Bar Girl (25 page)

‘You won’t be a cashier for long,’ Nok said, looking at her.

‘What do you mean?’ Siswan asked.

‘Oh, nothing,’ Nok turned her attention back to the television.

Siswan made for the door. She paused before walking out. There were three beds in the room.

‘You said there were three of us here?’ she asked Nok, indicating the empty bed.

‘Joy.’ Nok didn’t bother to look up. ‘She’s with a farang.’

Siswan left the room and walked back to the bar. When she arrived, Nong was still the only person there. The older woman, Siswan guessed twenty-nine, maybe thirty, was setting a small glass, filled with a brown liquid, on the monks shelf over the bar. To bring good fortune for the evening. She stepped down and gave a low wai to the image of the monk sat on the shelf.

Siswan waited for her to finish. She didn’t want to interrupt. On her first night she wanted as much good fortune as the bar could get.

When Nong turned and looked at her, there was a momentary look of surprise in her eyes. A slight shock, even.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to go with farangs?’ she asked.

‘Yes. Quite sure,’ Siswan answered.

‘Okay, but I think they are going to want to go with you!’ Nong told her. Siswan didn’t reply. She wasn’t too sure what Nong was talking about.

The farangs had hundreds, maybe thousands, of girls to choose from. She didn’t expect them to want her.

Nong started explaining how the bar system worked and showed her how to keep tabs on the check bins. Each customer got one each. Small wooden cups that Siswan was to put in front of each customer that sat down at the bar.

‘When anyone orders a drink, or drinks, put the top copy of the receipt in the check bin,’ Nong told her. ‘If we get busy, there may be a lot of calls from the girls for drinks. You have to stay on top of it all, okay?’

‘Yes. How do I know who’s drinking what?’ Siswan asked.

‘The girls will tell you. Just write out the receipt. Leave the copy in the book,’ Nong said.

She told Siswan how lady drinks worked. How the drinks seldom matched the receipt and how to account for each one in the ledger.

‘The girls will tell you what to write on the receipt, then place a tick next to their name in the ledger. That way we can pay the girl her commission at the end of the night,’ Nong explained.

Siswan didn’t see anything very complicated in the way the system worked. The receipts were all hand written. The ledger was just a list of names with spaces beside them. Nothing too taxing.

‘If any of the girls order their own drinks, don’t bother with a receipt, just jot the drink down next to their name. We can deduct the money from their commission, or their wages at the end of the month.’ Nong showed her the previous pages as an example.

When Siswan went back through the ledger the figures, scrawled notes and pencilled jottings looked a mess. There was no way she could make any sense of it all.

‘Now, if someone rings the bell,’ Nong pointed to the brass bell hanging over the bar. ‘Make sure you list all the drinks on the receipt.’

Siswan nodded her understanding. In truth she didn’t follow all that Nong told her. The system seemed easy at first sight but, after looking at the ledger again and checking the copies in the receipt book, it didn’t appear quite so simple.

‘What if one of the girls makes a mistake?’ she asked Nong.

‘What sort of mistake?’

‘Suppose she tells me one thing but actually pours out something different?’ Siswan explained.

‘That’s why you have to stay sober.’ Nong laughed. ‘You have to keep your eyes open.’

Siswan suddenly realised that being the cashier wasn’t going to be that easy. The system employed by the bar was so simple, so easy, that just about anyone could abuse it. All they needed to do to earn more commission was write an extra tick in the ledger.

‘Now, when the delivery boys come, with drinks, peanuts or ice, you pay them from the till and put their receipts in this drawer, okay?’ Nong continued.

Siswan looked in the drawer. There was a wad of receipts dating back almost four months. Most of them were just scrawled notes on blank pieces of paper.

‘At the end of the night, we pay the girls, or collect from them, deduct all the payments made for the deliveries, add up all the check bin receipts and work out how much should be in the till. If it all adds up we can go home,’ Nong told her.

‘What if it doesn’t add up?’ Siswan asked.

‘If there’s more money than there should be, that’s alright, if there’s less, it comes out of your wages.’ Nong smiled.

Siswan looked into her eyes. The woman wasn’t joking.

‘How do you check the money against what should have been sold?’ she asked.

‘We don’t,’ Nong told her. ‘It’s not that important, as long as there’s a profit.’

‘But how do you know if everyone is getting a receipt when they’ve had a drink?’

‘That’s your job, Siswan.’ Nong laughed. ‘That’s why you’re here.’

That night Siswan met all of the girls who worked the bar. Five of them altogether. Nong, who was in charge, Nok, who obviously thought she should be the leader, Joy, who turned up with a big farang on her arm, Bee, who hardly spoke and Mai, who never seemed to stop.

Nok had changed from her jeans and tee shirt into a tight mini skirt, black, low-cut blouse and a pair of high heeled shoes that looked, to Siswan anyway, as though they would cripple their owners feet.

Her mood had also changed. It was as though she was drunk. Not angry drunk, happy drunk. Almost silly. Childish, Siswan thought to herself. So different from the tired and sullen girl she had met earlier.

The farang, who had turned up with Joy, drank virtually continuously. Siswan was amazed that any man could drink so many whiskies. By the time he and Joy left the bar, he could hardly stand, let alone walk. Joy laughed to her friends as she staggered away supporting the big foreigner.

‘No boom-boom for him tonight,’ she told everyone within earshot.

Two more farangs turned up that night. One of them couldn’t keep his hands to himself. The girls didn’t seem to mind and Bee, who Siswan thought so quiet, happily sat and wriggled about on his lap.

Siswan tried to listen to what the farangs were saying. Tried to understand a little of their language. She didn’t understand any of it. The only thing she noticed was that several words were repeated again and again. The same words interjected almost every other word. The more they drank the more she heard the same words repeated.

She kept her eyes on who was drinking what. Kept the ledger and receipt book up to date and, when she needed to go to the toilet, even locked the books in the cash drawer. She was determined not to make any mistakes. She couldn’t afford them.

At the end of her first night she and Nong added up the receipts against what was in the till. It all tallied.

‘Well done, Siswan.’ Nong smiled at her.

‘It wasn’t so hard.’ Siswan smiled back.

‘No, it was a quiet night,’ Nong said, almost with a sigh.

‘How often does it get busy?’

‘It used to be every night,’ Nong told her. ‘Now, who knows? Sometimes, when we expect a quiet night, it gets really busy.’

‘The two farangs tonight,’ Siswan asked. ‘They kept using the same words again and again.’

‘All the farangs talk that way, Siswan. They swear all the time,’ Nong told her.

‘What are swear words?’ she asked.

‘Oh, words that the farangs use to express themselves,’ Nong replied.

‘What do they mean?’

‘Nobody knows anymore. Even the farangs don’t know. The words are just a part of their language.’ Nong laughed. ‘They were certainly interested in you, though.’

‘Really?’ Siswan was shocked. ‘I didn’t notice.’

‘You were too busy. Their eyes followed you everywhere and the things they said.’

‘What things? What did they say?’ Siswan was curious to know.

‘Oh, you know. Sex. That sort of thing. One of them said he’d never seen such a good looking bar girl.’

‘But I’m not a bar girl. I’m a cashier,’ Siswan said.

‘Doesn’t make a lot of difference to the farangs.’ Nong laughed. ‘They think they can buy any girl they see.’

‘Well, not this one,’ Siswan said, emphatically.

‘Don’t be too sure, Siswan,’ Nong told her. ‘I’ve seen many a young girl swayed by the lure of farang money.’

Siswan didn’t reply. She knew in her heart that she wouldn’t be swayed. Wouldn’t be lured. There was no way to prove it. Just wait and see, she thought.

‘Anyway, it’s time to go,’ Nong said. ‘Let’s lock up.’

Nong showed Siswan how the big wooden boards slotted across the back of the bar to secure the optics, stereo and television. The boards were fairly flimsy and the small padlocks holding them in place would be easy to remove if someone wanted to steal anything.

After saying goodnight to Nong and offering her a wai, Siswan walked back to her new room. The sound of Nok, snoring in her sleep, welcomed her as she opened the door.

The following morning, Siswan awoke early as usual and made her way to the beach to meet Karn. The old woman was pleased to see her and happy to sit and listen to Siswan’s account of her first night in the bar.

When she spoke of Nok’s change in mood, Karn nodded in confirmation of what she knew.

‘Ya Baa,’ she said.

‘What’s that?’ Siswan asked.

‘Methamphetamine. A drug. Some of the girls take it to stay awake or to put them in a good mood. Some can’t work without it. Problem is, after the effects have worn off, you sleep all day long,’ Karn told her.

Siswan didn’t understand why anyone needed to take a drug in order to work but at least now she understood why Nok had still been snoring that morning.

‘A lot of the girls don’t like what they do, Siswan. Some get drunk, others take drugs. Then it doesn’t seem so bad,’ Karn added.

‘But if they don’t like it, why do they do it?’

‘To pay the family. Take care of their children. All sorts of reasons. Maybe their boyfriends or husbands make them do it,’ Karn said. ‘Of course, there are also girls who enjoy what they do. Usually, they’re the ones who don’t need drink or drugs.’

‘Did you take drugs, Karn,’ Siswan asked, quietly.

‘No. I didn’t,’ the old woman answered. ‘That’s not to say I enjoyed what I did though,’ she added, with a laugh.

‘So, what happened? Why are you working the beach now?’ Siswan asked.

‘When I was young, and attractive to men, I came here to make money. I had a child and a family to support. Nothing too expensive. All I had to do was provide enough for food, clothes. The basics, really. It was easy then. Not too many girls worked the bars,’ Karn told her. ‘It was frowned upon by everyone. No one liked, or respected, a bar girl.’

‘Has that changed now?’ Siswan asked her.

‘A little, yes,’ Karn said. ‘It’s complicated. A bar girl loses respect from men. No man wants to pay a dowry for a bar girl. No family wants a bar girl to marry into it.’

‘So, she becomes an outcast, then?’ Siswan questioned.

‘For a while, yes. But if she makes a lot of money, returns to the village and buys back her respectability, then she becomes acceptable once again. It all depends on how much money she can make.’

‘Did you make a lot?’ Siswan asked.

‘Would I be working a beach, if I had?’ Karn laughed. ‘No, I made the biggest mistake of all.’

‘What was that?’

‘I married a farang,’ Karn told her.

‘Why was that so bad?’

‘He didn’t have a lot of money. When we went to the village, for him to meet my family and for me to collect my son, he couldn’t afford to buy my respectability,’ Karn said, wistfully. ‘It was different back then. Now, lots of girls take farang husbands.’

‘What happened?’

‘Oh, we stayed together,’ Karn said. ‘You see, unlike some of the girls, I didn’t marry him for money. I married him because I loved him.’

Siswan looked at her old friend. Without thinking, she reached out her hand and placed it on top of Karn’s.

‘What happened to him?’ she asked.

‘He died twelve years ago,’ Karn told her, with a smile. ‘He was a good man, Siswan. He had a kind heart and laughed easily.’

‘Did he swear a lot?’

‘How do you mean?’

Siswan told her about the two farangs in the bar. What Nong had told her about the way they spoke.

‘No,’ Karn said, with a shake of her head. ‘He didn’t use those words. I hear the farangs talking now. They don’t know I can understand them. It’s not good, what they say about the locals.’

‘You understand the farangs?’ Siswan asked, in surprise.

‘Yes, of course!’ Karn laughed again. ‘I was married to one for over thirty years.’

‘Can you teach me?’ Siswan asked.

‘Only if you’re willing to learn.’ Karn looked at her.

‘Yes. I’m willing,’ Siswan said, truthfully.

*****

For the next year, Siswan worked the bar during the nights and, during the days, spent a lot of her free time with Karn learning English.

When she wasn’t with Karn, and whenever Joy and Nok were out of the room, she would turn on the television and watch the news programmes. She began to learn about her own country. The politics, the superstitions, the problems and the apparent solutions. The first thing she realised was that the country was run by men. Women were subservient. Second class.

Whenever she could, she read the local newspapers and, after a few months, started reading the ones printed in English as well.

When she walked down to the beach or the bar, she would read all the shop signs, the bar signs, the restaurant signs. She read them again and again. If a sign changed, Siswan was the first to know.

She came across a small shop that sold second hand books. They were cheap and, when she took them back, the shopkeeper gave her half her money back against another. She read only those books that were in English. Simple ones to begin with, then more complicated. Any problems she had, she resolved with Karn.

She listened to the conversations in the bar, on the beach, or sat outside the coffee bars. She paid particular attention to how the farangs interacted with one another. How they gesticulated as they spoke. Their mannerisms.