NICK WAS UNHAPPY WITH his appearance. He decided long trousers should be worn instead of the shorts he always wore. Kev, sporting a look that said, 'I told you so.'
You would think in Bangkok, a city full of shops, buying a smart (ish) outfit would be easy. Not too expensive, but decent enough to woo the girl of your dreams, unfortunately not so. Shop after shop had nothing to suit. Some had male staff, some had female staff, and some even had "ladyboy" staff shaking their heads—nothing to fit a man of that size. The only answer was to get fitted at a tailor. The problem there was a lack of time. The original plan for the evening was to go shopping, have food and two beers and then surprise Nong at her place of work.
Instead, they hurried into the first tailor shop they saw. Like most tailors in Bangkok, it was staffed by Indians or Nepalese. They made very extravagant promises. But they were stumped. Even these guys had nothing to offer when they were told a pair of trousers and a shirt for Nick in under two hours.
'Oh! No Sir, I'm very sorry.'
A deep intake of breath, followed by a shake of the head, then.
'Wait, a moment, please. My friend can do it!'
'Do you believe him?' Kev whispered.
'Kev, remember your promise. Up to me this evening. I do believe in miracles!'
So off they went in search of Mr Lightening, tailor to the stars.
'He had better be lightning,' thought Kev.
They found a derelict Soi behind Sukhumvit Road. "Tailor to the stars" was halfway along—the only shop with lights on. The rest of the buildings looked ready to be knocked down, or fall down, whichever was quicker.
'Good evening, gentlemen! My friend Abdul telephoned me and told me you were coming and explained your dilemma. No one, not even me, "Tailor to the Stars", can make you a shirt and trousers in such a short time.'
He carried on after seeing the disappointment on Nick's face.
'But, I can alter a suit I made for a DJ in the Viet Nam war. They killed him. Not because of his taste in clothes or the music he played. Or his lack of a decent suit.'
'Christ, a dead man's suit, which has to be decades old,' said Kev under his breath.
'Let us have a look, please.' Nick was almost pleading by this stage.
Out it came - the material was okay, but it had very skinny-looking thighs on the trousers.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
'No problem, sir. I can alter the legs.'
'How do you make material bigger?' Was the unspoken thought Kev pondered.
'Come back in one hour, all finished,' said the smiling tailor.
After a quick measure-up, they left the tailor to his work. Nick is hopeful, and Kev is expecting the worst.
An hour later, they returned.
'One more extra hour,.please, sir.'
A crestfallen Nick did not see the upside, but Kev said, 'one more hour of beer!' Off they walked again.
In precisely one hour, they returned, and a smiling Mr Lightning said, 'all finished, sir.' As he held out his hand for 3,000 Baht.
'My God, you can buy three suits for that,' said Nick, who was out of practice shopping. In his determination to get fitted, he had forgotten to ask the price first.
'Better look at it and try it on, or wear it now. It'll save you going back to the hotel.'
'It fits. What do you think, Kev?'
'Wow, that looks great; however, did he do that?'
He was armed with a carrier bag containing his old gear. Nick walked proudly with his head held high. He marched along Sukhumvit Road, looking for Soi 4, the side street also known as Soi Nana.
Kev felt happy for his mate, hoping the rest of the evening would go as well.
Unbeknown to Kev, Nong had not been told they were coming. Nick had let this piece of information slip by. He had hoped to surprise the girl. But, in his love blindness, he didn't think she may have other plans. This could be a problem; Nong could be busy entertaining.
They opened the door to "Falang Connection", a trendy bar. The noise knocked them off their feet. Lights were flashing multi-coloured beams all around the ceiling and walls. A charming girl greeted them with a beaming smile, matching the glowing lights.
'Do you know Nong?' asked Nick.
The meeter/greeter girl nodded to the raised platform. And there she was. Clad in a tiny white bikini, dancing to the pulse of the music.
When she saw Nick, she jumped off the stage and disappeared. Nick could not be sure if one or two girls followed her. The lads knew where she worked and that she worked in a popular bar. They both thought she was the cashier, not a dancing girl.
None of this mattered to Nick, but it spelt trouble for Kev.
The two girls that had followed Nong to the changing room reappeared. They pushed a drunken patron outside they joined Nick and Kev. They showed the boys to a table and took their order. One girl went to the bar, while the other said Nong would be out in a minute or two.
The beer arrived at the same time as Nong. All three of the dancing girls were now dressed in civvies. Kev offered the girls a lady's drink. A "ladies' drink" in these establishments is given to staff by customers to make new friends. The glass is often Pepsi or Orangina, with a splash of cheap alcohol.
Nick looked anxious. Kev thought this was because Nong was dancing and not behind the cashier's desk. Or, he had noticed the 'customerʼ being shunted out of the door.
'Kev, I'm afraid I've got a problem.'
Dead right, thought Kev. Nick pulled him across and whispered in his ear.
'My trousers split when I sat down.'
Not only were they split, but they had also come apart at the seams!
Luckily Nick still carried his bag. He was using it to cover his embarrassment. Nick shuffled off to the toilets as the new strides fell entirely to bits. He dispatched the bottom half of his 3,000 Baht outfit to join the paper tissue which filled the bin. Then, again dressed in his comfortable shorts, Nick rejoined the table. The girls raised eyebrows in a query but thought twice about questioning Nick.
'I am gonna kill that Indian tomorrow,' he whispered.
It was getting late now, and Kev returned to the hotel. However, he refused Nongʼs friend's offer to go with him.
Kev had a lot of thinking to do.