“Hello, Hia,[44] one package of chicken rice, please.”
I placed my order.
“With skin? Which part?” He asked.
“Um…” I pondered. The doctor was tiny and seemed to take his health seriously. “Chicken breast, please. No skin.”
“No more breasts today.” He said with a straight face.
“Then, thigh meat is okay, but can you remove the skin from it?” I repeated.
“Just remove it yerself. Why y’er fussy today, Mork? Ya usually just eat whatever.”
Bahhh...freaking Hia. This isn’t for myself, you know!
In that second, the idea about chicken hearts flashed into my mind.
“Oh, wait, Hia. You got chicken hearts?”
“Yah, y’er eatin’ that?”
“I want the rice, without chicken, but can you put lots of hearts in it?”
“Ya can eat that? Mork, yer such a weirdo.” Verbally, he complained, but his hands reached to open the rice pot and pack the rice inside a bowl before knocking the bowl-shaped rice onto a sheet of waxed paper. He took cooked chicken hearts from the cabinet and prepared to start slicing. “How many?”
“Guess I’ll take all you got, Hia.” I replied.
“Weird. So weird.” He shook his head while putting sliced pieces of heart on top of the rice.
“Here, done. I guess that’s fifty baht for yer Hainanese rice with chicken hearts. And what y’er grinning about? Mork, yer such a weirdo.”
He commented while handing me the rice in a bag.
“Grinning? What? Am I grinning?”
“Y’er grinning from ear to ear. Y’er pranking someone with this? That’s a creepy smile.”
“No way, Hia! It’s for a meal.” I paid him and drove my motorcycle straight to the hospital.
Was I freaking grinning?
I was grinning when I bought Hainanese chicken rice.
Grinning while buying Hainanese chicken rice for the doctor dude.
I grinned without realizing it while I was thinking about that damn doc?
At first, I wasn’t thinking about it. But soon, I got worried about him and started thinking of him automatically. Now I bought this freaking pack of Hainanese chicken rice with lots of hearts and was going to deliver it to him. The question from my uncle in the morning, which had been lingering in my thoughts all day, eventually came back to make me think again.
Am I into him? …
And if I like Doctor Tawan, what am I?
Am I a gay guy? Or am I still a normal guy?
The questions and my doubts are now hanging over my head. Even after washing my body, and then my hair by shampooing and scrubbing vigorously, they still won’t go away. I put on my shorts and quickly dry my hair a little with a towel while returning to my bedroom. And when I am alone in a quiet room, the voice of doubts roars even louder.
I pick up my phone and search for women’s nude pictures… Hmm, I still like them as before. This should mean I am still a normal guy, right? But then, what about that strange feeling that made me worry about doc and the unusual grin on my face when I thought about him? Does this count as liking him? I try to remember the past feelings. I didn’t feel anything during the first few times we met. But after getting more acquainted…
Alright, I must admit, I’ve been waiting for him to appear and ride with me in the evening. True, the ride is just for a short one. And though I know he’s going back home to where he stays with his boyfriend, the moment that lasts just a few minutes when he rides in my backseat, having his arm around my shoulder, sharing a short conversation, and telling each other to have sweet dreams, has been feeling good.
Back to square one. Same old question.
“Am I now into him?”
P'Fueang told me sex is a fluid matter. Does this mean my fluidity has reached the point where I become gay? Let me tell you, I’m not freaking scared. I’m okay either way. I don’t have anything against gays. Of course, my two uncles are spouses. And I’ve seen them being in love with each other since I was a kid. So, disgust is off the table.
It is such a hassle if I can’t give myself an answer.
And it is freaking anxiety-inducing to be filled with doubts like this.
I launch Google on my cellphone. Miss Ai once told me: when in doubt, ask Google. It can answer anything. And when it’s too hard to read, she’ll be willing to teach me if I ask.
My finger hovers over the screen. What am I going to ask? “Am I gay?” Like that? Oh shoot, poor Mork, why the heck do you have to ask yourself something like this? And since I can’t think of any other question that makes more sense, I typed “Am I gay?” in the keyword field and tap the search button.
Google spins slowly on my screen for a short time before showing a link to an article from a Facebook fan page. I bring the phone closer to my face (please understand, the text is small and my bedroom’s lighting isn’t very good.)
The article is titled “Am I gay?” and the page name is #DoYouWannaHearMyStory and the admin’s name is Mek.[45]
Ha… We have similar names and his article title is an exact match to my question. I scoot over to turn up the light from my reading lamp before reading it…
Am I gay?
Hello, brothers, if you’re in doubt and asking yourself this,
it means now you like somebody and he is a guy, right?
Shit...that’s bull’s-eye! Yah, right, bro.
Automatically, I reply to him inside my head while scrolling down to read more.
Have you eaten pork leg stew on top of rice?
And do you like pork leg stew on top of rice?
Yah...I like it.
Have you eaten crispy pork belly on top of rice?
And do you like crispy pork belly on top of rice?
Yah...I like that too.
Wait, do these food have anything to do with being gay?
Right now, you might be wondering what kind of connection there is between the food I mentioned and the article’s title “Am I gay?” Wondering why I beat around the bush, asking you about pork leg stew and crispy pork belly, and if I will proceed to asking about shrimp wontons and roast red pork noodles, right?
Yah, bro. If you know your readers are wondering, just get to the damn point already!
I want to ask you this. When you’re about to eat pork leg stew on top of rice, do you freaking tell yourself before eating ‘Hey I am a person who likes pork leg stew, I am a fan of pork leg stew’?
And when your favorite vendor of pork leg stew is open, but you’re not eating it and instead choose to walk past it to eat crispy pork belly on top of rice at the next vendor, have you ever asked yourself ‘Eh...what’s wrong with me? Why am I not eating my favorite pork leg stew? Why am I freaking eating crispy pork belly instead?’
Never. Unwittingly, I shake my head and answer in my head.
Why the heck am I shaking my head in reply to an article on my cellphone? Bah, just keep reading, Mork.
I don’t have an answer for you guys on whether or not you’re gay.
Sorry, you have to live with your doubts.
What the heck… Damn admin, you tricked me into reading for a long time.
Come on, don’t get mad at me yet. Take it easy! Keep reading.
It’s similar to when you like a fair-skinned, Chinese-looking girl, and set your goal on finding a girlfriend of that type. But one day you meet a tan-skinned southern girl with dark lashed eyes and happen to fall in love.
In this case, why aren’t you questioning yourself ‘what the hell is wrong with me?’ I don’t think it’s any different than when you wake up one morning and suddenly discover that you like someone who’s also a guy.
I just want to tell you. If you doubt yourself, of what you are, you will keep doubting yourself again and again. Yesterday you liked girls, you didn’t doubt. Today you started to like a guy, and now you doubt yourself. Then, what if tomorrow you get a hard on when looking at a woman’s nude picture, you will kee
p doubting forever.
Why don’t you just stop doubting?
And let yourself savor the sensation that’s happened.
I search for the word ‘savor’ in the dictionary and it says ‘to give oneself to the enjoyment of’ … Oh, okay, the admin meant to say just enjoy the feeling of liking or loving someone that happens to me, don’t question it.
Don’t label your love with a name.
Don’t limit your relationship with rules.
It will become a cage around your own feelings. An invisible cage.
If you like someone, don’t ask yourself why.
Don’t ask what you are and why you like the person.
It. Is. A. Damn. Waste. Of. Time.
Better spend that time finding out how to make the person like you back.
How to make the person’s eyes look at you.
Stop doubting about the stupid non-sense.
It’s 2018, everyone puts their gender issue away in a box.
If you like someone, just admit that you do.
Just make sure to find out for yourself if you really like the person.
Ah, hell… This page’s admin, P'Mek, is right. Why waste the time doubting? I shut off my phone screen and put it on the bed next to me before throwing myself down on the pillow.
Then, there’s only one question for me… Do I like the doctor? Loong said I acted like him when he started liking Ar. He also concluded that when we realize we fall in love with someone, it’s after we’ve already fallen.
But I still want to know.
Reflexly, I grab my phone and search Google again with “How do I know I like someone?” then hit the search button. This time, Google took shorter time to load.
The first link that Google gives to me is an article titled “How do I know I like someone?” which is amazingly an exact match. I skim lower...it’s from the same damn page, #DoYouWannaHearMyStory.
Um… I’m starting to wonder if this freaking admin dude named Mek actually wrote about everything on earth and if he bribed Google to show his articles at the top of search results every freaking time. I tap on it to read.
Do you often think about them?
Do you often smile when you think about them?
And when you’re doing something for them,
does it happen automatically?
Like, you didn’t plan it.
Before you know it, you already gave them something.
Before you know it, you already sent a lunchbox to them.
Before you know it, you already told them sweet dreams, something like that.
Uh… I’m starting to feel spooked by this admin dude.
Why the heck does his article sound exactly like my story? So creepy.
I’ve been like that, too! With Doctor Aim, my boyfriend.
Eh… P'Mek has a doctor boyfriend, too.
When we were on the same trip to Spain, at the start of the trip I was still trash-talking him. But before I knew it, I was smiling when I thought of him. Sometimes he just suddenly appeared in my mind. When I did something, I thought of him first. I gave him a cap. I shielded him from the sun with my jacket. I paid attention to his face, hair, and his eyes. I noticed he had three types of smiles; smiling just to be polite, smiling because he’s annoyed, and smiling from his heart.
I think about myself…
Think of the first day when I looked disdainfully at the doctor who never rode on a motorcycle.
Think of my mild annoyance when I had to teach him to hold on and balance himself on the seat.
And think that I slowly shifted to automatically smile whenever I see him.
The feelings that gradually become aromatic when he’s near.
The warmth I sense from his kindness, when he does things for other people and when he smiles.
I continue reading the article.
If you’ve read what I wrote above.
And if you think it sounds familiar to what’s happening in your life.
And if you're wondering if you like the person.
I can tell you for sure, you like them.
Stop asking if you like the person or not.
And start asking yourself ‘What am I waiting for?’
This article might be short.
But I think if love has really sprouted in your heart.
No matter how short, my writing will ring true to your heart, make you understand and give you the answer.
I shut off my phone...and set it beside me.
“Oh shoot... It seems I freaking fell in love with the doc.”
Chapter 11: Tawan
Uh-huh… That’s creative.
Very “hearty” Hainanese chicken rice.
I can feel the smile on my face, which refuses to go away. I walk over to get a spoon and a fork, preparing to eat, but Nadia bursts through the door of the doctors' break room before I can get the first bite.
“Oh, hi, Nadia.” I greet him.
“Drained. So drained. Super jar-breaking-fish-flying drained.”
Without any prompt, Nadia reports his duty situation to me. I look at the time, it is only past 7 p.m., not even 8 p.m. yet. Only about three hours into the duty, and Nadia is saying he’s drained already. I can’t imagine how he will look tomorrow morning after getting through the night.
“Whenever it’s a traded duty slot, it has to be this draining, always!”
He finishes his complaint, before throwing himself down onto the sofa, and gives a deep sigh.
This morning, when he found out I was to be on duty, he hurriedly asked for a trade just to get the same duty hours as mine. Although we’re working in different departments and might be too busy to see each other, it warms my heart to know my best friend is also staying at the hospital on the same duty slot.
With that in mind, we always trade the duty with coworkers to try to coordinate our time. We can soothe and encourage one another when work gets exhausting. Plus, it means we can have the same days off.
“Hey, Tawan, whatcha eating?”
Once Nadia sees I’m about to eat, he darts to the table. When it comes to food, Nadia’s speed becomes almost twice as fast, regardless of how terribly drained he is.
“Huh? Hainanese chicken rice, is it? What’s that?”
Besides verbally asking, he snatches my fork and pokes the chicken hearts on my rice.
“Chicken hearts.” I reply.
Nadia makes a freakish face at me. “Hainanese chicken rice with chicken hearts? That’s strange. Never tried it. Is that delicious?” He sets the fork down before leaving the table.
I pick up the fork again and start eating the “hearty” Hainanese chicken rice. I chew and swallow.
Mhmmmm, it tastes okay.
“Not bad. Better than nothing to eat.” I take another spoonful into my mouth. “And the cafeteria is closed already. This was from Mork. He bought it from around his house and left it for me downstairs.”
Nadia, who’s walking away from me, stops short as soon as he hears Mork’s name.
“From Mr. Mork? Wowwww, fancy! Let me have a bite.”
He dashes back towards my plate but I grab and move it out of his reach just in time.
“No way, this is mine and I’m not sharing, bitch!”
“Dawww, Tawan! Just one bite. I want a heart from Mork too.”
“Nope! Shoo! There’s not much and I don’t even know if it’s going to be filling enough for me. Go find your own food.”
Nadia narrows his eyes and stares at me scrutinizingly.
“Are you being protective over your food or over Mr. Mork? Admit it.”
His look and his question make me jump, it feels like being interrogated with a knife’s blade on my neck.
“You nuts? It’s the food. Why would I be protective over Mork? He’s my friend. Why would I?”
“Twenty-one syllables.” Nadia counts my reply’s length. His scrutinizing glare intensifies even more. On top of that, he takes a step closer towards me, his eyes pricking
my skin so hard it almost hurts.
“You denied it in twenty-one syllables and said ‘why would I’ twice.” He takes a deep breath and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “That’s so suspicious. Just be honest and tell me, you’re feeling good around him, right? Tawan.”
I look around for help, but there’s nothing and no one. I can only think about shaking my head, so I shake my head desperately, forgetting to chew the food in my mouth.
“Are you sure you’re not protective over him?” Nadia repeats.
I shake my head again and accidentally swallow without chewing first.
GULP!
“Ack! Hack kack kack!”
So, it happens. I cough up my food and a piece of chicken heart flies out and hits a wall. Nadia, having swiftly dodged it, laughs at me.
“Why did you have to be so frightened, Tawan? I was just teasing you. Didn’t know it would frighten you to the point of choking.”
My Ride, I Love You Page 16