Trifter

I’d been in Phuket for about a week before the boredom kicked in and my mind mused about my next destination. All that deep thinking became thirsty work so I had a quick shower and headed for the local Irish bar for a pint of Guinness. What is it with these bloody Irish pubs? It seems to me that you can’t go anywhere in the world nowadays without seeing a Finnegan’s, Flannigan’s, Shinnigans or Shenanigans sticking out like a hitch-hiker’s thumb. Oh! Did I mention Shamrock, Shamus’s or Paddy’s?

Well, I’m going off track here so before I get carried away I’ll jump right back on it. So, I’m just about to seek refuge in the cooling calm of Killkenney’s when I saw her. 5’2’’, slim (but not unhealthy looking like most pretty young things today), brown and beautiful. Suddenly I’d forgotten all about the Guinness.

Well aware that I most certainly looked like a stalker, I stalked her. From a safe distance, whilst whistling Police’s ‘Every Breath You Take’, I followed her. With the shimmering sea to my right and lush green mountains to my left I walked straight ahead, to destiny.

After zigzagging away from the beach we finally reached a local restaurant in the form of some tables and chairs battling the pavement and an ancient array of cooking clobber. After sitting down and catching my breath she finally approached me to take my order.

  “You like?”

 “Yes, I do”

 “You like?”

  “Yes, I do like you, what’s your name.”

 “Mai Chai (no)! What you like order. Some food? Some drink?”

Oh the embarrassment! After walking for ten minutes I’d gone and fluffed it up with the very first words to spout out my mouth. Hoping that she would mistake my blush for a flush, I ordered a small Elephant beer, necked it in two, paid and retraced my footsteps back to the Irish bar, where I mulled over the thought that this girl that I’d just had an encounter with looked good from a far, but far from good up close. Nah… who am I kidding? She was drop dead gorgeous, and right now I’m so bitter I should change my name to John Smith.