Stickman Readers' Submissions December 23rd, 2005

Delightful Pattaya Wild Life Zoo (1/2) A Day Stroll

9.03 a.m. Mr. F's day in Pattaya Wild Life Zoo starts with a bright and beautiful morning sky. Mr. F. gets up in his Pattaya midrange hotel room, dresses and steps onto the balcony. The look goes down to the swimming pool, which is already beleaguered
by Farang male hotel guests and their Thai female rental companions.

— Beauty In The Pool 1 —

He Clinic Bangkok

See, there is one chick swimming in the turquoise waters. But wow, she is different: Her long hair gracefully spreads around her tiny, but delicately curved body, packed in a conservative, yet cute one-piece swimsuit. Mr. F. still has to
fully wake up, but: This one is *too young*! She may be 15, 16 – no more!

Look, she talks to someone behind the corner, he can only see half of the pool actually. But look, her face is so young and innocent! Sweet smile, not one percent jaded. Her voice, not croaking, but soft, child-like and demure! My god, she's
an angel! He must protect her! Does she spread for the skinny pale white guy with huge glasses there on the right? Does she have to swallow the tattooed wompy smelly bald bastard's in that deckchair?? She's not legal!!!

Thinks a jealous Mr. F., as he retreats from the balcony and strolls towards the breakfast place. *He* would be so much better for her. *He* would treat her right. But is she legal?

CBD bangkok

The track towards breakfast leads along the pool. And there she sits now, a mere five meters ahead of him, his innocent longhaired Pattaya angel – sits with her Thai family: five, six Thais of all ages, lounging around a table, happily chatting
and snacking on som tam, peanuts and coke. A holidaying Thai family! Never expected that. Oh my god. What had he thought. He blushes.

Passing them, Mr. F. bows deep down, as he learnt in Isaan families, so that his head does not sit above their heads. He doesn't dare to look any closer. They keep chatting and snacking, don't pay any attention to him. As if they
didn't know his thoughts.

— Beauty In The Pool 2 —

11.23 a.m. After breakfast and newspapers, back to the room. He can see, there are some wimin splashing again. Yes, of course, Thai ladies in super short bikinis; would a *good girl* ever wear those on a remote beach? Now this time he is
sure: these are paid relieve valves, splashing, but supervised by their customers bunked on the pool shore.

wonderland clinic

They are not heavenly like the pre-breakfast schoolgirl appearance; but they look enticing anyway, frolicking about in their sparse textiles, with lots of wet golden flesh shown off. The parking renters on the sides don't even look.

Different from Mr. F. He watches the delightful semi-nude maidens in the pool with rising interest; quite frankly, he feels a pressure that these ladies could cater for. He'd grab the one with the shorter hair, look, bottom solid and
well-shaped; he can even see her delicate gooseflesh.

Ever so keeniow, Mr. F. starts to calculate: Could he ask that one for a ST job and then return her to her LT customer? Is it custom to sublet your bargirl to other punters? Just for a short, ehm, while? How about payment: LT fee divided
by 24 multiplied with hours of use?

As the pressure rises, Mr. really would like the advice of the expert readers: Does etiquette allow you to rent another one's bar girl as her main customer snoozes on the deckchair, visibly less aroused than Mr. F.?
How do you handle that?

In this case, Mr. F. would have to talk to a tattooed guy of about 1,90 meters height and width with bushes of body hair all over. For today, Mr. F. decides to drop his subrental idea.

— The Mat —

15.24 p.m. God, what a rip-off. Mr. F. lounges on Dongtan beach now. He has brought a hotel towel which is soon full of sand, ants and needles from the Casuarina trees. That's bad news: He is keen on keeping fully clean, folded towels,
for the event of spontaneous visitors to his hotel room. And oh, they rent these plastic picnic mats over there, he has seen it.

He goes to rent one mat for himself. Can't be all that expensive. In Cambodia they rent for the equivalent of 4 Baht. Okay, this is Pattaya, and then: "100 Baht" says the sales guy. This is ridiculous! Full Farang discrimination:
1) the rental price 2) the language: Mr. F. had asked in clear Thai, the answer came in English. Why?

Back on his towel, angry, back to reading Cornwel's "Very Thai". More sand, ants, needles and leaves on his towel. What if he has a visitor tonight, and no fresh towel? He feels shy to order more fresh towels from the room
service, even though they might be used to this request. What's your advice?

See, now the picnic mat guy walks off, a lady is in charge. He tries again. "120 Baht", she says!! Even a price hike! 120 for a few hours of lounging. Then he notices, all those mats look absolutely new. Oh, *now* he understands:
They *sell* the mats, it's not a rent. "Why 120", he asks then, "before it was 100". He gets it for 100.

— Pink Sunset —

17.40 p.m. At sunset hour, Mr. F. strolls Dongtan beach along the water line. A fiery red ball settles down behind Ko Laan, lukewarm Gulf waters hug his ankles… When a musing Mr. F. awakes from his contemplations about a bar girl subrental
agency, he notices a strange couple only 20 meters ahead in the waterline: A farang male tourist, about 50, pale, fat and balding, wearing a string tanga heftily challenged by a sizable erection; kissing (yes, kissing) a young dark skinny Thai
call boy in black jeans and muscle shirt with blonde-dyed hair.

Mr. F. is a simple small town guy. He is discomforted by the sight of 50ish pale fat balding white men slurping over skinny dark teenage Thai boys. Only about 20 meters away, they walk the same waters as Mr. F. The sea around his ankles suddenly
feels soupy, no – viscid.

Mr. F. hikes back to more populated parts. There seems to be a skinny call boy lurking behind every single Casuarina tree. "Hello Mr….!!" Arghhh. Sleazy sleazy looks. Mr. F. fastens his steps.

Back into the central Jomtien beach strip. Mr. F. sighs with relief – back to normality: Fat, bald, 50ish tattoo-covered farang males with string-tanga-challenging erections grab all over dark teenage Thai *ladies* with dyed hair. The world
is normal again.

nana plaza