I buy her suit

I bought her a Margarita, her new name, and left C me ' in Thailand. with the hottest :hl:,l(e caught a taxi to Koh Samui port. A large From Pat:alor,ted us to Koh Samui Island. Koh Samui simulated fwyboat “:11 pesort with palm-thatched beach bungalows. Feeling asouth PM crl lounged in the shade of an open-air Polynesian- right at home, (1 k ld Heineken and rolled a joint. Pot type restaurant, F3“ 3 C0 . was legal there. I scored a bag of weed from my waiter and ate a stack of ganja-laden pancakes. On the beach, twenty feet away, Margarita sunbathed topless in her skimpy white G-string bll<lr1l bottom. Afterwards, I joined her on the beach.  An Italian dude drooled while I massaged Margarita’s golden tan with coconut oil. A stunning olive skinned Italian chick lay by his side. “Did she come from Hawaii with you?” he asked, with the look of lust in his eyes.  “No, she’s Thai,” I said casually. “Why? Do you want to borrow her?” I asked. He grinned. The Italian chick glared.  From Koh Samui, we flew to Chiang Mai. Eight years had lapsed since my last run. I had to find a new connection. The Golden Triangle always had loads of China White. The hill tribes seemed to be the best source. Hill—treks into the opium fields became a tourist attraction. Under the guise of sightseeing, we Planned a hill-trek into the mountains above Chiang Mai. With Margarita as a translator, we caught a taxi to Doi Suthep temple. Impersonating a lost tourist, I strolled around and took pictures while Margarita negotiated our expedition into the jungles. 1“ the back of a canvas—cover  W ed 4—wheel drive Toyota truck, e . were d“V€I1 to the Karen vill  age. The densely forested route  OC