Mah-S-A-A-A-A-A-a-a-a-a-g-e!

The humidity was high that night, and I was nearly the only one walking North along Thanon Phaya Thai as I trudged along back to the Asia Hotel, where a shower and sleep waited to welcome me.

I'd been walking for hours. I'd left the hotel when hunger crept over me around 18:00 and walked the half mile to the intersection of Phaya Thai and Rama 1, where I stopped to watch the afternoon commute traffic, now in full force. Walking around the elevated walkway I could see brake lights stretched out like garlands of ruby-red flowers in all four directions, with hundreds of cyclists buzzing between and around them, like bees.

Finally having my fill of that I made my way over Rama 1 and into MBK Mall, where I went to one of the food courts and had a small sandwich-type "wrap" for dinner from an Egyptian place I'd eaten at previously. I meandered through the area around the food court afterwards, trying to remember what souvenirs I'd already purchased for nieces and nephews back home. Realizing I didn't want to be carrying a bag with me the rest of the evening I abandoned that and made my way downstairs again to the elevated walkway level and exited the mall, past the somewhat weary-looking uniformed guard stationed at the entrance/exit.

After being in the air conditioned mall it seemed even warmer and more humid than it was an hour before, and if I hadn't reminded myself of the precious little time I had left in the Kingdom I may well have gone back to my room and piddled the evening away watching the National Georgraphic channel on TV. As it was, I sucked it up and made my way over to the National Stadium BTS station and took the short ride to Sala Daeng.

After a few hours weaving my way through the crowds at the sidewalk stalls along Silom Road, perusing the Patpong Night Market and stopping for ice cream on Soi Twilight to sit and watch the usual parade there I abandoned my thoughts of doing an interview and decided to call it a night. It was already nearly 21:30, and I had a fair distance of walking ahead of me if I wasn't going to take a taxi. Taxis are fine, but I find I don't see nearly as many interesting things from the back seat of one as I can on foot. I did take the BTS back to National Stadium, but decided to walk the half mile again back to the hotel.

Sweaty, sticky and exhausted I walked the bridge over khlong (canal) Mahah Nak and down along the sidewalk past shop after shop, their rolling metal front doors long since rolled down and locked. It was dark, but not so dark I couldn't see the odd rat scuttering about here and there in the semi-shadows. Down about a hundred yards, within 30 meters of my destination sat five women outside a massage shop, nearly the only thing open between the khlong and the hotel.

Despite my efforts to be invisible I suppose I wasn't all that difficult to miss - the Big Pink Guy who's almost the only pedestrian in sight. The light from the lonely storefront spilled out onto the street and one of the women was squinting in my direction - probably trying to see if I was in any way a potential customer. The instant she actually saw me she cupped her hand by her mouth and called out a greeting every tourist has heard a thousand times if they've heard it once: "Massage!"

The interesting thing about this siren call isn't that they say it, it's how they say it. The single word is often stretched out for two or three seconds, into what could almost be a complete sentence. That, and the way one person will often set the rest of their companions off; somewhat like a group of cats, sensing their provider is arriving to feed them. It's actually musical, in an odd way. Because of the distance I still was from the shop, their drawn-out howling was comical as it echoed off the buildings and overpasses around them, and I had to laugh.

"Mah-S-A-A-A-A-A-a-a-a-a-ge," she called out, bringing the others to attention and beginning the chorus of caterwauling that would continue until I got close enough to smile, shake my head and say "mai ow" (I don't want). Several of them continued to speak to me as I walked past, at least 20 feet away. "Welcome - massaaaage?" "Hello, mister. Masssaaaage?"

I continued the short distance to the hotel entrance, inside and up to my room, but as I stood at the window before retiring for the night I could still hear them in my head, calling out "Masssaaaaage".