Chi on Toast, Part II
So now I have another Marcio on my hands here in Thailand. This one’s English is so indecipherable that I fear I may make more mistakes than simply confusing Chi with cheese! After the initial introduction, rather sensibly, I excused myself and allowed Mrs. Boss to continue the discussions alone. I looked up from my office from time to time and saw our expert shaking his head and chatting to Jin as if she had committed some cardinal sin by placing the building in this particular location. He would scribble away frantically on a pad and move onwards to another corner of the hotel lobby and shake his head some more. My impressions at this stage were that even sticking my head up an elephant’s posterior was not going ‘cut the mustard’ this time around!
I knew the time would come when Mrs. Boss would want to talk to me and tell me all of the ‘positive’ things we were going to do to improve our lot. Given that our hotel water supply had ceased to function properly earlier in the day and our maintenance man had managed to spend a few thousand Baht to only make the problem worse, I already felt positive. Well, positively disposed towards beheading the maintenance man that is.
Before I was given the Feng Shui low down I noticed all of the large paintings that adorned our hallways had been removed by staff members and deposited in the lobby. These were pictures of peacocks, wild horses, a pond of lilies and coy carp. How on earth could these delightful paintings be a problem? I was now getting agitated believing the Feng Shui consultant had been saying anything that came to mind and wondering why Mrs. Boss was prepared to take the word of a complete stranger whilst ignoring every sensible thing I’ve ever said!
The time I was dreading duly arrived. Mrs. Boss had waited until nine in the evening before commencing the overview, by which time the little fight that Thailand has not yet knocked out of me was dormant, ready for bed the same as its owner. Our consultant, Jap, had been thorough and Mrs. Boss started to produce scraps of paper with scribbles and drawings that looked nothing like anything I recognized. I endured this torture for an hour during which time I learnt that our hotel bar, my office, the reception area and our rather large (3 x 1 x 2 - meters) fish tank all had to be moved. In addition I am advised that the lighting needs to be changed and the tiled floor taken up and replaced with a different coloured tile. The bottom line is that we will likely be forced to close the hotel for at least two weeks in order for this work to be undertaken. This, of course, automatically doubles the price as we will lose the hotel and café income during that period. I enquired as to whether Jap had relatives in the building trade who had been recommended to Mrs. Boss for these works, but my wife knows me too well and saw through my sarcasm — she simply brushed it aside.
I would not mind so much if these Feng Shui consultants gave you some form of guarantee. “OK Kevin you spend one-hundred thousand Baht implementing our recommendations and if your income does not increase by at least ten percent a year you will be fully reimbursed.” Now that would be the sort of deal I could go for and one that would be fair all round don’t you think?
However, I just have to resign myself to accepting that Mrs. Boss will plough on with these plans regardless of anything I may say. I have, however, my own preferred formula for success which is simply to place pieces of brie, camembert and Danish blue strategically around the workplace until the smell is sufficiently overpowering to make a Feng Shui consultant vomit!
