The Himalayas.
As we lay in bed Maam said sadly, “Why you go mountains, when you can climb me?”
There were a thousands of reasons, but I answered, “I not go to Himalayas. I stay with you.”
It was a big mistake, but we had a few good months.
For Loi Krathong she dressed in Thai finery.
Maam resembled a handmaiden to the goddess of water.
Even on a street where women serviced ‘farangs’ like me.
We drank at her go-go bar.
Maam danced on the steel pole.
A Saikh khiw báois’ or succubus on the prowl for sinners.
Mark knew her too.
He joked that she was danger. “More dangerous than a landslide.”
It was more of a warning than a joke, but she was good to her kids and in the morning she was a goddess to a man with a hangover.
I should have know better, because we both had more than a little fiend in us than friend.
