St. Benedict College, Bangkok

There was a palpable tension between the two, dirty looks exchanged as they waited, but they mostly ignored each other, with Alfredo paying his attention to, chatting with, touching the arms of the 23-year-old Indian fresh meat teacher, with whom Alfredo had taken a shine.

The time arrived to scan out. 5pm. Watching it from about 5 people away (I'd also get there early, to bypass the line), it was like a Wild West showdown.

(Cue the John Wayne music- duh-nuh-nuh-wah-weeh-waaaahhhh!)

The Brit drew first. Reached over, literally, over wee Alfredo, which wasn't difficult, as the Brit was tall and lanky, around 6'3 or so and Alfredo stood at about 5'0.

Alfredo's fangs came out. Alfredo retaliated by lunging and pushing the Brit, upwards, paddy-caking into the Brit's chest, vampire Alfredo shoving the 64 y/o man, hard.

The Brit was not deterred or hurt, falling back slightly, but quickly regaining his balance, and the Brit stepped towards, towered over Alfredo, leaned down, got right in his face and told him sternly: "Do that again, little man!"

Sensing that either Alfredo might make a move, bite into or otherwise attack the Brit's testicular region, or that the Brit might rip Alfredo's head off (the more probable outcome, this guy was a former soldier, after all! And still in good shape, older or not).

Neither possible scenario I wished to witness, so I stepped up, played the peacemaker, got between them, broke up the altercation, told them both to calm down.

Having been in Korea, and very accustomed to the Asian thing of deeply respecting my elders, I told Alfredo to just let the Brit go first. That the Brit was always first, he's our elder; we should let him go.

(I didn't appreciate watching anyone, even an unintimidating little person, physically attack a senior citizen, I must say, and I'd have reacted the same way, no matter who was involved.)

Alfredo backed down, skulked off, went back further into the line, saying something about: "such attitude."

As he walked away, I noticed the Filipino teachers giving me the stink eye.

So, to further calm down the situation, I smiled, said to everyone that we should all "relax and take it easy," that "It's been a long week; let's enjoy the weekend."

I let a few Filipinos standing behind me in line go ahead of me, smiled at everyone. I felt proud of myself for stepping up, being magnanimous.

After such an incident, I thought that the following Monday morning, there'd be disciplinary hearings. I might get invited to testify.

But there was nothing. They simply took a short, written statement from Alfredo, in which he blamed the Brit entirely and stated the Brit pushed him, that he never touched the Brit.

For the Brit, the admins, three of the admins, the Grinch, the dean, and the Corpse, called him into a meeting, blamed him for the incident, and gave him a written warning, telling him to sign it, which he refused to do and stormed out of the meeting.

Afterwards, the Grinch taped a laminated sign next to the fingerprint scanner, saying how no one was allowed to line up before 5pm or leave bags by the fingerprint scanner. Anyone breaking this rule WILL BE FINED.

Later that morning, after finishing my first class, I stepped into the hallway, outside my classroom, and a Filipina teacher I didn't know was walking towards me.

She wasn't a bad looking lady, maybe early 30s, had a killer body, long mane of jet-black hair and a cute face. Her eyeglasses lent her a sort of sexy librarian thing.

I attempted to make eye contact, say hello, but when her gaze met mine, she grimaced and swiveled her head in the opposite direction.

Unlike many Filipinas, I guessed she wasn't into middle-aged white guys, at least not me, and that was okay. I respect that.

But I couldn't handle what she did next. I moved to the side, to let her pass me, and she reached her arm out, like a stiff arm, American football motion, a Heisman pose, and she shoved me, knocking me so hard I lost my balance for a second.

Then she screamed at me to: "Go home!"

I couldn't believe what had just happened. I'd been shoved and berated. In the hallway. By another teacher. A woman, nonetheless.

My tongue touched my hard palate. I was frozen in shock, for a minute, nothing of the sort had happened to me since I was a freshman in high school.

This, though, I couldn't let slide. Someone who'd treat a coworker, abuse a fellow teacher, like that, had to be held accountable.

If I knew who she was, I'd report her to HR, straightaway.

But I didn't. I'd never seen her. So, I followed her to her classroom, where her class was beginning, and I walked in, pointed my smartphone and snapped a picture of her, asked her name, and, as I was leaving, told her never to touch me again, and that I'd be reporting her to HR.

She followed me out into the hallway, and again screamed at me to "Go home!"

I went downstairs and reported the incident to an unsympathetic HR acolyte.

I figured I'd hear something by the end of the business day. I heard nothing.

Talking to Mumbles about it in the van ride home, he said it was probably payback for breaking up the fight between Alfredo and the Brit.

He'd heard through the grapevine that there'd been chatter all the "flippers" hated me now. I'd, inadvertently, become Public Enemy Number One at the school.

(Which was weird. I'd never been in that situation before. In my corporate job, my previous school, even my part-time jobs in high school, college, I'd always gotten along with most everyone, had very few problems.)

((Even scarier, I came to discover that this beautiful bully was connected to the school's president; they were tight. Some sort of family friend relation.))

(((The beautiful bully was basically royalty at the school. Could do whatever she wanted. She'd refused to work overtime when the school was understaffed and had shouted down the previous chair of her department. She'd taken extra-long, 3-month vacations. Outside of her small, but highly powerful circle, she was widely reviled. She, however, was untouchable, and I had totally "bumped" into the wrong person.)))

Thinking there might be further reprisals, and deciding, at this point, the place was too disorderly, unprofessional, and downright dangerous, I knew that I'd need to leave.

(I worried the Filipinos might jump me after school, gangs of them with lead pipes, beating me, kicking me, or one might try to stab me with a protractor, or maybe my parents' bimonthly cleaners, who were Filipinos, might know the St. Benedict Filipinos, that somehow it could all be connected, and they might take my parents hostage; like maybe I'd receive a panicked phone call from my mother at 3am, my 73 y/o mother, duct-taped to a chair...)

Having seen what I had of the school's policies, its classrooms, staff, and how tough it was trying to teach so many students who didn't speak English or want to speak English, and especially after witnessing a senior citizen be physically assaulted, and being physically, verbally assaulted myself, I knew I'd need to leave, probably at the end of the semester, and I decided to take the next two days off, called in sick, and notified the students the next two days' classes would be redone at a later date.

The next two days were bliss. I spent the time relaxing, searching for, applying for new jobs. None of them in Thailand.

(All I was finding in Thailand were training center, dancing monkey jobs, and Lord of the Flies high school jobs. Even the upper crust, elite private schools in Bangkok didn't sound appealing. The pay wasn't much better, and I'd heard from a few different expats how awful, spoiled the lot of the students were at those schools, the classes like zoos. That you'd need to don a full 3-piece suit, blazer and everything, and refer to the students as "Master" - "Master Puchai" "Master William")

When I returned to the school, the stink eye had increased 1000%. Weirdly, people I didn't know either knew my name, or gave me extra dirty looks.

Though there was an attractive secretary, a tall, dark skinned Thai, with an outstanding hourglass figure and gorgeous face, who'd not paid any attention to me before, and who was now all smiley with me and flirty.

Maybe she was into "bad boys" and my newfound notoriety had piqued her interest.

Public Enemy Number One, a middle-aged honky, ignominious, wearing khakis, loafers, eyeglasses and a fanny pack.

(I asked the caramel lovely out, and she said "yes." My dalliance with her one of the few fun things I'd found there. At least for a short time... But that's another story.)

I'd requested, by email, to have a meeting with HR, the beautiful bully. I'd also requested there to be security cameras placed around the school, and a security guard or two present, patrolling the hallways, keeping the peace, and especially for security to be present during the fingerprint scanning in the afternoon.

But no security guards appeared, anywhere; no cameras were installed.

And when I was called into a meeting with HR, that afternoon, the day of my return, I'd planned, envisioned myself as a plenipotentiary...

ADMINISTRATION: Coming to the meeting, I thought the beautiful bully and maybe one HR acolyte would be there.

But instead the beautiful bully was nowhere to be seen.

There were only 3 admins, the dean of my dept (who I'd never met), the Grinch, and a portly, 60ish Thai man (I'd never seen before) who was one of the school's high-ranking vice presidents of something or other.

They all looked extremely pissed off.

Seeing that the beautiful bully wasn't there, I initially, politely, refused to take part in the meeting. But the dean told me the beautiful bully (not the dean's exact words) had provided a written statement and assured me that all they wanted was for me to give my side of the story.

Figuring that I wouldn't be sticking around much longer anyway, I nodded and sat down.

I thought they'd ask a few questions, hear me out. But that's not what happened.

Instead, the three of them launched into a fusillade of criticism, condemnation, blaming me for the entire incident.

The dean, a chunky woman, said it was impossible for a slim woman to attack a grown man. That she couldn't believe it.

(Although she said someone of her size could- her exact words)

The Grinch, shaking with anger, screamed at me, calling me rude, immature.

The vice president of something wagged his finger in my face, called me names, said I knew nothing about Thai culture. That I shouldn't teach in Thailand.

All this before I had a chance to tell my side of the story.

I calmly listened, didn't yell back, or sink to their mudslinging level.

However, in retrospect, I did something that probably worsened the situation. I laughed at them. I smiled as they berated me.

It was actually a very Thai thing to do.

Thais, generally, pride themselves on maintaining their cool, not freaking out, letting things roll off their backs.

"Jai Yen," the ability to keep one's cool, is a matter of national pride. That patience, chill demeanor is part of what makes Thailand such a great vacation spot and what makes so many Thais genuinely cool people.

But there wasn't much jai yen in that room, except for me, the only foreigner in there.

After they'd unloaded on me, I decided someone had to be the adult...

I suggested to them, calmly, courteously, that this wasn't productive, that we should relax, take a deep breath.

That took them off guard. They really did seem to be expecting a freak out, on my part, and they weren't getting it (which I think made them even angrier).

Then I slowly explained my side of the story, what happened. Again, the dean said she didn't believe me. The Grinch then said that I had done the same thing to her, had shoved her in the hallway, which wasn't true.

I told her, nicely, that didn't happen, I have no recollection of that. I don't usually, ever, to be honest, shove old ladies in hallways.

But she insisted it happened. Then she exclaimed that I was calling her a liar, slandering her, and that she was recording the whole conversation on her phone, which she waved in my face.

Then the vice president of something started to say that I'd pushed the Grinch, and that me taking a photo of the beautiful bully, in her classroom, without permission, was akin to slapping her across the face, that taking someone's picture in Thailand, without their express consent, was illegal.

He said how the police might have to get involved. Maybe the school would need to contact immigration too.

I saw where this was going.

Possibly me landing in jail.

Me being assaulted, reporting it, taking pictures, filing complaints, maybe posting things online, exposing the gang of thug teachers infesting the place, none of that was going to be positive publicity for this for-profit school.

They were going to pin the whole thing on me. Send me to a Thai prison over it, if they had to.

What the hell had this come to? All I came there to do was teach, help the students, have fun, enjoy Thailand. The Land of Smiles.

Now I was being harangued and faced with maybe going to jail. Over me and a senior citizen getting physically assaulted by roughneck, (likely) fake degree holding, sham teachers.

I'd found myself in a situation that illustrates one of the biggest drawbacks of being in a developing country.

As a foreigner, especially one from a first world country, you can be a target of scams. If you work in a developing country for an employer, one that is corrupt or malicious, things can get ugly. Quick.

They, your employer, the school, holds all the cards. You, as a foreigner, are alone, vulnerable in any dispute. You have, pretty much, no rights. There isn't rule of law; very few, if any, laws will go in your favor.

(File a lawsuit in a country where you aren't fluent in the language- yeah right. And the guy at immigration is, probably, friends, or related to the school's admins... The school, probably, gives "tea money" to the cops... Good luck dialing 911... Call the US Embassy- they don't give a fuck, either.)

While researching working, living in Thailand, one thing I'd seen, again and again, was to never make Thais mad. Never make them "lose face." How they'd go from 0 to 60, in seconds flat. Even get violent.

(Mumbles spoke once of seeing a drunken foreigner, from Texas, tell a gaggle of loud Thais at a karaoke bar to "fuck off." They'd responded by circling him and stabbing him to death with kitchen knives.)

Seeing that my situation was going downhill, fast, feeling like a gazelle that'd wandered, inadvertently, into a lion's den, I decided to de-escalate.

I admitted I was wrong for taking her photo. I said the whole thing was a misunderstanding. I'm sorry for anyone I offended. I just wanted to get back to work, teach my classes, and put the whole thing behind me.

I also let them know, in the politest way possible, that there's a lot of tension at the school, much of it felt racial, and that perhaps we could have a few staff get-togethers, parties, something to bring people together.

(I'd been dismayed at the school's dearth of social events. I posited that might be a real reason for the separation, tension among the staff. Like if we got together, did more social things together, we'd get to know each other, the office could be a friendlier place.)

My suggestion fell on deaf ears.

The vice president of something said how I probably believed that "everything is because of racism," and that he, while working as a waiter in a hotel in NYC, the dean and Grinch had all experienced serious racism in America.

(And it was then I understood, possibly, why some Asians, like the Grinch, who return from Western countries after having bad experiences, are so vindictive and maybe purposely attain positions of power over foreigners...)

I didn't doubt their unfortunate experiences. But that wasn't relevant to the situation at hand, and I was saddened they didn't want to do anything to improve the atmosphere.

(Them not wanting to improve the atmosphere certainly wasn't as bad as them trying to have me thrown into a Thai jail, chained to a wall, in a stinky, boiling hot, tiny room with 40 other people, but still, it was kind of a bummer.)

I again reaffirmed my wish to "put the incident in the past, move on." And they required me to apologize to the beautiful bully.

The vice president of something was happy enough to let it go, his wry smile symbolizing victory, but the Grinch and dean didn't appear too content. The Grinch shouted at me, again, about how she "was proud of her country" and that "I should show respect to her."

I told her she should be proud of Thailand. And that I love Thailand. That's part of why I was there working. And that I was sorry if I'd done anything that upset her.

The vice president of something (who I found out later was married to the president of the school) put an end to the Grinch's bickering and sent me to apologize to the beautiful bully.

Knowing that this was better than jail and that I'd be leaving soon anyway, I agreed, swallowed my pride and went to her office, shook hands with her, made up.

She took no responsibility for any of it. Made it out to be all my fault, played the victim. Said she would expect that sort of thing in North Korea but not Thailand. But at least she accepted my apology. I thought that'd be the end of it.

But it wasn't.

I was called into another meeting. This one with five people. Two HR acolytes, the dean, the vice president of something, and the Corpse.

The Corpse was the highest-ranking person, and the oldest, and when she entered the room, everyone rose, like smoke from a candle.

When we sat down, everyone's gaze and attention focused solely on me. Five sets of tiger eyes glaring.

The Corpse, with a painting of a bloody, crucified Jesus hanging behind her, held a typed letter, in school letterhead.

Snarling, she gripped the letter like a talisman.

She handed me the rambling screed, which was in calque, and which castigated me for the whole incident and warned me against any further insubordination.

She demanded I sign it. Reluctantly, I did, only because, again, it was better than jail or being deported.

(They held all the cards. I'd made them lose face. I'd committed the ultimate foreigner sin in Thailand.)

((This incoherent letter was my retribution.))

The Corpse told me, orally and telepathically, that I would be docked two days' pay and that I wasn't allowed any leave during my probation period; even if I was sick, seriously ill, I had to come to class, and as long as I followed all school rules, there would be no problems.

She queried if I'd like to "continue here," hinting at my resignation.

I did want to resign, but not so quickly. I had to collect a couple checks from these jerkoffs, to pay back some of my expenses. I was way in the red after paying for plane tickets, the assorted visa costs, setting up my apartment. etc...

Plus, I felt obligated to finish the term, for my handful of diligent students' sake.

Although most of the students didn't care, these few did, and I wanted to do what I could to help them, provide them with tools, methods to improve their English, their general knowledge, teach them to learn how to learn...

(Many teachers in Thailand, at primary schools, high schools, and colleges, wind up teaching to this small, select group of students in the front; the ones in the back rarely coming or not doing much when they did...)

I reiterated my apology, that it was a misunderstanding, and that I hoped we could have a positive relationship going forward.

The Corpse surprised me by saying that she was aware of the problems at the school, the tensions between groups. She asked me to be the person to talk to other groups, be a diplomat, sit at the same table in the cafeteria, talk to the Indians, whomever.