I’ve come to know Thai culture pretty well, but today was my first encounter with the pure belief that I might be in the process of getting knocked out.
When she pressed the cold menthol smelling cloth over my face my first instinct was to rip it off and leap up. I may have even moved an inch todo so. But I get into mental games of my own very quick sometimes and so I stayed still and decided that at the slightest feeling of faint or dizzy, I would bolt. I even thought of what positions my legs were in and whether or not I should move them to make for a faster leap. I had whoations of panic. I was feeling light headed, wasn’t I? She had looked at me oddly upon entry into the massage room, hadn’t she? She would have stolen my phone by now, wouldn’t she have? These questions genuinely laced themselves into my brain current. I made the very conscious effort to control my breathing and after each intake, I did a quick assessment.
I didn’t wake up in the back of a covered pick up truck. I didn’t wake bound in ropes or in a pit of snakes. I didn’t even wake
because I didn’t even sleep.
I didn’t know what chloroform smelled like, but I do now because I looked it up thinking that if ever such an event happened again, and it WAS the real thing, I would know.