Downturn

Elephants in procession dancing before a photograph of the newly crowned Thai king. Painted white and richly bedecked. A gift had been made of one to the regent a short while before. Between times a number of political assassinations of opponents had been reported who had taken refuge in neighbouring Laos, their bundled bodies found in the Mekong River. Another recent photograph had shown a royal audience of some kind with the commoner—possibly the former head of the king’s bodyguard/now queen consort—on all fours before the throne. In the Thai court they maintained the old animal crawl that the Tzars had used for any approaching the presence…. It was not easy for the twerpy guy who occasionally manned the register at Har Yas to gain the attention. An unknown shadow had fallen on the table. Scott in SOCAL had narrowly missed a hit in Bangkok a few years back, business competitors in with various policing forces. The Malaysian thievery and manipulation; the fix in Sing’; down in Indo the fat former general who had pranced on his white steed at his election rallies exerting maximum pressure on the re-elected President with all kinds of empty bombast. This little fellow here needed to yank strenuously on the chain in order to rouse a chap from those depths…. Hello, hello. Long time no see. At the best of times an effort turning up the charm and allowance for this guy. One should not be unfriendly. Some kind of jaunt elsewhere he had naturally assumed. What a life, hey! hotels, restos, beaches. En route to the 7/Eleven for his 4D ticket. It was Wednesday, right? Yeah, yeah, blah, blah. Firm as they come. Like his honour had been questioned and challenging to a duel. “More front than Myers,” they used to say in Melbourne for the biggest window display of the largest emporium in the city. The shirt had been ironed that morning; salt & pepper trimmed weekly and shaving without fail. Keeping an eye-out for the return of that signature stiff march. Another neckless fellow over-compensating. What was it with this down racheting everywhere here? In the evolutionary race in these parts sticking your head up one had been libel to get it knocked off? Not a Malay either this one. Avoid another exchange if at all possible; fellow had been accorded silver service first time round. Blue long-sleeve rolled? Taking his time, unless he had indeed slipped safely past. You had a feeling the man could not resist a second bite at the cherry going back; not often he had a white guy just where he wanted him. With a gal coming out of the bus the head had been lifted when the chap finally doubled back; despite turning aside the insistence on another round of pleasantries again. It was like a lucky token encountering this mysterious fellow with his pens and notebooks, newspapers spread. I took some numbers, but they were not yours. Like many before him, man had asked the Whitey for numbers. Some inspiration was sorely needed; chap’s own combinations had turned up nada this long while. Even with a close examination the sleeves were difficult to judge. Sky/baby blue, plain and unpatterned. But look more closely, above the crook of the elbow, a wide band of royal blue stripe on white, with what looked like buttoned-back roll. Only there did not seem to be any roll; no gathering of fabric. It seemed hardly possible that even the most dedicated neat-pin could achieve such precise measure. Gone noon—man had been at the Har Yas. register at least couple hours. Collecting the dosh and not looking down into the tray for change would have been difficult for some. This shirt was a new line, a deviation that had caught the man’s fancy on a rack at one of the Bugis malls. On the Equator long-sleeves were overkill, even on a drizzly day such as we had today. Could the man afford a maid, with the real estate market experiencing a downturn? (The gig at Har Yas. was only helping out now and again.) Even standing by the table the chap endeavoured to keep his head in the clouds. Throw him anywhere in the Balkans he could comfortably pass; perhaps a suspicion of gypsy blood in the lineage. Here the man was certainly a lighter shade than any of the Tamils.