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Pattaya Trader
E-Mail: pattayatrader@pattayatrader.com
One Beer too Many
Disclaimer. Any similarity to any person/s or events
you might have heard of are entirely coincidental. The
characters depicted in this story are figments of the author’s
imagination.
Taken from Les Abbey’s Soi Shanties
***********************************************
It was only a few beers into the afternoon session at Barry’s
bar but the conversation was about the one beer too
many, that when drunk causes a grown man to topple
over or perform some embarrassing misdeed. It had probably
started because Robert, who had been in the bar
until late yesterday, but missing so far today, had made a bit of a
fool of himself last night.
Not that Robert had done that much according to Barry,
who had been talking with him right up until the moment that
Robert had yawned, closed his eyes, leant back on his stool and
then kept on going until hitting the floor. Barry had said that the
conversation was getting strange as he didn’t think himself and
Robert were talking about the same thing anymore. Tim asked
Barry how many beers Robert had drunk, but Barry wasn’t sure
except he had drunk less than half of the last beer Singha. Barry
also reminded the drinkers
that Robert still owed for his
bar bill.
Tim, a regular customer,
said “You can always
tell when Jon Slocum has
had too much. He always
drops his pants and dances
around the bar.”
Les followed that
with “Then again Tim the
fact that he always does it
should tell us a bit more
than that.”
“What do you mean
Les?” asked Tim.
“Well if he always does
it, you have to suspect that
it’s in his mind to start with.
The extra beer may give him courage, but he wants to expose
himself anyway. You know, he’s one of those exhibitionists. He has
to put on a show. If it wasn’t for us he would be flashing at some
little old lady in the street. In fact it wouldn’t surprise me if one
day we heard he had been arrested for that.”
“I wish he learned to play the guitar instead.” added Tim. “It’s
such an ugly site when he’s in full swing.”
“And it’s not as if he has that much to be proud of.” finished
Les to the accompaniment of laughter from the drinkers.
Pat Morrison started to tell his story. “A couple of months
ago I had one too many and it got me into some right trouble.”
he said. “I had just got in that evening from Libya via Rome and
had been drinking on the plane for the last few hours. I got a taxi
to the hotel, dropped off my bags and made my way to the Soi. I
stopped here first and had a beer didn’t I Barry?”
“That’s right.” answered Barry who started to grin.
“Said hello to you Les,” and turning Tim, said “and you too
Tim. I remember that.”
Both Les and Tim nodded
their assent.
“Then as always on a first
night in I walked down the
Soi to say my hellos and see
what’s new going on. I figured
I would find a girlfriend too.”
“So what happened?”
asked Tim.
“Well you have to remember
I was getting a bit
tired by then and that’s my
excuse. I had a couple beers
in various bars and then saw
a new bar had opened right
down the end. I thought I
have to go and check it out.
I could see the name board
said ‘Bullshooters’ and had a
picture of dartboard on it.”
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As Pat finished the last sentence there was laughter
from a few of the drinkers.
Pat continued “It’s OK you lot laughing but I
thought a game of darts is always fun with the bar
girls. I went through the door and it was a bit dark
inside. I thought I would sit down for a few minutes. A
nice looking girl came over and took my drink order,
but before it even came to the table I had dozed off.
Next thing I remember I’m being shaken awake and
another girl is telling me it’s throwing out time, two in
the morning. I asked for a fresh beer and whatever she
wanted to drink and off she went to get it.”
“So I’m coming too now and looking around
the bar. It’s still fairly crowded but I don’t recognize
anyone, customers or girls, which seemed unusual. I’m
thinking the bar owner must have gone upcountry
and got a whole bunch of new girls. So the girl comes
back with the beer and her drink, puts the new bill in
the cup and sits down with me. She chats away and
her English isn’t bad and I’m thinking I may have company
tonight.”
Pat takes a swallow of his beer.
One of the younger drinkers says “So go on Pat. I
can’t say I remember that bar.”
Barry answers. “No it didn’t last very long. It was
gone in a month.”
Pat picks up the story. “Well they didn’t seem
in that much of hurry to get the customers out and
we are chatting away. The girl, I think her name was
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Joy, was asking me about my
hotel and I thinking well my
evening’s sorted. Then she
grabs my hand and puts it on
her lap. Now straight away I
realize that there something
very wrong here. I said to her,
‘Is that what I think it is?’ and
she gives a knowing smile and
nods her head. Then I start
to look around the bar again
and see that maybe the girls
Adam’s apples are a little too
large and when they talk just
maybe their voices are a wee
bit to low.”
Pat takes another gulp
of his beer but he knows he
has the audience in his hand
so he drags it out a few extra
seconds. “Well as the Sunday
tabloids used to say, ‘I made
my excuses and left’. What I was really worried about was seeing any of you
guys and having to explain I had been sleeping in the Bullshooters for three
hours and didn’t know what sort of bar it was, which I certainly didn’t I’ll have
you all know. Of course the bull’s eye the customers were shooting for had
nothing to do with darts.”
“You didn’t have an epiphany then Pat?” said Les.
“What does that mean Les?” asked Pat.
“You know, a conversion, like Saint Paul on the road to Damascus. As
our friend Tommy Tee used to say, ‘Once you had the real thing, women are
second best’.”
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