On the way to total oblivion

As a human I`m at the end of a Karmic cycle being in the possession of the posibility to move on to the Buddhist concept of Nirvana, the Christian belief of Heaven or maybe a one-way ticket to Allah`s divine Kingdom.

The only thing I`ve to do is listen to the morality of my eternal soul, maybe enter a Thai Wat and get involved in Vipassana meditation, look for alms early morning and reject all wordly possessions, no more power, dominance, money grapping and all that comes with it, but most importantly...no more exoticism, no more erotic encounters with a post-coital coffee drinking session the next morning in a beach-side local restaurant looking in the still sleepy but highly satisfied eyes of a backpack lady from far away Europe

I enter the Cave Bar just after midnight having erotic encounters on my mind. The door is flanked by a gypsum Fred Flintstone, a fitting doorman considering the name of the bar.

Inside I discern more members of the Flintstone family place at random around the dank interior, kersosene lanterns hanging from the ceiling spread a difuse light in which I see the shadowy figures of a crowd of mostly youngsters somewhere in their mid twenties, alternative types with long Rasta hair, suntanned blondes with Scandinavian accents, brunettes with glossy lips speaking French and a few local waitresses hurrying from table to table.

Having a Black Cat whiskey at the wooden bar I eavesdrop on conversations around me, different languages of ancient Europe besieging my Farang ears,

"got my dive instructor`s certificate today".

"wir haben heute mit einer Grupe Scheiss Holländer getaucht".

"Vädern war mycket vacker idag".

Sultry eyes when I try to make eye contact with a balk haired petite that looks like French blood rules her veins. Rejected looks from a duo of blondes that were just discussing today`s weather in their native tongue. No way I`m gonna give the Bavarian lady dive masters a go...they just called my nationality Scheisse - sh*t.

I actually realise I`m in the local dive masters` hang-out. Dominance and arrogance are floating around here. No erotic chances for me in this place...I`m after all not a dive master living on a tropical oriental paradise...a lesser human being that doesn`t deserve their physical attentions....I`ve embarked upon their private territory by simply walking into this bar...better I fall in love with my Black Cat whiskey, order some more and annoy this crowd with my mere presence in their divine Temple of Gossip.

I`m three quarters on the way to total oblivion when I stagger home, back to my 300Baht bungalow through a dark Kho Tao, an opaque moon the only witness to my drunk raving.

written by  heraclio on April 19, 2009 from Ko Tao, Thailand
from the travel blog: Farang Chronicles.
Send a Compliment

comment on this...