Tale of the waving guard

Tuesday November the 1^st

Isn’t it strange that sometimes the most normal of actions can lead to the most absurd of outcomes. As I write this I am still unsure of my future but more certain than ever that I am just as strong and determined for the truth as I always have been, even if today was a bit of a pickle.

I will start from the beginning.

Waking today was normal - routine was sharp and with my house chores done I set about doing the weekly shop. Carolyn is ill at the moment and today she snuggled in bed absent from school. I told her my plans and she requested as many head ache pills and cough sweets as I could find. Off I went.

The normal action I mentioned above was that of a security guard working at the school. Now, I must explain that the school employ a security team of quite a few. There are four main entrance gates patrolled by one or two guards at a time with a roaming team of ten to fifteen taking care of the grounds. The place is well-guarded -whether any of them would know what to do in the case of any emergency is up for debate, I personally don’t want to find out. No. Any way, the back entrance I usually seize is taken care of by the same set of three men at different times. The guard in question of the normal action is the morning guy.

Since I’ve been here the school guards have taken great pride in saluting me. I don’t know why -  Thai’s traditionally greet people with a wai (hands together under the nose and a bow of the head exaggerated depending on status), but although the entire team is Thai they choose to salute everybody. No matter where I am if a guard spots me he/she will stop; place feet together, stand as if a broom handle has finally been inserted and put a hell of a lot of effort into a full-fingered salute. At first I was confused and thought maybe they were poking fun but I’ve since been told they are instructed to do that to make us feel - I don’t know – better.

I have grown fond of the salute, I enjoy mirroring their effort, and I think they appreciate that. However, in the last few weeks I have noticed one guard – the morning guy at the back entrance – has stopped saluting. At first I was happy with it, yeah, one guy, had enough of empty gestures, sticking it to the man, but recently it’s seemed out of place. Other guards still insist on 100% effort, is it fair that he doesn’t even bother? Something wasn’t quite right.

I don’t know whether it was the confidence from my recent quests or the four bottles of iced coffee I’d had with breakfast but today I followed the guard once his  shift ended. I had a few questions I needed to ask and he had a few answers I needed to hear (about what and what, I didn’t know, but my hunch needed dehunching).

His shift ended at 1pm, I knew this as my curiosity had stalked him for the last week. I had done the weekly shop and told Carolyn of my afternoon strategy. I always let her know my whereabouts in case events evolve beyond my control, she is very capable when calming a seemingly silly situation. I need that.

He left just after 1 o’clock on his moped, I followed keeping a fair distance. Tailing a suspect is difficult, tailing a suspect in Thailand is a different cow all together. Driving through a red light, undertaking, going the wrong way down a one way street, not wearing a seat belt, having passengers in the pick –up, having more than two on a motorbike, reversing up a dual carriageway and driving without a licence are all illegal and completely ignored here...  You need to be skilled at fitting into the scenery, blending with other vehicles, which in its self is hard as they are often used as tools of death. Weaving, maintaining balance, cuffed by potholes and sliding on the sand, yes, keeping wits and watch on a fugitive in Thailand can be a torturous affair.

We arrived (alive) at Beach Road via a few stops about 40 minutes past 1pm. It wasn’t obvious that he’d noticed my pursuit so I assumed he wasn’t aware of my voyeuristic presence. He greeted few peers on his way into what I would call a seedy bar. I’ve wiped the name from my memory but I’m sure it was called ‘The Slit Joint’ or something related.

I had to follow but before entering I hesitated. ‘ I can’t just waltz in there, that would blow my cover’... A plan grew. I had to utilise my strengths and I had to do it quick, the heat was cooling and I had no intention of letting him grease through my fingers. My experience in disguises made my decision easy, I needed to be an Italian Argentinean, fast.

Many people go overboard applying their camouflage where as I venture to the convenient. Why spend hours bleaching my skin, backcombing my hair, implanting breasts, shaving my eyebrows, piercing my ears, wearing a fake nose or swapping my fingernails when I could just put on an impeccable accent, squint my eyes and slant the corners of my mouth?

I entered ‘The Slit Joint’. The blacked out windows hid a sordid picture of twenty or so scarcely dressed women bopping to a beat so loud it nullified the tune. The girls were in the centre on a stage dancing around poles whilst a continuous seating area around the edge sat smatterings of old Western and Indian men groping ladies a third their age. This was no time for pleasure, I was here with a task and whilst the full extent of my mission wasn’t clear I was in disguise and had to consider what Diego (my Italian Argentinean alter-ego) would do. Turned out he loved it.

I conceived Diego three years back when stuck for work. I was on the dole and the pressure to find a job was hot. I wanted my next vocation to be something I would enjoy so I set about figuring out what would be perfect for me. Private Investigator. I have a way with accents and upon my interview for the role I decided to create an alter ego. The plan was to convince them of Diego’s credentials and then to reveal my true self at the end. I was sure this tactic would work, it did, a bit too well. Turned out they were impressed with Diego but didn’t see where I’d fit in.

Today Diego had evolved, so much so that once the transformation took place I was not in control of his thoughts or actions, he ran the show and he did that convincingly.

“Wha you wanna drink?” said the lady as Diego sat down and studied his surroundings.

“I tell you a what, why donta you get me a drink of bier, colda bier from your fridge, damn woman don’t make me a beg,” Diego slurred as he winked and brushed the ladies hand. The joint was surprisingly busy for the time of day but still, making a mental note of all the beings present proved no problem. To the left were two 60 year old plus Westerners (probably Russian) sat with four girls, opposite, five middle aged Indian men surrounded one poor women and to the right grouped the bar staff (all female) and the girls not dancing. On the stage the dancing girls did their best to attract the attention of the Russians as that was were the money was. No sign of the guard. Maybe he was in the toilet, patience was key.

“Thank you my a love, you do a your job a well, maybe too well.” Diego murmured as the lady passed him his beer. She sat beside him placing her hand on his leg, gently stroking getting closer to the groin as time went by.

“You stroka my leg like you tame the anaconda no? Damn, woman, you make my blooda boil and my crotch a poky.” He grabbed her face to look deep in her dark eyes, grew closer and in a midst of wild lust he whispered into her ear “Where is the man who came in before me?”

“You sexy man, I bang bang, big discount for you.”

“Damn woman don’t a you understanda? This man has a secrets, Where is he?” Diego pushed her head away, frustrated, where had he gone?

“Biiiig discount… You sexy, like bang bang?” The woman gabbed his hand and placed it on her chest and thrust her hips to his, Diego had no interest in this woman, his goal was the guard. It was clear she knew nothing.

“Listen a lady, I am not here for youra bang bang, please leave me with my, uh, how you say? Drink?” The lady smiled. “You very sexy man. Maybe I pay you?” Again Diego protested and refused, she left.

Something was a miss so Diego casually strolled the joint and looked for clues. He checked the toilets and even had a look in the rooms used for ‘extras’, there was no sign of him and after an hour of beers and sexual advances Diego had ran out of ideas. Aided by alcohol he decided to relax, this was after all his scene, maybe the guard would show up?

I’m ashamed to say Diego went wild, I can take no responsibility for what he did. The advances were no longer refused and he encouraged women with drinks and tips all perfectly lined with his Italian silver tongue. The reasons for being there were now distant, silly even, and Diego afforded himself a chuckle. “I’m here because that guard waved rather than saluted! I followed him because of a stupid WAVE! Ha, I’m a losing it!” By this time nine women, all performing acts of unspeakable delight, surrounded him, but Diego wanted what he didn’t have.

Sitting opposite a lady more elegant than the rest, taller and with larger breasts had smugly refused his advances all day, which in itself was odd. It was clear she was an experienced lady of the night and Diego knew he had his work cut out. He excused himself from his congregation and approached the mysterious lady.  Diego was a charmer, he was cheeky but courteous, always respected his surroundings whilst pulling out incredible wit. Girls fell at his feet, especially when they were prostitutes, but this woman was different. Did she have another client in waiting or did she simply not fancy a night with Diego?

“Well, I a noticed you a find it hard to a talk.” Diego said as he sat close next to her. She starred ahead, barely acknowledging him.

“That’s ok, I understand, it’s a tough to talk to a me, I’m sexy and a suave, you struggle, all girls do at first.” Still no response. Undeterred Diego grabbed her hand and angled his head so she had a face full of him.  “All the girls I a want to pay for the sex, I choose a youa. Why prick a needles in my heart? Why douse a my soul with a youra thunderous stare? We are a natural beings in the midst’s of love, lets a consolidate our existence.”

The lady contemplated and for the first time they shared a glance. Gripping his hand she whispered “I no sex with you!” It was like a weight lifted off her chest. “Oh I love youra voice, experienced and deep like the radio presenter. Oh woman, lovely lady of a my lustful dreams, share a my fury, bed with me” he pleaded. The lady gripped his hands firmly “ouch!” moaned Diego as he noticed the grip tightened. “You understand, no sex, but, I do…” She then made what is only known as a blowjob gesture. Before Diego could thumb up or down the lady had unzipped his shorts and began the process in full view of everybody. Diego paid no mind, he’d wanted this woman and a few spectators weren’t about to put him off. “My oh my, this is a fantastic, oh, your hands, a make my Willy look a small!”

“I have big hands” the lady muffled.

Few minutes later the transaction was done. Diego paid for his moment and set about leaving and heading home. He said goodbye to the ladies who had hosted his stay so well and reserved his longest farewell for the lady with the magic touch. As leaving the door he turned to her and waved, she returned the gesture. It stopped Diego in his tracks and he didn’t know why. He thought nothing of it and headed home.

I transformed back to myself. I was angry with Diego for what he had done but understanding all the same. Diego was single and sometimes that’s the price you pay for creating such a convincing alter ego.

To get home I decided to take the back roads, it had far less traffic and gave me a bit of time to think about the events of the day and what I was going to say to Carolyn. I got to the school and was greeted with the opening of the gate and a familiar salute. Damn. It started to make sense. A wave of clarity came over me. I stopped my bike, got off and let it fall to the floor. Sat, slumped I wondered if my clarity was ill conceived. No, it wasn’t !

Steps to the truth

One thing I have learnt in my years as an investigator is to accept probability. Today, maybe because of distractions in the bar detective work wasn’t my primary goal. I saw the guard go in, I didn’t see him come out and when I investigated I saw no route of escape or reason for it. Now, this means the guard was probably still there, probably.

I walked through my door at 7pm. Carolyn greeted me with her usual hug and kiss.

“How was today? Did you find the guard?”

“Sort of.” I said hesitantly. Carolyn knew instantly something wasn’t right.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok?” She offered her hand. I seized and inhaled a deep lungs worth of air.

“The guard gave me a blowie, well, not me, Diego, he, got, the..... blowie.”

“WHAT! Who’s Diego? What? What’s going on? Why? Who? Why?”

“Well, remember when I didn’t get that job because I pretended to be someone else? Well, I pretended to be him again to aid me in my case and he went completely out of control - before I knew it I was being serviced by what Diego thought was a lady but it turned out to be the guard, I think, yes, it was definitely the guard, her wave, it was the same, as you know, the guards wave, and the guard is a man, but also a convincing woman, very convincing, so I was, you know? Mouth raped by a lady boy?”

My hurried plea did nothing to calm the mood, Carolyn was beside herself with anger and my attempts at explaining the sticky mess were met with ground shuddering “FUCK OFF’s!”. Huh. Maybe I had taken my work too seriously, gone too far. Maybe this case was one where I was the whipping boy, the laughing stock, and an inexperienced rookie at the wrong end of a giggle. Carolyn certainly isn’t going to forgive me up any time soon, and who can blame her?

But I’m buoyant. Yes, by default I received a bit of lady boy loving but I’m a detective, I’ve taken one for ‘team justice’ and although this particular case will not go down as a fine piece of subtle investigation, it will be my greatest lesson ever learnt… Wont it?

Case of the waving guard – solved.