The other day I ate a spicy catfish salad or yam pla muk foo followed by a beer. The combination sat wrong with my stomach and my sleep that night was interrupted by a disturbing dream. Somehow after a drunken night on Walking Street, I had been appointed mayor of Pattaya.
I was in the city hall. Everyone was waiting for my decisions.
I had all the power.
My first choice was to order a tub of ice water.
Clap of the hands and there it was. This was better than having three wishes from a genii. I could change anything.
My first command was to ban the police from interrupting any naked shows at the go-gos. After all I’m a firm believer in the arts.
Secondly to make up for this loss of income I directed the officers to fine the Chinese buses from rolling down the Beach Road 1000 baht easch, unless they parked at officially sanctioned areas to be served by baht buses.
Thirdly any westerners complaining about Thais would have to wear a clown suit for a day. This lesson in humility would teach them something about having a sense of humor.
Fourth ruling would be to institute frequent flier miles for bar fining go-go girls. Every 10th time you get one without having to pay the mama-san.
Fifth mandate was a complete ban wigs and sweep-overs for farangs as well as wife-beater tee shirts.
In my dream the crowd in the city hall was looking rebellious after these decisions and out right dangerous when I announced that 7/11 would have to serve free beer from 1pm-4pm every afternoon. The angry mob of 7/11 owners barged into my office to dethrone me and I woke up with my reign ended before I could build a trolley line electrified by the steroid juice monkey exercising at the gyms.
Mam asked what I was mumbling about, suspicious that I was cheating on her in my dreams.
When I explained my dream, she said I was out of my mind, but then said, “You not think of me.”
“Huh?”
“Why didn’t you ask for free beauty shop?”
She was right.
I was only thinking about myself, but then power corrupts even the best of me and I’m far from perfect.