3.
He wasn't a hooker. Not even close.
Of Course he wasn't.
Why the fuck that was my very first assumption is totally beyond me. It probably had something to do with his voice. Blind I may be, but the one thing I have honed perfectly well is definitely my hearing skills, and trust me when I say that even muffled through the close door one could easily tell that it was smooth as butter. You know the type that sends a tingle down your spine when that voice is whispering sweet nothings in your ear. A voice that obviously belonged to one who was an expert in the art of pleasure. A pleasure that I had obviously never ever experienced. Wait, is that why that was literally my first thought? What the fuck was I even talking about anymore? God alone knows, cause I feel I have gone slightly crazy.
And trust me Sol very much thought the same when I called to yell at him for his sick sense of a joke who couldn't stop laughing for a good 10 minutes at the mere thought that I had branded a poor innocent soul into a prostitute.
What he really turned out to be was a delivery boy. A grocery delivery boy to be more precise. Actually a little more of a personal shopper if you may call it that. Which if you think about it makes a much better surprise gift for a blind man left all by his lonesome than a hooker. Well, maybe.
So when the kid showed up outside my door once again the next day you bet your ass he got an earful for letting me get those wonky thoughts.
"You! Kong-something, why the fuck didn't you tell me you weren't a hooker?"
Except nothing but silence greeted me. Obviously when that happened I am more or less at a complete loss as to what the creature on the other side of the door was up to. Did the man not know my blind ass couldn't really read his expression through the intercom screen. Oh wait, he didn't.
"Hey! Cat got your tongue or something? Yesterday you had so much to say and today you are behaving like someone is mummifying your sound hole."
"Well, I was just wondering what sort of people normally come by your door that I need to introduce myself as Kongpob-the-non-hooker before you will even entertain what I have to say. Are there only those two categories or something else I need to be aware of too? Oh and just to be clear I am not a stripper, masseuse, or an exotic dancer either."
"Ha ha. Funny, funny. Mighty sharp mouth you got there, don't ya?"
"Obviously not sharp enough cause it took me three days to just get you to listen to me. Now before you get me fired in my very first week can we please get down to business. What all do you need me to buy for you?"
"Not so fast smarty pants."
"Now what?"
"I need to verify you are who you say you are."
"I am Kongpob, the non-hooker. What more do you want? You can call the company and confirm I am the one they sent."
"Yes Einstein, I obviously already did that."
"So?"
"So I need to know you are the infamous Kongpob ofcourse. Place a photo id in front of the camera please. Chop chop now. We don't have all day to save your job now do we?"
Dead silence was closely followed by a rather distinct mumbling of the boy who was wondering to himself what god he had offended in his past life to be stuck with a grouch like me. Well, at least he had my personality pegged perfectly, as I heard more rustling which was hopefully leading to him snapping out his wallet to follow my instructions.
Now obviously you are quite aware that the man could very well be turning around right this instant, bending over while dropping his pants to flash his potentially well rounded butt to the camera and I would really have no way of knowing. But you see since I am quite the stickler at having my blindness not be widely popularized now that my saviour has taken a sabbatical from protecting me from swindlers, this little charade was quite important. Hopefully, Mr. Kongpob, the non-hooker, would never really get the chance to discover the truth.
"Here. Happy now? Seriously man, I have never seen a more suspicious soul than you."
"Is that so? In that case I am quite at leisure right now. You can thank me to your heart's content for broadening your knowledge on human behaviors."
"Oh trust me I will be thanking you along with all your ancestors as soon as you sign up for the service next."
"Not just yet. We still need to see if your hands and feet are as competent as that mouth of yours."
"In that case, can we please get down to actual business please?"
"Alright, let's start. I need one large bag of sugar. The two pound one. Brand CTR. It must be..."
"Wait, wait, wait, aren't you going to even open the door?"
"Nope."
"Seriously?"
"Do I sound like someone who knows too many jokes."
"I guess not."
"So yes, sugar. As I was saying..."
"You are seriously going to talk through the intercom the entire time?"
"Obviously I don't want you distracted by my overwhelming beauty. This is all for your sake really. Now do you not want to get me some sugar or what? You keep interrupting me."
I swear what followed was the most pronounced sigh that could ever exist. I nearly felt his breath brushing against my skin even through the closed door, as he finally gave in to the terms of our exchange.
"Fine, fine. First thing is sugar. Next?"
"Oh no. Not just sugar. It has to be the two pound bag. It also needs to be from the brand CTR. The finely granulated one. I am not fond of chunks you see. Oh and also make sure there aren't any tiny rips or tears in the bag."
"You know what, Mr. Rojnapat, I am seriously rethinking the non-hooker part as a side job. Anyway, one non-ripped, finely granulated, two pound sugar bag from CTR. What's next?"
I must be honest, it was a rather unexpectedly enjoyable experience ordering someone else to go attend to my shopping needs. Especially since Sol, who normally did grocery shopping with me, was probably the most careless consumer ever.
Now I know I come off as an annoying stickler with a rather thick rod up my butt, but guess what a blind man living alone is in desperate need of? You might be tempted to say CTR brand sugar, but the correct answer obviously is consistency. There are only so many times a man can mistakenly brew red chilli powder instead of tea before he learns to recognize the feel of each container by the mere brush of his fingers.
And turns out, a loud mouth this Kongpob fellow might be, but at least he was good at following instructions. Cause that evening when I went through the bags of groceries he had left outside my door, I found everything exactly the way I had ordered. Except, one additional item I had definitely not asked for.
Taking the mysterious box in my hand, I felt around the texture to get any clues as to what it might be. Giving up trying to guess its content I finally ripped open its side to have my jaw instantly drop to the floor in surprise.
I think Kongpob-the non-hooker, just gifted me, the sworn virgin, a large box of condoms.
Of Course he wasn't.
Why the fuck that was my very first assumption is totally beyond me. It probably had something to do with his voice. Blind I may be, but the one thing I have honed perfectly well is definitely my hearing skills, and trust me when I say that even muffled through the close door one could easily tell that it was smooth as butter. You know the type that sends a tingle down your spine when that voice is whispering sweet nothings in your ear. A voice that obviously belonged to one who was an expert in the art of pleasure. A pleasure that I had obviously never ever experienced. Wait, is that why that was literally my first thought? What the fuck was I even talking about anymore? God alone knows, cause I feel I have gone slightly crazy.
And trust me Sol very much thought the same when I called to yell at him for his sick sense of a joke who couldn't stop laughing for a good 10 minutes at the mere thought that I had branded a poor innocent soul into a prostitute.
What he really turned out to be was a delivery boy. A grocery delivery boy to be more precise. Actually a little more of a personal shopper if you may call it that. Which if you think about it makes a much better surprise gift for a blind man left all by his lonesome than a hooker. Well, maybe.
So when the kid showed up outside my door once again the next day you bet your ass he got an earful for letting me get those wonky thoughts.
"You! Kong-something, why the fuck didn't you tell me you weren't a hooker?"
Except nothing but silence greeted me. Obviously when that happened I am more or less at a complete loss as to what the creature on the other side of the door was up to. Did the man not know my blind ass couldn't really read his expression through the intercom screen. Oh wait, he didn't.
"Hey! Cat got your tongue or something? Yesterday you had so much to say and today you are behaving like someone is mummifying your sound hole."
"Well, I was just wondering what sort of people normally come by your door that I need to introduce myself as Kongpob-the-non-hooker before you will even entertain what I have to say. Are there only those two categories or something else I need to be aware of too? Oh and just to be clear I am not a stripper, masseuse, or an exotic dancer either."
"Ha ha. Funny, funny. Mighty sharp mouth you got there, don't ya?"
"Obviously not sharp enough cause it took me three days to just get you to listen to me. Now before you get me fired in my very first week can we please get down to business. What all do you need me to buy for you?"
"Not so fast smarty pants."
"Now what?"
"I need to verify you are who you say you are."
"I am Kongpob, the non-hooker. What more do you want? You can call the company and confirm I am the one they sent."
"Yes Einstein, I obviously already did that."
"So?"
"So I need to know you are the infamous Kongpob ofcourse. Place a photo id in front of the camera please. Chop chop now. We don't have all day to save your job now do we?"
Dead silence was closely followed by a rather distinct mumbling of the boy who was wondering to himself what god he had offended in his past life to be stuck with a grouch like me. Well, at least he had my personality pegged perfectly, as I heard more rustling which was hopefully leading to him snapping out his wallet to follow my instructions.
Now obviously you are quite aware that the man could very well be turning around right this instant, bending over while dropping his pants to flash his potentially well rounded butt to the camera and I would really have no way of knowing. But you see since I am quite the stickler at having my blindness not be widely popularized now that my saviour has taken a sabbatical from protecting me from swindlers, this little charade was quite important. Hopefully, Mr. Kongpob, the non-hooker, would never really get the chance to discover the truth.
"Here. Happy now? Seriously man, I have never seen a more suspicious soul than you."
"Is that so? In that case I am quite at leisure right now. You can thank me to your heart's content for broadening your knowledge on human behaviors."
"Oh trust me I will be thanking you along with all your ancestors as soon as you sign up for the service next."
"Not just yet. We still need to see if your hands and feet are as competent as that mouth of yours."
"In that case, can we please get down to actual business please?"
"Alright, let's start. I need one large bag of sugar. The two pound one. Brand CTR. It must be..."
"Wait, wait, wait, aren't you going to even open the door?"
"Nope."
"Seriously?"
"Do I sound like someone who knows too many jokes."
"I guess not."
"So yes, sugar. As I was saying..."
"You are seriously going to talk through the intercom the entire time?"
"Obviously I don't want you distracted by my overwhelming beauty. This is all for your sake really. Now do you not want to get me some sugar or what? You keep interrupting me."
I swear what followed was the most pronounced sigh that could ever exist. I nearly felt his breath brushing against my skin even through the closed door, as he finally gave in to the terms of our exchange.
"Fine, fine. First thing is sugar. Next?"
"Oh no. Not just sugar. It has to be the two pound bag. It also needs to be from the brand CTR. The finely granulated one. I am not fond of chunks you see. Oh and also make sure there aren't any tiny rips or tears in the bag."
"You know what, Mr. Rojnapat, I am seriously rethinking the non-hooker part as a side job. Anyway, one non-ripped, finely granulated, two pound sugar bag from CTR. What's next?"
I must be honest, it was a rather unexpectedly enjoyable experience ordering someone else to go attend to my shopping needs. Especially since Sol, who normally did grocery shopping with me, was probably the most careless consumer ever.
Now I know I come off as an annoying stickler with a rather thick rod up my butt, but guess what a blind man living alone is in desperate need of? You might be tempted to say CTR brand sugar, but the correct answer obviously is consistency. There are only so many times a man can mistakenly brew red chilli powder instead of tea before he learns to recognize the feel of each container by the mere brush of his fingers.
And turns out, a loud mouth this Kongpob fellow might be, but at least he was good at following instructions. Cause that evening when I went through the bags of groceries he had left outside my door, I found everything exactly the way I had ordered. Except, one additional item I had definitely not asked for.
Taking the mysterious box in my hand, I felt around the texture to get any clues as to what it might be. Giving up trying to guess its content I finally ripped open its side to have my jaw instantly drop to the floor in surprise.
I think Kongpob-the non-hooker, just gifted me, the sworn virgin, a large box of condoms.
