The deed is done!
Fare thee well; Mr Ting Tong, Screeching Lady, Singha John and Mobi’s Bar….
The bar is sold and the lives of Mobi and Lek can return to something approximating normalcy.
How did it happen so quickly?
It started last Monday. I was at home, not feeling well and planning to take a day off from the bar when I received two phone calls in quick succession. The first was from an Aussie who was drinking at the bar and told me he was interested in buying it.
We made an appointment to meet at the bar the next day at 5 p.m. to discuss it further.
I then received a call from an ex-bar owner, who I knew slightly. He had just sold his last bar/restaurant and told me that he was now interested in buying my bar.
I should add that this particular gentleman, (I use the word loosely), had also called me a couple of weeks ago when I had first put the bar up for sale.
On that occasion, he was quite rude to me on the phone, telling me to turn my effing TV off, (it wasn’t on, and saying my kitchen was ‘shit’ and almost ordering me to lower the sale price. I had agreed to meet him that night at the bar 7 p.m. but he failed to show.
Tales From a Barfly
My last week as a bar owner was quite a week.
A strange Scottish Gent
It all started last Saturday when around 11 p.m. a motorcycle taxi dropped off a farang outside our bar and the man stormed in, demanding immediate attention from the ladies.
He clearly couldn’t make the ladies understand what he was asking for, even when he shouted louder and louder in a broad Scottish accent.
I happened to be standing nearby chatting to one of our customers and he turned to us in exasperation.
‘Can you help me?’ he butted in, ‘I asked the motorcycle taxi to take me somewhere where I can find a girl for a ‘short time’. She must be under 21, and not had any babies. The bastard’s dropped me here in the middle of nowhere and driven off!’
My customer and I looked at each other.
Is he serious?
He repeated his demand while getting angrier by the minute. He made no attempt to sit down and order a drink. He just kept on with this strange request, demanding that we tell him where he can find a very young lady, (without a baby and absolutely NO stretch marks), who would go and sleep with him.