Let me check my horoscope... in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

I looked around at the hotel room. On my way back from checking the bus schedule, two of the bar boys from the place I’d been last night asked hopefully if they’d see me again that evening. I didn’t reply beyond a smile.

My foot was hurting and I was honestly so perplexed about why I’d come here. I weighed the options. I had to turn in a Covid test for work by noon, and a bus ticket home is cheaper than the cheapest drink I had last night.

My vacation lasted all of 14 hours before I turned tail and headed back to Bangkok.

Bars perplex me here. I don’t understand how they function or what the point of it is. We sit in a chair that faces the road, which is fine if you’re with people, but I’m never with people and I’m certainly not going to talk to strangers.

I’ve had four different guys messaging me for the last three days to hook up, but I can’t bring myself to do it. They are all different types: the two young guys, the hot muscled guy that’s my age, and the 30-something yoga instructor. I keep using my foot injury as a way to put them off, but that’s not really my hesitation. I just don’t know what to expect anymore.

The doctor keeps messaging me, too, but he’s much more understanding about these things. Although, it’s always weird that I keep constantly running into his husband everywhere. I just need to slow down. Oh, and I forgot about the TV star who is always sending me ass pics while he’s on set or on his tour or something.

Ironically, the ditzy straight guy at work offered to set me up with one of the Thai teachers. He told me the guy was into me, “because I know you’re not into white guys,” he said. I just kind of laughed. He continued, “But do you shit where you eat?” I spat out my water at that… “WHAT?” “Would you date co-workers?” I answered him the same way I answered the bar boys in Pattaya.