Deer In The Headlights

I’m again in Bangkok, this time without my Chinese-American girlfriend (who accompanied me last to massage parlors on New Petchaburi Road to the squeals of delight from her and several Stick readers). As traffic is currently even more difficult
than usual as a result of the continued closure of the subway due to accident, I have found myself staring out taxi windows and really looking at the mass of humanity mostly passing ME by in a stopped taxi.

Clearly from my previous observations, I’m not a prude. However I’m not an obsessed sex-tourist to Thailand, and while I’ve taken advantage of some of the perks (although I’ve not been in a girlie bar and am unlikely
to ever go), I would generally believe that this is only one small aspect of my life and if Thailand ended it tomorrow, it wouldn’t have any affect on me nor end the reasons I come to Thailand in the first place.

For the first time on this, my fourth visit, I have become aware of the large numbers of mostly embarrassing middle-aged men prowling the streets, on the Skytrain, and wandering the malls either with a young Thai woman in tow or looking for
a young Thai woman for just such an engagement. And the common expression both of these groups of men share is easily identified, and profoundly sad.

Sitting on a road yesterday between New Petchaburi and Sukhumvit, a block or two from Nana intersection, I noted large numbers of men with their “dead” eyes, dragging their sorry asses along the sidewalk, ever vigilant for the
possibility that the next Thai girl approaching them would signal her desire to immediately engage in the mythical “zipless fuck” right there on the street. Only to be saddened when it doesn’t happen. For many of these “dead
eyes” are, in the other aspects of their life, losers as well. Friendless, careerless, joyless losers all.

I was in the Emporium yesterday looking for the Breitling dealer who could replace a battery in my watch, unwilling to trust it to just any jeweler. Thai girls and their stupid farang boyfriends wandering in “luxury goods” stores. These farang slobs wouldn’t know what the inside of a Hermes or Armani store looked like at home (does Des Moines Iowa or Glasgow Scotland have an Armani store?) A Thai girl holding up Armani clothing in front of a 120 kg short balding Midwesterner, telling him how nice he looks. Yea, right. Kinda like putting clothes on a monkey.

It’s been noted by other writers here on Stickman the fat, bald, stupid-looking farang men being carted around by their mostly canny Thai girlfriends, with the implied notion that somehow the girls have done something wrong. Nothing could be further from the truth. I am heartened in fact to find out that a basic human truth is at work fairly in Thailand – survival of the fittest. Darwin couldn’t have been more accurate with this tome than what occurs in Thailand on a daily basis. And their “dead eyes” that apparently develop in these men, and their stupidity overtakes their rationality, make them to outside non-participant observers proverbial deer in the headlights of Thai womanhood. Self-awareness is a useful quality. Most of these men don’t have it, and the girls have it in spades. It’s almost unfair, roughly equivalent to the lambs being led to slaughter.

All for sex? Sorry, I don’t get it. And I have no sympathy for either of these players, and am mostly rooting for the girls.

Let the races begin!

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