STAN WAS lying in bed like a dead cockroach. His left leg was raised and his right arm was up while a nurse wearing a tight white uniform and a tantalizing perfume checked his blood pressure.
“How are you feeling?” she asked as she bent over, showing a bright orange bra stretched over a couple of cupcakes.
“A little better now, thanks.”
She finished her routine, smiled then left. Stan thought of his father. He was embarrassed at what had happened on his night out, but nobody needed to know the truth about that. He had to think of a less incriminating story.
He flicked through the channels on the small television, but the only English options were BBC World News or MTV, neither of which grabbed his interest. He was about to check his email, when a short Thai man wearing tight trousers strolled in.
“I think you’ve got the wrong room.”
‘Tight Trousers’ stepped out, checked the number on the door and returned, “You Mr Stan?”
“Is that for me?” Stan asked, catching sight of a bulging plastic bag.
“Have fruit,” the Thai replied, handing it over.
“From my father?”
He nodded as he watched Stan pull out an apple and take a bite. “…Where is he?”
“He at hotel.”
“Why doesn’t he come?”
“I not know.”
Stan removed a magenta-coloured fruit. “What?”
“…That Thai fruit.”
Stan held it under his nose. “And you are?”
“I am Pang.”
“Pang... Sounds more like a noise effect from the old Batman TV show. How did you get that name?”
“My father give me.”
“Fair enough. Are you from the hotel, Pang?”
“No, I am taxi driver. I work for Mr Nigel.”
Stan lowered his voice.
“I see, but ‘Are you talking to me?’ ”
Pang didn’t know the movie quote and stood there with a blank expression.
“Can you bring me a DVD player so I can watch some movies? I will pay you for your trouble.”
“You want me to buy you DVD?”
“Yes. You need money?”
“Will look first, check price, you can pay later.”
“Can you buy some new movies in English? And tell my dad to get his arse over here.”