Readers' Submissions

Bicycles, Saunas And Morality

  • Written by Anonymous
  • November 29th, 2005
  • 8 min read


Black Pagoda Patpong Bangkok

I am on my way to Pattaya. But I am not on the Expressway bus out of Mochit Station. I’m on Highway 57 in Cambodia. And I’m on my bicycle. And it’s been raining for the past two hours. I am on vacation. I have to remind myself of this fact, as otherwise I might wonder what I am doing out here. Today has been a challenging day. My hands have been numb from road surface vibrations since I left the pavement at Batambang. I have been soaked in both sweat and rain. I am now covered in mud and my bike has, on its own, just slid 40 feet across a muddy road, stopping just before the start of the local mine field. I am on vacation.

A lot of times, ideas seem good until they are acted upon. This bike trip was turning into one of those. My original plans were evaporated away by a monsoon that was lasting as long as the text books predicted it would. I was now left to just wander around the North East of Thailand without purpose or reason. Just when things had reached a nadir, I had my epiphany.

It was the on day that I left Sawanaphum for Surin. If you like rice, this is the ride for you. After spending the day looking at rice, I am now closing in on Surin. It was nine kilometers out of town, at PTT gas station, where I had just spent several minutes admiring a young man’s cock. Not just one cock but a whole flock of fighting birds kept right there at the gas station. Apparently it is not an everyday occurrence that a fat, old white guy pulls into this station on a bicycle. The staff is curious as to what I am doing there. The usual limited Thai and pantomime conversation ensues.

This time there is one difference, the young man whose cock I was admiring, tells me that he has a sister in Pattaya. “Wow”, I tell him, “that’s where I’m going.” I really wasn’t going there, but I began to think about it very rapidly, and suddenly I had my ‘reason d etre’. Not only am I going to Pattaya, but I’m going there to have sex with this guy’s sister. A life without goals and ambitions is a life wasted.

Five days later and I am traveling between Battambang and Pailin, on a horrifically bad road in the rain. After eight hours of this, I make it to Pailin, an unremarkable town, of unknown redeeming qualities.

I was not the only causality of Highway 57 this date. The phone number that the young man had given me was now smudged beyond legibility. Yes, this is a set back, but not enough to abort the mission. I carry on, and three rain soaked days later I pull into Pattaya, encrusted in filth. Me that is, not Pattaya.

Pattaya turned out to be a pleasant place. Even though I did not have sex with the guy’s sister, I had an enjoyable time looking around the city. I did notice however, that the cutest of the North East cute girl stock certainly never make it to Pattaya, but beggars can’t be choosers.

Three days after arriving in Pattaya, I am in Bangkok. My bike ride is over, my reason d etre is gone. I am wandering around the Tesco store by the On Nut BTS. ‘What the fxxk’, I think to myself, I am in exotic Thailand and the best I can do is wander around a Tesco store. This is not right.

The Prime Minister of Thailand owns an airline. It is called ‘Thai Asia Air’. Now everyone can fly, including me. It just so happens that there is a Thai Asia Air kiosk right by the Tesco store at the On Nut BTS. I decide to go to Hong Kong and Macau, and purchase a ticket at the kiosk.

A couple days later I fly to Macau and take the ferry over to Hong Kong. I spend a couple days in Hong Kong then take the ferry back to Macau. This works out nicely as I like to do both places as they provide a nice ying/yang contrast to each other.

So I am in Macau, and I am following the walking route of the Macau Tourist Authority, seeing historic and wonderful sights. I walk all over the place, all day long, by the time I get back to my luxurious hotel, I am double dog tired.

Earlier in the day I had noticed an advertisement in the hotel’s elevator. It was an advertisement for the hotel’s sauna. The place looked real nice, and I felt that it would provide me some medicinal benefits after walking around all day. So rather than going to the room, I go to the sauna. I am taken aside by the young man with good English skills and told how things work. There are numerous options on the menu, from just splashing in the water to your heart’s content, to having sex with girls of seven different nationalities. I like to have sex with girls. That sounds good, but so many different nationalities. What to do? What to do?

I have the bright idea that I want to speak English to the girl that I have sex with. English on the bike ride was little and far between, so now I want to speak it. I pick a girl from the Philippines. I am told that she has been there for only two weeks and she is very good looking. I am offered the chance to take a look, but decline, for if the young man says she’s good looking I’ll take his word on it.

So I do the sauna thing. It’s feels nice to frolic naked in the warm water. But, I do have this great shame about my body that Chinese gentlemen in the sauna do not seem to have. Perhaps, this is because I am blessed to have Jesus Christ as my lord and savior. Or possibly, it is due to being cursed with a non-proportionally sized penis. After the water sports, I lounge in the lounge. It’s relaxing nature only broken when groups of thirty scantily dressed Chinese women parade through the room. However relaxing, it is now time to have sex with the girl from the Philippines. I am taken upstairs to the room, and introduced to the young lady. The minder leaves and now we are alone.

I have been to a massage establishment in Bangkok and this young lady did not seem like the girls there. She actually seemed scared, and very shy, and very cute. But she is from the Philippines and she speaks English, so we chat. It turns out that she was recruited for the job out of a shopping mall in Manila. She was seen and asked if she wanted to go overseas to work giving legitimate massage. As money was an issue, she took the job, and ended up in Macau, where she found out that sex with customers is also part of the job. The Sauna’s management has her passport, so she can’t leave Macau. And now it is time for the shower. And located in the shower stall is the strangest chair that I have ever seen.

Everything seems very wrong. And now I feel very bad. I can’t touch this cute, young lady. Well, I can touch her; I just can’t touch her in the places that I’d want to. And sex, that’s out of the question. We end up chatting for a couple of hours, then I leave, but not before getting a date for the next morning with her.

The next morning I meet the young lady from the Philippines and take her on a forced march of the Macau Tourist Authority walking route. It is a very pleasant time. She is not only very cute, but she becomes even cuter when facial expressions are done. I don’t know much about the Philippines, but I’d bet that facial expression is a major part of communications there. She has a physical examination in the afternoon, so we agree to meet later in the day. Of course this can’t happen as I give an incorrect room number. Hell! I think it was because it was the War of 1826 not 1824, that confused me. After we part, Macau no longer seems like the happy go lucky place that it once did. It has taken on a tinge of evilness. I no longer like it here.

I feel bad the next morning as I am leaving at 2:30 that afternoon, and I’d like to at least get an email address from her, to see how things turn out for her. I think real hard, real, real hard, and figure out what to do. I place a call to the young man that works at the sauna. An hour and a half later, he and she are in my room. I slip him a tip, and am now alone with the young lady from the Philippines.

I don’t know why, but as we chat she relaxes on the bed. So I relax there also. And soon of course, we are both naked. I’m sort of a slow learner, and don’t really know how things got to this point. But I am also a deep thinker, and am having trouble justifying why it is

OK to have sex with her now, when it wasn’t OK one night ago. But talk about a nice body, oh my god, she had one. But morality wins out, and I do not have sexual relations with that lady.

I do get a phone number and email address. I will keep in touch with her, as I worry about the effects of such work on her. I get in the taxi and go to the airport, where I take the prime minister’s airline back to Thailand.

If you made it this far and would like to read more about the bicycle tour that I undertook, here is the link www.mtl2.crazyguyonabike.com

Stickman's thoughts:

A very nice story.