Dr. Quack in Pattaya
When my wife and daughter are out of Pattaya, I eat at several 
restaurants; Scoby’s Pizza, Cap Breton, Toscana, Fat Tony’s, the Thai fish restaurant on Pattaya Tai Road and Big Al’s Taco Stand.
Big Al is an ex-extreme boxer who learned his cooking craft from extended stays with the California penal colonies. He had been a bad boy, but reformed in recent years to become one of my daughter’s favorite farangs.
She’s scared of clowns, monks, and elephants, but not a former armed robber (only drug dealers).
Big Al now has a problem. Actually he’s had the problem for a while and that is he’s overweight. Not by 5 pounds or his pants are little tight. Big Al now weighs about 160 kilos.
Steroids helped put of some of this mass. “I wanted bulk for the ring.”
I’ve seen VDOs of Al in the ring. Scary bulldog tough.
“Get im off me.” Would be my defense plea.
Big Al has been diagnosed with deep-vein thrombosis. Not hard to see why. His legs are as big as my chest and he insists on wearing those plastic clogs. Red ones. I don’t have any comments to offer Big Al on fashion. As he says, “I’m glad to find something that fits.”
I was having a Monster Burrito at his Soi Chaiyapoom stand and we were commenting on the passing girls and women. He liked about every one he saw, then complained about penile dysfunction. “Sometimes the blood doesn’t go where it’s supposed to, so i take a Viagra.”
“Damn, those things aren’t good when you’re as heavy as you.”
“Are you a doctor?”
“No, but I’m a hypochondriac and read everything I can whenever I think I have a rare tropical disease.” Plus my grandfather was a country doctor in Maine and I have a book from Merck about home health. I got it from my cousin David. He shot himself a couple of years back. The book doesn’t say anything about why.
“So thinking your sick all the time makes you an expert.”
“No just a little crazy and I never need anything to have sex.”
“I only want to make sure I don’t have a failure.”
“I can understand that, but be careful especially with those Indian Gels. Supposedly they open your capillaries all over your body, not only your cock. Some people say they have trouble seeing because their eyeballs have been fucked up by the gels.”
“And you think it’s true.”
“They give me a headache and hot flashes.” I finished by burrito and headed home.
Later that night I got a call. Big Al. “You know I’ve been thinking about what you said.”
“About what?”
“Those gels. I have trouble with blood circulation and I thought if those gels open your capillaries then they could help my blood flow better.”
A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, especially if the knowledge is coming from Dr. Quack aka me, but I have no problem following bad advice with more bad advice especially if my gut reacion is that the bad advice might help.
“Al, you have blood clogs in your leg. You open up your capillaries and one of them might make its way to someplace you don’t want it to go. Namely your brain.”
“Yeah, but____” Big Al had treated himself with speed most of his life, so he was also somewhat of a self-taught doctor.
“No, yeah, buts, don’t even consider this.”
“How long did it take you to get to 160 k?”
“About 6 years.”
“Then you’re not going to get to a 100 k in one night with a pill or gel.”
“Shit.” All he wanted was a short cut and I offered the only one I know. “Eat at the dirtiest restaurants. Get extreme diarrhea. You’ll shit 20 kilos in a week.”
“That sounds a little extreme.” And also like he was considering this option.
“Al, I’m no doctor. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Okay.” He hung like he was going to get a third opinion about the gels. but the next day Big Al said, “I’m going to do what the doctors tell me and not listen to you.”
“Good.” I said, then the waitress brought him a piece of fried chicken. “I thought you weren’t supposed to eat fried foods.”
“I’m only tasting it to see if it’s any good. Anything wrong with that?”
“No comment.” I didn’t want to get my license in quackery revoked and order two tacos. I know what’s best for me.
As for Dr. Quack doing house calls. I only hold consultations in bars.
