Thai, Thai and Thai again.

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There are two Thai boys who hang from the door frame of a massage parlour around the corner from me. They like to wave hello as I lug my cart back to the lock-up with one of their numerous hand salutations – the air piano wave, the finger bow, the kiss blow wave. My journey home is the wrong way down a one way street but I always manage to say hi while dodging black cabs and white vans. They came and saw me yesterday. They are so thin. Like two greyhounds taught to walk on hind legs.

“Heeeeey you no wear your big jacket. It make you look so fat tee hee hee.” The adaptable hands flitter in front of their smiling faces like modesty fans. “Now you look reeeely feeeet.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit warmer today.”

“Teeheehee. You like Thai food?”

I nod while shoveling green curry into my mouth.

“You like it spicy? Tee hee. You like it HOT? Tee hee hee. He like it hot.” They gently dig their pointy elbows into each others ribs. This is the strangest conversation I’ve had in a while.

Eventually they slink off. Every now and then one of them turns, faces me and stares. He waits til it gets awkward and then giggles while his friend pulls him away with mock resistance. Is he trying to mate with me?

I’m not very good at knowing when people fancy me but I think they’d be a dead cert. At the same time. For free.

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