Desperado

It never failed to amaze Bruce how much RNicky (not his real name), the manager at the infamous Eden Club reminded him of Antonio Banderas in Desperado. Well guess what was on TV the last night Bruce ventured into that infamous establishment? "Swear to God," the notorious atheist has written here as I further peruse his disc.

At least some scenes were on TV, being discussed in some local Thai TV show, maybe not the whole movie. (Later, tonight in fact, I attempted to cross reference the dates of Bruce's writings with the internet database of old TV schedules in Bangkok and... hey, that was a total waste of time. Surprise!)

~~~~~~~~~~~

(From The Chronicles Of Bruce)


"Thelma Hayek tiths man! Firm, rich, full, amaything," RNicky said.

"I expect nothing less from your ladies tonight!"

RNicky looks at me. "Maybe, maybe not. But look at thith!" RNicky has pulled off the rubber band that held back his hair and has let it fall forward, all floppy, black and greasy, over his face, over the top off of his black Eden Club t-shirt.

"Fuck yeah. Spitting image of Selma Hayek," chirtled moi.

"No, man! You teathing me! Antonio Banderath! Ith me! Theven yearth ago, you couldn't tell uth apart, man!"

I was in a difficult spot now becasue I was pretending he DIDN'T look like Banderas, but in fact he could've doubled for him, 5"7" height and all. I looked from the TV screen to RNicky and back. I looked back and forth between the a**l-sex bar-owner in Bangkok and the famous Spanish actor in Hollywood, and then forward and back again and really I was unable to tell them apart. They were absolutely identical.

"OK, OK, RNicky, you win. I'll admit Banderas *does* have some of your good looks, but only a fraction of your wit, charm and sense of humour!"

He slaps a palm against mine. "Bruthe, Bruthe, Bruthe! One of my betht cuthtomerth. But alwayth, the motht cheeky! I love you man! Stay healthy, yeah! Pick your girl good buddy. Thame prithe as alwayth. Hey man you want thome, you know, thome thigarette?"

"Special? No, no. I have to fly to Singapore tomorrow - they can detect it in your eyeballs man. They have this special scope at the airport these days. Says it's for SARS, but we know better, right?"

"Right!" laughs RNicky, who has no idea what I am talking about. SARS? Some new sort of drug?

I choose Moo, a transexual (I find out later) from Ayuthaya and the other side of the yellow line, and she chooses Arn from Isaan as her special friend. We duck out the back door (ironically), skip through some rain to the rear entrance (ironically) of the adjacent hostel. This is so stupid. Surely RNicky can rent some rooms from the pub next door, where they have a lift?

Will I live to see that day?

[Ironically - Ricky, fuck, Nicky, BOUGHT the pub next door and now has rights to the hotel rooms and the lift, or so I am told. Plus he makes a shitload on the pub-takings. Eden Club would sell pretty much zip alcohol. E@L]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And so I close the disc.

Some people may wonder why I only ever open the disc of Bruce's chronicles about Thailand when *I* also happen to be in Thailand... To those people I can only say...



I was sitting in the Hollywood Hawaiian Hotel,
I was staring at my empty coffee cup...

Except in dreams, you're never really free...

(WZ- RIP)

E@L