In a twist of fate that could be the plot of an urban legend, a man once swept up in the soapy success of the coin-operated laundry world found himself on the wrong side of the law. Phromlikit, a former entrepreneur accustomed to playing the game of clean clothes and spun cycles, was recently arrested alongside his accomplice, Chanchai, for breaking into coin-operated washing machines. The saga began with a thriving business, was turned upside down by the pandemic, and ended with a tale of woe and wits that seems fit for a primetime special.
Once the proud owner of a coin laundromat empire, Phromlikit’s rise and fall are an all-too-familiar parable of the times. His business, like so many others, took a nosedive amidst the chaos of the Covid-19 pandemic in 2020. Despite his initial success, which saw washing machines whirling across northeastern Thailand, the unexpected virus proved a formidable foe. Revenue dried up, and with it, any legitimate means to afford his lifestyle and leisure activities—rumor had it that his affections were split between online gambling dens and the siren call of methamphetamine.
Phromlikit, 34, and his partner-in-crime Chanchai, 43, were apprehended by Police Colonel Chamrat Siriliang and the diligent team from Mueang Buriram Police Station. With a motorcycle as their trusty steed and a toolkit equipped for mischief, they embarked on a citywide spree that spanned seven locations. Their targets: humble coin-operated washing machines and water dispensers. These innocuous machines, nestled within the realm of student dormitories and apartments peppered across Buriram city, surrendered their shiny treasures in capers that took no longer than a mere 2 to 3 minutes each.
Now facing the consequences of his actions, Phromlikit looked back with regret, offering an apology to the property owners he had wronged. Ironically, these were individuals who had once been his clients, the beneficiaries of his now-vanished trade of installing and repairing coin-operated equipment. Lamenting his choices, he claimed the stolen cash—averaging about 3,000 baht per machine—was his saving grace for daily survival, gambling whims, and his less-than-legal indulgences. KhaoSod reported his contrition, a sentiment as real as the coin-trays he’d plundered.
Meanwhile, the crime-related melodrama wasn’t exclusive to Buriram. Over in Phuket Town, the curious case of copper wire thefts was unfolding. Enter Pipatson “Nok” Thongwicha—a 25-year-old from Nakhon Sri Thammarat—who was tracked and captured by Phuket City Police in a sting that rivaled any detective novel. His alleged antics of pilfering the conductive veins from roadsides and businesses preempted by a detailed, cerebral investigation brought a collective sigh of relief to frustrated locals. His capture at a rental room on Surin Road around 4 PM on July 23 was a small victory in the broader hunt for justice.
In the ever-spinning carousel of Thailand’s unfolding tales, crime does not take holiday—but sometimes public officers do. As one chapter of trouble draws to a close with Phromlikit and Chanchai’s arrest, another, involving the broader complexities of border concerns or cultural happenings, begins. The news cycle spins on, restless as any laundry drum and as captivating as the myriad stories across the vibrant landscapes of Thailand. So here we are, avid readers of the human condition, ever fascinated by the tangle of headlines and hopeful for a touch of cleanliness in a world where lines are constantly blurred.
I can’t believe someone who owned such a thriving business would resort to stealing from the very machines he once promoted.
It’s sad but sometimes desperation can lead people to make really poor decisions.
True, but it’s still disappointing. There must have been other ways.
Exactly, Anna. Desperation can cloud judgment, but at the end of the day, we are accountable for our actions.
Greed, plain and simple. Once a thief, always a thief!
This sounds almost like a comedic plot from a heist movie. I never would have thought stealing from washing machines would be a big deal.
I know, right? But I guess in countries where cash is more prevalent, those coins add up!
It’s not the amount, it’s the principle. They betrayed trust!
Phromlikit’s story is an illustration of the precariousness of entrepreneurship, especially in volatile times such as the pandemic.
How fitting, a laundromat owner laundering his life into chaos!
Clever wordplay! But seriously, he probably felt both irony and regret.
I think he was living beyond his means from the get-go. Running a business isn’t easy, but stealing is never the answer.
If only he had sought help before resorting to crime. There might have been financial assistance available.
Exactly, Katherine, there are almost always resources that go unnoticed.
The irony of a laundromat owner turning to a life of crime is almost Shakespearean.
I guess next time he should try laundering his reputation instead.
Hopefully, he will learn and reform rather than rinse and repeat this behavior.
I think this shows how important it is to have a backup plan. You never know when things can take a nosedive.
Right on, Tom. Financial literacy should be part of every entrepreneur’s toolkit.
I just hope for Phromlikit’s sake, that he learns from this. Everyone deserves a second chance.
Between pandemic pressures and the lure of quick cash, it seems even the best intentions can get lost.
It’s so common for businesses to suffer during economic hardships. Instead of resorting to crime, he should have looked for other business opportunities.
Anyone else think Chanchai probably pushed him into it? Sometimes all it takes is an accomplice to drown out reason.
Phromlikit is responsible for his own choices, Johnny. Blaming others doesn’t undo the crime.
It’s fascinating how certain businesses flourished and others failed during the pandemic. It shows the unpredictability of global crises.