The Search (The Beer Bar Grind)
It's still definitely possible to find pleasant companionship for an evening. It just seems to take more work than ever, sorting the wheat from the chaff, so to speak. I found a gal last night who was nice enough. She's only been here one month, though, and that's the key. The other girls are already filling her head with the standard warnings, prejudices, schemes and counter-schemes regarding us Farangs. Their training just hasn't had time to settle in and take hold yet. Within a year, I expect she'll be a loud, foul-mouthed, tattooed, chain-smoking, whiskey-swilling, swaggering ho-mama like the rest of them. For now, though, she's still relatively unspoiled. Here's what I went through to find her:
First stop, I thought I'd found the woman of my dreams. Gorgeous face and body. Very light skin. I ordered soda water and sat down to chat. Turns out she's from Chiang Mai. AIDS capital of Thailand (the entire North, actually). Then, I noticed a couple of scars on her arm. What's that? Oh, she was in a car wreck a few years ago. Spent THREE MONTHS in the hospital. Hard to believe, but that's what she said. Must have been some accident! Must have lost some blood. Probably received some transfusions. Blood screened for HIV? One would certainly hope so. I'm also wondering what hideous scars are hidden under her clothes. I've seen the handiwork of plenty of Thai surgeons over the years, and it usually ain't pretty. Girls who've had appendectomies or C-sections have thick, ugly scars to show for it. So, on to the next bar.
Went to a place where I used to take a girl out pretty regularly. I'd heard she'd left and was now at an a-go-go. I don't take dancers out of a-go-gos because they are expensive and poor value. The mamasan at this beer bar was always nice to me, so I thought I'd go see what new faces she might have working there. Mamasan was definitely eager to introduce me to the new talent, but the only pretty girl kept her back turned, while standing directly in front of me as Mamasan tried to introduce us. ICE COLD! No thanks. All the other girls were fat. (It seems like 90% of the beer bar girls are fat now. All the skinny gals are making the big bucks in the a-go-gos.).
At the next bar, a very pretty, slim girl seemed anxious to go with me. I asked if she smoked. Cigarettes, I mean. She said, "Why? You want one?," producing from her pocket a pack. I can't stand cigarettes and explained as much. She said she only smokes occasionally and promised she could get through the night without lighting up if I forbade it. I don't believe her. Addicts lie. She could be a hard-core nicotine junkie who would be climbing the walls within ten minutes once I got her back to my room. I've had the experience a few times before. Not fun. They stink up the bathroom, thinking I can't smell it, or they want to sneak out all the time, even after I've gone to sleep. God knows what they could get up to once they left the room! Might be lighting a crack pipe for all I know, then return all bug-eyed and crazy. Or invite their brother or boyfriend back to rob me. My rule is, if they leave, they can't come back. Period. Unless it's a girl I've known a long time and somewhat trust. Well, anyway, then she told me why she was so eager to leave the bar with me. Not because I'm "SEXY MAN!" No. Last night, she stayed up until 10 AM this morning drinking with her friends. Now she's wiped out and can barely keep her eyes open. She just wants someone, ANYONE, to bar-fine her outta there so she can get some sleep. Sound like fun? NOT!
Next place, I spoke to a pretty girl who had a bad cough. Said she's sick. Thais think you catch colds from rain, but I believe viruses are spread by sick people. Then I noticed she had rotten teeth. Something about colds, flus and ugly crumbling teeth make me not want to kiss a girl.
On to the next bar, I chatted a few minutes with an extremely beautiful girl. I knew it was a long-shot, but what the hell. Yep, she's just as I expected: vain and aloof. She sure ain't interested in this balding old fart with a beer belly! Then, right next door I found her: my date for the evening. Nothing spectacular to look at, but cute enough. She's warm and friendly. Doesn't push me to buy drinks. We had a pleasant night together, but what a hassle I had to go through to find her! Whew!
Stickman says:
Oh, the hassles of trying to find a prostitute in Thailand..
