Stickman Readers' Submissions July 29th, 2005

Number 9

By Chris

I have a Thai girlfriend of sorts, living in Bangkok (I live in Australia). Now, while I'm more than aware of the cultural gap between us, I reckon I'm fairly good at squaring up to most of the differences. But this tale absolutely floored me
when it happened!

A couple of months ago, me and my tee-rak (let's call her 'Lon' for now) are walking back to my hotel when she suggests we pull a left into Patpong of all places, where she had seen a T-shirt for me.

He Clinic Bangkok

Now before I progress, it's worth stating that Lon is a perfectly respectable, everyday Thai girl. She's no tart, and in many ways is actually quite conservative. A farang boyfriend was a big step for her.

Anyway, after my several sideways glances at the various bars, Lon casually suggests we go in. Fine, no problem. We're not above playful banter between us – to a point.

So we sit down at the bar while she strikes up a friendly conversation with a number of the many girls on offer. Most are quite attractive, and all wear the same gear – white stockings, white panties and matching bra. I thought the effect
was rather striking under the neon lights, especially with their contrasting long, black hair.

CBD bangkok

I sit close to my tee-rak, and eventually catch the eye of a dancer on the stage who is gyrating from her pole in my direction. And a honey she is too!

Well after a drink or two, Lon gives me a saucy look and asks which one I like most. I go along with her joke and point to "number 9" on the stage, who is still making eyes.

After a few more amorous lines, Lon then absolutely floors me by saying: "Why don't you have her, and I'll wait for you." I laugh. She keeps on about it, and I think, OK, she's in a jocular mood so I'll just
play along for a while longer.

Anyway, after a few more playful digs I suspect she's actually quite serious! My unease grows when Lon beckons the pretty dancer down from the stage and after a few friendly pleasantries in Thai introduces us. Her name is Lek.

wonderland clinic

So these two girls fire up a casual conversation, chatting and giggling away as if setting up your boyfriend with a bargirl is the most natural thing in the world.

Well, I'm getting a bit edgy at this point. Lek, the lovely bargirl, is looking my way in eager anticipation, and Lon isn't doing a lot to bring her to heel. I remonstrate with Lon, but she assures me it's quite OK with her,
and perfectly natural for a man to occasionally want another woman! She even appears to be enjoying her boyfriend's growing protests.

So, I figure that either I'm witnessing some bizarre aspect of Thai culture…or she's deliberately setting her tee-rak up for A Big Fall.

Fine! If the little vixen really wants to risk everything by testing me then she deserves exactly what she asks for. Besides, I'm by now splitting my pants with excitement at this strange and erotic turn of events. A quick thrash with
the delicious Lek (now with her hand caressing my leg) is tempting stuff.

So I look my tee-rak straight in the eye and say: "See you in an hour." Even at this point, I'm amazed at her nonchalant recognition of the fact, her soft and loving peck on my cheek, and friendly wave to Lek as she leaves.

This is crazy, I think! I fully expect, having called Lon's bluff, that this will be the last I ever see of her.

So me and the raunchy "number 9" get together in a big way for an hour or so. I'll spare the details, suffice to say a good time was had by all – despite the guilt trip and tinge of sadness which is also carving its way into
my conscience.

Anyway, the deed done, and I walk back to the bar. Well, whaddaya know…there sits my beautiful Lon, smiling prettily and apparently very pleased to see me!

I'm too stunned to say much. There may have been some smalltalk like: "Did you have a nice time, dear?", but I can barely remember. I sit quietly next to her, and she wriggles in close – just like she always does.

Lek, the bargirl, surprises me by joining us after a few minutes and the two girls giggle away together in Thai. She leaves a little while later. Me and Lon finish our drinks and leave too, not saying much – but she's as warm and affectionate
as she was before the 'deal'.

So that's it. Probably the most bizarre event of my life. I have absolutely nothing to say in my defence, other than I was pushed beyond the bounds any sane and reasonable man can be expected to endure.

In further mitigation, I should also say that there's been no fallout whatsoever on Lon's part. On occasion I've tested the waters with a subtle mention of "number 9" but, for Lon, it's clearly history. Apparently
it's no big deal! Go figure…

Stickman's thoughts:


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