Fool

Nek is officially an idiot. Inspecting the french doors I want, he'd equipped himself with nothing but his photographic memory, which as some wit remarked is a strictly amateur-photographic memory, shaky, out of focus, faces cut off, and decided that on the whole the job was the same as making these ghastly aluminium doorframes I have on the ground floor and which he'd previously had occasion to fashion. Today was the big day, so he phoned while I was in Boonthavorn and informed me that this meant the central two panels, which will open inwards, would therefore have to be smaller.

I flew over like a demon and demanded they all pile into the car and look at the About Cafe doors this instant. Luckily he hadn't quite trusted himself with the job and Chang Poon was in charge of it, so he was sent to accompany me instead. In the taxi he got car sick and kept asking 'Are we there yet?' How they got him from Lopburi to Bangkok is a mystery; perhaps it's not so bad sitting in the cab of a pickup truck. At any rate, thank God for Chang Poon: he looked at the doors, and understood, and gave the right answers. He then went with me to pick up the tiles for the counter (a snip at 755 baht including borders) from Talad Noi, so it wasn't a total waste of time. Of course I had to send him back to the house in an open vehicle, and the tuk-tuk driver wanted 200 baht, which I'll charge to Nek.

Measure twice, cut once. Christ.