A couple of drivers toddled off to Paddington each afternoon. Put a pound in the box... a flap drops down and there to be seen through the slot is a female sexual organ waving about. What happens is that one has to be quick or it will cost another pound. Hardly a tenner for each spank with a hair brush which a Judge will pay. One of the drivers, a scout master, the other, over eighty, still driving, still heavily into sex with his old biddy’s. Usually his ladies are quite comfortably off, having their own houses...... how they would sit at the top of the staircase with their thin varicose legs open, how he was to crawl up to them, dog like. It is not the odd practice, more the way he related it, dry, matter of fact, going over the more revolting details without the slightest flicker of self consciousness... as if delivering milk... his original profession. To look at him, smart, dapper, octogenarian always dressed with a tweed jacket, trousers, polished shoes, shirt, tie, white handkerchief. It would be hard to think that butter would melt in his mouth.
The other man, younger but basically the same mentality. We enticed him to Thailand on our very first trip, told his wife that he was going on Safari in Kenya! The short of it... he and I shared the same room and the same woman, changing over at exactly two thirty a.m. each morning. Forget the reason for this arrangement; probably cheaper... do remember that when it come to "Love" she wanted her money regardless of his desperate pleas.
He thought I was asleep, but had been listening quite intently to this scene from Romeo and Juliet. My watch showed three a.m. she, saying quite loudly, quite calmly, that she wanted three hundred Baht.
His reply being he 'Loved her’ kept repeating this, almost sobbing... not bad for a man over forty.
She too aware of life for any of that argument. In desperation he shook me... "Peter. Peter" a note of near panic in his voice. "Wake up ... give me three hundred"... Propped myself up on my elbow, looked at them, she completely naked... By her expression ... "Strictly money First", he standing in just his shirt, potless... cleaned out... Suggested he went along the corridor, had a whip round from the gang, no doubt, they would be delighted with his request at that hour. Anyway it was my turn... she, enamoured of me sufficiently to give credit... one of the few people....
He never did raise the money that night much of our amusement. On the last few hours of that trip he was not to be found. ...all waiting for the airport bus. Maybe, just maybe he was still back at the Grace Hotel... He was. Arms intertwined round our woman, glasses skewed on his head, almost weeping as we tried to drag him off and away...” leave me here... leave me here... I never want to go back" he was shouting... a not uncommon scenario out there. We understood why he did not want to go back when we returned him to his wife. A huge Irish lady, her arms heavy, folded across her chest. Unfortunately, she had seen, the night before, on the box, a program about the antics of old men in Thailand... Two and two most definitely do not add up to a Kenya Safari!
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