room was filled with smoke and the strange glow of lamps reflecting off green felt.
I looked around the room. An Australian man, large, bald head, sleeveless
shirt, beer belly, Heineken. A skinny Korean hipster, diet coke, satin jacket,
tribal tattoos like spiderwebs on steady hands. Two African men, one dreadlocked, the other bald,
bottles of water and slim cigarillos. That, and ten Thai girls working the room
in what looked like dowdy prom dresses altered, hemlines rising like stakes on
This was my first trip to the pool halls of lower Sukhamvit. It’s a bizarre world, with pool sharks disguised as streetwalkers, and western men sizing up their female competition like Clint Eastwood in a dusty Spaghetti Western. I lost my game, stepped outside for air, and saw this fortune teller on the sidewalk. I took a quick photo, and went back in to lose again.