I’m often attracted to old guys with too much time on their hands when I’m out walking in Bangkok (uh, not in that way). They see me as a contemporary, I call them old men because I still picture myself as a twenty-something young stud on the prowl. Generation gap or not, I too have far too much time on my hands and often end up deep in conversation with gaggles of old farts even though neither of us speaks the other’s language. So it was with this trio of gents who’d claimed some prime real estate at the Mahathat amulet market one Sunday.

They had amulets of sale, but making a sale was just an excuse for the gathering. Educating a farang was a happy diversion. Within minutes of our greeting, jeweler’s loupe to eye, I was given detailed instructions on the finer points of Thai amulets. Which I’d love to share with you but since that knowledge was provided in Thai beyond my capabilities all I could pass on is how to nod encouragingly as though you understand what someone is babbling about. Which is a skill you probably already learned if you’ve spent time with a bar boy whose English skills are limited.

Despite chatting with them for half an hour, I still can’t tell the difference between an amulet that sells for 5 baht and one that sells for a few thousand. But it was an enjoyable encounter nonetheless, which for some reason became a fortuitous one in their collective mind. It took me a few minutes to realize the subject under discussion had changed, and a few minutes more to figure out my participation was required. When I did, it turned out I needed to supply them with a few numbers, lucky numbers for some unfathomable reason ‘cuz the youngster of the group promptly scurried off to the closest lottery vendor, bought a ticket with my numbers on it and came scampering back to proudly show off what he was sure would be their path to riches. I think they’d have done better by trying to convince me to buy one of their pricier amulets.

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