Thailand July 2008
The elevator ride to the 35th floor is an interesting stage for watching the acts and scenes that make up the Bangkok drama.
I am privy to the somewhat normal elevator actions of: the tourist with shopping bags in hand; the businessman on his way to breakfast; the resident who no longer feels the need to wear more than a robe on the way to the pool.
In Bangkok there is yet another scene, which I watched again last night.
Cast: Prostitute 1, 2&3, Fat Old US Businessman, Me
Curtains open:
Ground floor. Silence. Observation.
26th floor. Ding.
“He is fat,” she said.
“You are fat, she said,” she said.
Number three remains silent.
29th floor. Ding.
“Thank you,” he said as he patted his belly. Pause. “Did you have to work already today?”
Yes, in unison.
30th floor. Ding.
“Japanese?”
Yes.
34th floor.
Fat Old US Businessman exits the elevator with his three prostitutes, perhaps not older than 20 years of age and clad in denim shorts and pink glittery jackets, hanging on his arm like Christmas ornaments.
35th floor. Exit stage left.
Curtains close.
Please hold your applause.
