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The Girl With The Eyebrows Has Moves

Phuket, Thailand.

“Why don’t you come over tomorrow and I’ll prepare you lunch,” she asked, while clearing the empty plates and cleaning down my table.

“I thought tomorrow’s your day of rest?”

“I mean to my location, not the restaurant. It’s simply a space, but I have a little electrical range that I utilize on the terrace. I can prepare pad krapow moo for you.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But let’s go get some drinks tonight.”

Living in Thailand was altering me into a classification of male that I never thought I ‘d be. Though it’s also a category of man that’s so exceptionally foreign and unreasonable that it’s become downright remarkable for me to observe. I gleefully see myself as if I were viewing some mindless simulation in a video game. What’s he going to do now?! What zany adventure will befall him next?!

The category of man that I speak of is the kind that chooses up his waitress at a small, outdoor dining establishment next to his fitness center in an alleyway in Patong, Phuket, and then sleeps with her.

Though I didn’t imply to choose her up or sleep with her. We were only making breezy conversation about my favorite Online dating thai girls (thairomances.com) dishes and the ones that she excelled at cooking. It was a late afternoon on a Tuesday throughout low season, and so the restaurant was empty and Phuket was uncharacteristically peaceful. The residents were simple, almost tired, almost unpleasant, and in need of social interaction. All of it happened so organically.

She was my waitress– the only waitress, really, in that 10-seater joint– in her early twenties with chunky hair, soft features and fair skin that exposed her Chinese ancestry. She dressed fashionably in denim black joggers and matching black V-neck, an only bra strap teasingly exposed, with fashionable, tortoise-shell glasses well balanced precariously on the idea of her nose. She was assembled well with the exception of her unnaturally thick eyebrows, balanced and too arched, that were seemingly made use of with a broad, felt-tip marker, the kind with the dizzying fumes. They were too extravagant to be an error, and she was too flawless otherwise, so I assume they were a new pattern that I was uninformed of.

“You’re not from here,” I stated. She didn’t fit the profile of the other locals.

“Chiang Mai,” stated Eyebrows. “I’m brand-new, though. Eight months.”

“So how come there’s no good pad krapow moo in Phuket?” I asked her. Pad krapow moo– holy basil pork– was my dish of choice that I would take in every day in Thailand. Sometimes twice. Constantly with a fried egg.

“All the great chefs transferred to Bangkok to open restaurants and Phuket’s stuck to the leftovers. The cook here is alright, but I’m better. He won’t let me touch anything, however. Possibly in a few months.”

“You like to cook?”

“Hey, I’m from fucking Chiang Mai– I can cook anything!”

Eyebrows had an edge to her that was too audacious for a Thai woman, who are typically meek and scheduled while the sun’s still up. I chalked it as much as her living in Patong Beach, where she should be struck on numerous times a day by inebriated, obnoxious immigrants on trip. (Thankfully, I wasn’t any of these things at this uncommon moment.) The joint was empty so she talked and sat while I consumed, about her household in Chiang Mai, her uncle’s dining establishment that we were sitting at, and how she thinks she was embraced since she’s a “beach, not mountain, lady.” I completed my pad krapow moo and she cleared the meals.

“Why don’t you visit tomorrow and I’ll prepare you lunch?”

Bizarre– I never got this kind of invite previously, especially from somebody in the service market. This should be the deal in Phuket: it’s common for the waitresses to date the clients. This shit would not fly in Bangkok, or anywhere else worldwide.

“Maybe,” I stated. “However let’s go get some beverages tonight.”

Eyebrows got off work at 9pm. I left my motorbike at my hotel and strolled back to her uncle’s restaurant, in the alleyway next to my gym. She appeared shorter than before, but the eyebrows were the same. We walked a few blocks north to Bangla Road, rather potentially the most terrible street in all of Southern Thailand (drunk tourists, undesirable promotes, flashing intense lights and thumping techno), but we were in the mood for live music, and Bangla Roadway was the place to get it.

We hopped from bar to bar on the main pedestrian drag, struggling to find a location that matched our state of mind. Some places were too sports-barry, while others were too Russian hookery. Bangla Road has actually evolved dramatically over the previous decade considering that I first came here, the most incredible change being the white backpacker girls who are now distributing flyers for the Pussy Shows, obviously attempting to finance their extended journey, while their regional teenage bosses lorded over them with 50 baht notes. How the tables have actually turned.

I adhered to shitty mojitos (since there are no good mojitos on Bangla) and Eyebrows downed shot after shot of tequila.

“I don’t really like to consume,” she said. “My secret is, I just have 4 or 5 of these, and after that I’m great for the night.”

“If anyone has four or 5 of those, they’re good for the night. That’s a dumb trick,” I stated.

“You’re dumb,” she said.

So Eyebrows consumed her tequila and I consumed my mojitos and we wound up unavoidably intoxicated and undoubtedly making out in the corner of that huge beer hall at the entrance of Bangla, the one with the full phase and live music. There was a Filipino cover band with each band member dressed from a various genre: a Bob-Marley lookalike on skins, a spectacular goth chick on bass, and a flamboyant, androgynous diva in a red velvet jumpsuit with a cigarette mustache and slicked back hair. He was all over the place, blending pop music from Michael Bublé to Beyoncé to YMCA.

Eyebrows took her 6th shot of Cuervo and I changed to San Miguel Light to hydrate.

“What should we do now?” I slurred.

“We can go around the corner to the other bar, or go consume moo ping,” she used.

“You know what I wish to do?”

“What?”

“I want to find a location to lay down with you.”

I chose my words thoroughly so regarding not come off weird, but then came off even creepier than if I had just stated, Let’s go someplace and fuck. “I desire to discover a location to put down with you” has an odd, morbid undertone to it, does not it? Like, “I want to lay down with your still-warm corpse …”

“Okay.”

We talked about the logistics: we could not go to my hotel because all visitors were prohibited. We were in Patong, Phuket, after all, and hotels didn’t want the danger of unregistered hookers running around, stealing toilet paper and stabbing their customers. And online dating thai girls Eyebrows resided in a female-only dorm where visitors weren’t enabled after sundown.

“There need to be a love hotel,” she stated. We wandered the blocks surrounding Bangla Road, littered with motels and hotels and hostels, searching for any indicator that they charged hourly rates like in Tokyo. No such luck. We asked the front desk of one of the mid-range hotels, and they gave us a suspicious and disgusted (dispicious?) look and said, Mai mee– offered out! then shooed us out. We were unwilling to try that again.

“How could you not know of any?” I asked her. “It’s fine that you have actually done this in the past. I’m great with it.”

“What kind of girl do you think I am?” she said. Well …

“Let’s simply go to my hotel,” I stated, defeated. “I’ll just pay for another guest.”

We went to my hotel and, fortunately, the front desk was unmanned. I quickly ushered Eyebrows to the elevator and we snuck as much as my room on the 17th flooring, kissing in the elevator and passages along the way. We swiftly got and undressed into bed where we had normal sex till the end, when Eyebrows needed to perform an extraordinary completing relocation in order to activate her own orgasm. We rested and she performed her maneuver again, with surgical accuracy and consistency, and we came simultaneously and violently, like some fabricated scene in a shitty Hollywood motion picture.

We awakened in the middle of the night, tangled, not understanding where one body ended and the other started. Eyebrows put her clothes on and I bid farewell to her at my door rather of the lobby.

The next day, I moved to a hotel in downtown Phuket, far from the tourist communities and closer to my coworking office. Eyebrows didn’t seem stunned. “Okay, well it was excellent to meet you,” she messaged.

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