Next Wednesday

On my way out to work I stop in at the reception to pay my apartment bill – 280 baht for international phone calls I never made, and 1,300 baht for air-conditioning that I rarely use. As I leave through the front gates being careful not to wake up the security guard, the apartment owner pips his horn from behind the wheel of his new Mercedes.

Before work, I drop by the English language bookstore in Siam Square. I’m desperately looking for something that will spice up my lessons. The choice of books is mind-boggling. All of them seem to have wistful and romantic names like ‘Expressions’, ‘Whispers’, and ‘Lifestyle’ – names that are quite frankly more suited to a luxury panty liner than a range of English language textbooks. It takes me an age to select something I’m happy with, and at the end of the day I just want to grab the book, slap 250 baht on the counter and fuck off, but no……there’s the teacher’s manual to consider. Not to mention the workbook, the video, the class cassette, the student-counseling guide, and the CD Rom with supplementary dance-mat.

In the afternoon, I have a private one on one lesson with a Thai businessman. He is the product analyst for one of Bangkok’s leading pharmaceutical firms. He tells me that it’s his responsibility to meet with international clients and explain to them the merits of a whole range of cancer-fighting drugs and the advantages that original medicine can have over its generic competitors. After listening to him waffle on for half an hour and with my eyes feeling like they have lead weights attached to them, I ask him to think of some questions to ask me. He pauses for a moment, purses his lips and just comes straight out with the first question.

“Do you have lady Thai?”

I sink to my knees and beat my head on the carpet. Before breaking down into uncontrollable sobbing. Yes…..I would rather be driving a bus for the Greater Manchester Transport Authority.