Bangkok, Thailand, December Pang the casting agent comes to the house we’re staying at, looking for extras to star in a Thai soapie. Apparently they need a couple of farangs to dress up and pretend to be diplomats in an embassy cocktail party scene. At a couple of hundred baht just for showing up, there is no shortage of hands.
Pang forgets that every night is party night in the house. At 4am, there are just four of us sitting quietly on the bus. Me, an Australian, a Lanky Canadian and the German nutter with a duffel full of East German army helmets he’s been trying to flog around Bangkok.
“Where the others?” he says.
“I guess they’re not coming,” says the Australian.
So Pang does what any resourceful casting agent would do. Read More…