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Like with most strangers, in both of these brief encounters with the linen officiator and the toilet goer he had respectively greeted and smiled at each of these individuals at the moments of seeing them with a sawadee khrap and a gracious nod of the head in place of the wai.
He smiled at the guard, staring at him with deliberate eye contact in order to project lucidity, which was after all a director's projection, a concoction, when man was a strand of knotted strands of chemical impulses, feeling, thoughts flowing down and dashing upon the banks of memory. "Sawadee khrap," he said with a wai. "Sorry, I guess I got lost in my thoughts. I Just broke up with my wife.
He had no sooner concluded his deliberation that one's choice of intrigues was in large part due to one's interpretation of failures and successes of parental and espousal models than, before he even knew it, he was at his seat and the Laotian was saying unto him a hello, which in the Thai- Laotian that they had concocted hours earlier was still "Sawadee khrap" with the accompanied gesture of the deferential wai.
"Sawadee khrap. Sabai dee mai? "Sabai dee. Where have you been all this time?" "Above you, of course, sleeping." "I mean since 5:30 when you thudded to the floor." "Oh, sorry, did I wake you?" Nawin's concern in this matter was only marginally genuine. For the most part it was feigned for the sake of kindness and to thwart this voice of distraction from his subject of deliberation.
It was a delayed response to Nawin's flippant comment of "I'm sure you will always be there for me." "Elderly?" "Khrap" he said with a wai. "Can you tell me your age. I mean how old are you honestly?" "Thirty something." Honesty did not always come out despite being summoned. "Elderly, as I said. How old do you think I am?" "I'd hate to know." "Seventeen." "Seventeen, really? Hmm."
His heart was palpitating less, his blood seemed to be cooling, and his thoughts seemed to be less obsessed by the sexual and the peculiar. Then someone sat next to him. Unlike himself or the one in the denim jacket who both had a golden brown complexion, his was a muddier, more turgid tone. He was also more muscular just as he remembered was his brother, Kazem. "Sawadee khrap," he said.
If the past, having founded the present, ceased to matter so would the present to the future which would mean that all would be immaterial. "Remember me? Sabai dee mai?" said the woman to both men. "Khrap. Sabai dee" Nawin said. "This is Nawin Biadklang, a nice enough Thai, I suppose," said the Laotian to his sister.
It indeed had been, in his opinion, for each minute, if not mentally connected to its predecessors, could be unique from all others and unpolluted in that sense. At least that was what he thought and so he laughed magnanimously. "Why not?" he said with fresh amusement in being with the Laotian. "Maw ni khrap" he called out to the salesmen pointing to all three and handing them each twenty baht.
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