The agony in my ass was furious and all consuming, so my first tearful stop was the pharmacy. The pebble that screamed between my butt cheeks was now a dull constant ache that reached my finger tips. Why after all these years of evolution, would man, who can fly to the moon, have to suffer this? I was in a horrifying state, the pain absorbed all of my thoughts and just as I was close to crying out for help, for the second time on my holiday the Angels sung for me.
That little green and blue cross is the same in every language and hallelujah to the motherfucker who invented it. There she was, amnesty, pharmacy whatever you wanna' call it. At that point, soothing ass relieving cream that's what I called it. I went in there, all confidence chewed up like cows cud, and with a held back tear said, 'Haemorrhoid cream please.' She knew the word, I wasn't the only man to ever ask for haemorrhoid cream. But fuck it's embarrassing man, like asking for condoms and some KY jelly.
Like a crab with the winning lottery ticket, I edged outta' that place before making my way up two flights of stairs to the public toilets. Some people I know don't like to sit on public loos in case they catch something. I always wonder if I'm the guy they're worried about. I smeared that creamy cooling goo in and around my tender throbbing ring hole, the soothing effect working its magic almost straight away. The heavens had opened and for the first time in two weeks the most prominent thought in my mind was not this grizzly shard of hell buried between my ass cheeks. I swallowed a couple of pain killers, courtesy of the pharmacy and went to check out MBK.
MBK is massive, too big to take in all at once it's filled with stuff the same price as London, and really, after a few minutes I packed it in and went out onto the street for a fag. I didn't wanna' do too much walking in case all the rubbing set my ass off again. There was still an hour to go and I was contemplating lunch, when straight across the road from where I was smoking, I saw a fancy Thai massage place was open for business. Oh, what better way is there to kill an hour than have some little Thai lady walk all over you? I was on it like the flash.
Inside, the place was plush with ornate carved wood lining the walls, and a small pond with Carp nestled in one corner. The sound of trickling water added to the effect of calming you. A thin middle aged gentleman was manning the reception. The smell of tiger balm and incense wafted all around.
'We do many type massage,' he said, as he handed me a leather bound menu, 'Thai, Swedish, oil, three hundred baht thirty minute, five hundred for 'our.'
'An hour please.' Lush as!
'Sit here please,' he said, pointing towards a leather arm chair. With the tinkle of a bell a woman who seemed not much older than me came down the staircase off to my right. First she removed my shoes and put my feet in an empty brass dish. She disappeared for a second and came back with a copper kettle then poured the warm soapy water, first on her hand to check the temperature and then down into the bowl. With a sponge she gently rubbed my feet, and between my toes. After the chaos of the last week in Laos and the shit splashed on those feet in Vietnam, and the adventure that was Cambodia, I could feel every tension and knot ease. The water was perfumed and smelt like bubble gum, the forgiving softness of the lounge chair I was in, meant I could breathe freely without that soreness from the diamond stuck up my ass. Oh man, the seat on the bus from Laos to Bangkok had felt like I was sitting on a plank of wood, only somehow I was perched on top of an invisible nail half through the plank.