I had a very weird dream. I am driving a large car, a Mercedes I think, in Bangkok. My parents are in the car as is Mikey. It's a long journey somewhere in Bangkok, but we have pulled out from what looks like the former Erawan Arcade (in the 1960s) and have moved towards a T-junction. (There is no T-junction there in real life). I have been parked on the left side of a very broad one way street with many lanes and I actually need to turn right, but there are are too many lanes to cross over and as I try to sneak across, a policeman pulls the car over even though I have already been forced to turn left instead of right. I park slightly out of the way. The police are in a sort of booth right in the middle of the intersection.
I rehearse what I am going to say - that I was trying to go right, there were far too many lanes ... eventually that I'm jjust going to bribe him 100 baht ... but he just doesn't come. A large limousine pulls up to my left, obscuring the view and enabling me to slip away. My parents are no longer in the car and I say to Mikey, let's stop and eat somewhere ... maybe in Chinatown. Then I reflect on how hard it is to park there. I wonder why I'm even driving in Thailand at all because I haven't done so in a decade.
We pull into a strange kind of place, like a sort of massage parlor, and they tell me and Mikey to take a look at some paintings of men working there. One of them seems to be named Anouk. This painting looks better than the others, but presently we see the real Anouk, embracing a column. He doesn't look anything like the picture. He is wearing a white sort of cheesecloth shirt unbuttoned at the top and has very dark skin and is somewhat unshaven, with a toothy kind of smile. He says to me, "Shall we get started?" in a strong Filipino accent, and indicates an inner room, and leaps into my arms with his arms around my neck in a weird parody of a bride about to be carried across the threshold. I realize this is some kind of male brothel run completely by Filipinos. I am about to say "Mikey, let's go," when he says ... "look over there ... it's Phee Mhong."
I have no clue who this is an assume it someone Mikey used to know a long time ago. When I look where he is pointing, the building has a new corridor lined with dilapidated beds and it is sort of like a hospital. The corridor is angling off to the left, at 45° from the rest of the place. There are glass doors, an exit from the building, and the corridor to the left. People are lying in the beds and they might be receving massages or medical attention, I cannot tell. There is a trio of sad looking, paunchy men at the entrance to this new corridor. They are in some kind of tribal dress and the one Mikey has indicated is an old man with white hair and a paunch and a poncho as well as some kind of loose fabric pajama bottoms. It is a depressing vista and I decide we must go, but I don;t know we can leave without engaging these people in a conversation....