Amy's soap project and the clear agreements.
Last night, I celebrated a small anniversary with Amy from Udon Thani, the girl I met on a dating site. It was our fourth meeting, a milestone that held significance for someone like me, who had always feared commitment.
One thing that eased my apprehension was Amy's proficiency in English. She had studied "communication mass" at university, which initially took me by surprise. I caught myself scanning her appearance, relieved to find no obvious signs of eccentricity. It's funny how certain academic pursuits often conjure images of goat wool socks, just like political scientists, cultural anthropologists, or art historians.
In Thailand, the demand for graduates in these fields isn't particularly high. Consequently, Ann found herself working as an assistant in the acupuncture industry. She enjoyed her job and earned a decent income, though I wasn't aware of the exact figure yet. Additionally, she dabbled in soap production and sales, supplementing her earnings. Following each acupuncture session, Amy would gift patients a piece of soap made from her top secret recipe.
She requested their feedback during their next visit, with the intention of promoting the soap to potential customers. Each soap cost 140 Baht in raw materials and sold for 300 Baht. While the price seemed steep to me, I understood the importance of quality skincare. For those who couldn't do without the soap after their treatment, Amy offered to ship it to them upon request. It was still an early stage project, but I found her enthusiasm encouraging as she diligently addressed five parcel envelopes.
Indeed, every good thing has its price. Amy was a caring individual who insisted on meticulous arrangements. For instance, I usually had three white sweatbands lying around, scattered and misplaced. But when Amy was present, one would be soaking in soapy water, another drying, and one ready for use. It was remarkable.
Whenever the Familymart ran out of Marlboro hard boxes and provided soft packs instead, Amy would transfer all the cigarettes from the full soft pack to the empty hard box with astonishing precision, accommodating all 19 without causing damage. I, on the other hand, could never manage to do it without leaving at least one cigarette behind.
I bid her farewell half an hour ago. I needed to focus on finishing my story, and having someone around me all day wasn't my style anyway. Thankfully, Amy understood this. She shared her contact details and laid out the plan for our next meeting.
"If you want me to accompany you, just message me, okay? My first patient is scheduled for 11 AM tomorrow. You can call me every day until you return home, if you'd like.I couldn't help but feel skeptical. A clear agreements like this were made, it often seemed impossible for them to be upheld. But perhaps Amy would prove me wrong.
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