Saturday, 22 April 2017

Culture Shock



I shot her ear off. That's what you get for being an impertinent whiny bitch. Sure, a drastic slap around the head, but she had it coming. Should be grateful I didn't aim for her tiny prick. Our first date and she behaves like she already owns me. I hate that.

"Don' sit bent over plate."

"What you doin with hand under table? Wenking?"

God, I hate bad English. Makes me cringe real bad! Well, excuse me, but I've got a bad back and FYI I'm not obsessed with sex like you fucking trannies! Doesn't even have tits! Too expensive, sunshine? And those teeth! Bloody hell. Making such a big fuss about their clothes, hair and make-up and as soon as they open their mouth, it's like you're face-to-face with Terry, the London cab driver in drag. Such a boner killer!

I'm out. Didn't even look back. All I hear is plates and glasses smashing and Terry's hysterical husky scream topping it all. Chairs falling over, diners crawling under tables or flinging themselves onto the grimy floor. Easy guys, not here to cause any trouble. Oh man, this is gonna be awkward renewing my VISA tomorrow. Should be alright though. Nobody seems to be pointing any Iphones or Androids at me. Very wise. They don't want me to point back. 

Anyway, better keep a low profile until this blows over. Just to be safe, you know. I give it about a week or so before this little incident at Chiang Mai's Night Bazaar will have evaporated from people's minds. Not that bad. Really got to be working on my new book. I can get room service or just pop down to 7/11 in case cabin fever gets too bad. They're doing killer ready meals. Damn, my hand is still shaking. Back in the pocket it goes.




Written by Dom Ritter & T. Lewis

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