Thai Thoughts and Anecdotes Part 121
DAY AND NIGHT
Gather Round Stickmanites
And You Will Hear
A Story of Time
That Will Give You Good Cheer
If you pay attention
And do what I say
You'll have more fun
And be better at play
You'll be embarrassed to think
Of the old single lay
Your numbers will go up
Two and three a day
So pay attention
Take notes if you will
It's free from me
There ain't no bill
Love is the answer
Love is the key
Listen to me
Get it up to two and three
The average farang in Thailand on a sex vacation can not do simple math and can not tell time. He could do these things with alacrity and skill back in Manchester or Adelaide or Edmonton or San Francisco but now that he is in the Kingdom he can not do simple math or tell time.
Example: Most farang go to Thailand to meet girls and to have relationships with them. That is what they tell their buddies at work (wink wink) and that is what they tell themselves. They saved all year for this and boy-oh-boy are they going to make it pay. They are going to go through women like a scythe through wheat, like a hot knife through butter , like . . . well, anyway they are going to really meet with and score with a lot of ladies. This isn't a bad thing but then they do something when they get to the Kingdom that handicaps them.
They only shop for love at night. They get up around 10:00 or 11:00 and have a late breakfast. Then it is off to MBK to wander air-conditioned aisles of a department store. Maybe they spend time around the pool or they sit in an open air bar to ‘watch the world go by'. If they are really vacation aggressive they manage to make the late tour bus to the Crocodile Farm where they look at torpid beasts. Since they are alone there is no one to buy something for in the gift shop and the photographer did not even bother taking their sad sack photo when they came in the entrance. Loser.
Then it is back to the hotel for a nap. Night is coming. Time for that exciting part of the Thailand experience for the stud from Stuttgart.
They hit the first bar at 8:00 p.m. Well, actually they don't. They used to do this in times past but they have learned that 8:00 p.m. is too early. So they hit the first bar at 9:00 p.m. What follows is several fun hours of talking to guys and watching the television and talking to girls and maybe playing some pool with a nice lady. Some of the bars have shows and they watch those. The girls are amateurs and the shows are amateurish but it is all very charming. They visit several bars. They see a lesbian show which is notable for the way the naked girls drape themselves over the Japanese patrons. The girls may not be educated but they understand the dictum 'follow the money'.
They have more than three drinks. Around midnight they pick up a nice woman and they barfine her. She is fun and cute and she has only been working in the bar for three days. Heck she might be a virgin. She is so so special that she serves as living proof that the really really smart farangs only shop for love at night in places with doors and crappers and menus.
Places like the Q bar on Soi 11 where all of the women just happen to have masters degrees and just happen to be hanging out in a bar on a Thursday night. Places like the Beer Garden bar on Soi 7 where the lineup of young women inside the door is proof that all Chula University students who are saving money to buy a hairdressing salon need to get out once in a while. Or the little pool table bar opposite the Rajah hotel where the first class human beings working as waitresses understand that a man of distinction needs both beer nuts and pretzels. Intelligent women of breeding and class and education. And they just happen to be working six nights per week in little short skirts. Hard not to feel sorry for them though. Apparently they do not make enough money to be able to afford underpants.
Anyway, at midnight Mr. High-class meets a woman and there is a lot of earnest adult talk. She has dreams. He can tell that she respects him and that she respects herself. He barfines her and takes her back to his room at the Nana hotel. Forty-five minutes later they are done and he gives her 5000 baht and she leaves. It is now 1:45 a.m. Too late to shower and dress again and go out again. Why is it too late? Why because the Angels Disco on the ground floor of the hotel is going to close soon and no way is he going to hang around in the parking lot. (note: If a woman is inside the disco she is classy but if she is outside the disco she is not classy. Hey, can anyone out there in crazyville explain this to me?) Anyway, additionally–the bars at the NEP are closing or soon to close and no way is he going to hang around and chat up girls in the street. He's just not that kind of guy. (He's got a closet full of bondage magazines at home but that is a whole different thing.) Etc.
So it is just out of his hands. It is too late. By the time he showers and dresses again and walks back over to the Q bar they would be closing. Heck, he would look foolish. So that's it. Day is done and it was a pretty good day. He did some stuff while the sun was up and he just had sex with a woman of high morals and more beauty than any of his buddies can ever dream about. He is a stud. Time to get a whiskey out of the mini-bar and turn on the TV. At this rate on his ten day once-in-a-year vacation he will have sex with ten women. Hell, that is more than he had in four years of college. Well, no–actually the arrival day and the departure day don't count and he didn't feel well yesterday and the second day he was still jet lagged so it will only be six women. But they are Quality women. Sure.
As he is settling back against the pillows with his self-satisfied expression and his whiskey he has a funny thought. –That Dana cat. That nut job who writes submissions for the Stickmanbangkok.com site. He talks about doing two (and sometimes three) women a day. What a fraud. What a liar. Why does Stickman even accept that crap? Two or three girls per day. What a hoot. Fiction fantasy junk of hyperbole and exaggeration.–
Now out loud–whiskey talking: "Hell, I'm an ex-marine and an ex college ranked wrestler and I'm exhausted. Where does that little jerk get off talking about two (and sometimes three) girls per day? Who in their right mind would believe that nonsense? What a laugh. He's an embarrassment. They shouldn't (another slug of whiskey) even allow him in the country. Idiot. Retard. When I get back to the States (another slug of whiskey) I'm going to write Stickman and straighten this thing out. Idiot."
Ok, my name is Dana: Now let us look at one of my days. Let us look at a Dana day. Let us look at the Day instead of the Night.
I clatter down the steps of the AA Hotel in Pattaya at 7:30 a.m. That is the morning folks. The beginning of the day. You might have forgotten what the morning looks like since coming to the Kingdom. I recommend it. The sun is shining on another wonderful day, the birds are chirping, you meet regular smiling Thais going to work; and because you are up and out you are a part of it. You get included. The smile you get is genuine–unpolluted by alcohol or bargirl drugs or foolish farang storytelling or straining to talk over loud Go-Go bar music. It is just you and the sun and the birds and the sound of the waves on the beach.
Anyway, I'm up and out at 7:30 a.m. Just the basics. A new start and a new sun and a new day. I've taken a shower and I'm wearing new underpants. I feel great. I don't drink and it has been eight hours since I have eaten. My stomach is tight. I'm wearing my beach pants with the turquoise elephants and my Indian cotton shirt and my black foam Nike sandals and all of my jewelry. I look like a tourist and I feel like a tourist. Being a tourist is great. I love being a tourist and I don't care what people think. A new day on planet Earth. A new start for a no longer new man. Renewed hope. Another chance.
As usual I am on the way to the Internet place up north of Big Mikes Shopping Centre. It is new and clean and the front desk girl makes my knees go weak. There is also access to a modern bathroom in the attached restaurant. I do this every morning. It is how I start my day. On the way up the boardwalk I smile at or talk to hookers who are already on station. They start arriving at exactly 7:00 a.m. I figure somewhere on one of the palm trees is a time clock because they start checking in at 7:00 a.m. just like the highly organized, well oiled, super disciplined, focused professionals that they are. I am making friends all the way to the Internet place. When I come out of the Internet place after checking my tens of thousands of emails from needy adoring fans I go into the mini-mart next door and fill up a bag with orange juice cartons and muffins and yoghurts. Never has shopping given me so much pleasure. Exiting the mini-mart with my bag of goodies the little hairs stand up on the back of my neck in anticipation of the pleasure to come.
Back down the boardwalk. More smiles and chatting and I hand out all of the food to Thailand's finest ladies. Smilers familiar with this routine sometimes sort through the bag as if they are looking for a lottery ticket. Others make requests. No matter. They are talking to me. Sometimes I take Polaroid pictures of the girls with my camera that everyone makes fun of and hand out the pictures. In suit-and-tie land this is called networking. In church this is called being friendly. My critics call it colonialism. Apparently if you are being nice to people and giving them gifts and making them happy that is colonialism. Anyway, my critics are in bed. I am meeting women.
Fa is waiting for me as she is every morning. A smile and a hug. She always refuses the food. By 9:45 we are done and I give her 500 baht (for 45 minutes work). It is only 9:45 in the morning guys and I have had sex with a lovely Thai female. She wants to know if I will pick her up tomorrow morning. Of course. At 2:00 p.m. I go to the open air bar at the corner of Walking Street and Beach road and pick up Lek. We walk back to the hotel. It is a lovely day. Made more lovely by the fact that I know the police are not going to burst into my classy night time whore bar and demand that I pee in a bottle. Lek and I are done at 3:30. She takes her 500 baht (for 45 minutes work) and a beer she stole from the minibar and goes back to the bar. But first she asks if I will be coming for her tomorrow afternoon with my smile and my 500 baht. Of course. By-the-way the total cost to me was 500 baht for the 'short time' plus 300 baht barfine plus one 100 baht drink for myself and one 100 baht lady drink for her for a total of 1000 baht; plus one beer from the minibar which the hotel will bill at 160 baht, and the 10 baht to get down to the bar on the baht bus, and if we prorate the hotel time at 860 baht per day and forty-five minutes we get 27 baht. So the total out of pocket for me is 1197 baht for 45 minutes of something.
Don't use the words 'cheap charlie' in Thailand until you know what you are talking about. When is the last time you added up the real cost? Think I am being silly? Really? Hell, I did not even prorate the cost of the airfare. Did you fly to the Kingdom for free?
Let's do it. Let's prorate the cost of the airfare into the cost of the sex. If you only came to Thailand to have sex with females than it is a perfectly legitimate accounting function. If you are not visiting any temples or going to any cultural shows or taking pictures at a botanical garden or on a business trip or visiting friends or doing missionary work or enrolled in the Wat Po massage school or doing a meditation session at a monastery or watching the crocodile show at the Crocodile Farm or engaging in Thai cooking classes or going down the Ping river on a bamboo raft than the only activity that your airfare contributed towards is sex with females. So if you divide the number of females you had sex with into the roundtrip cost of the airfare than that amount of baht has to be added to the real cost of each of your love affairs. Getting nervous? You should be you big-talking nimrod because this is going to cause you to dump in your pants. Put out a call for diapers.
For instance: in my case it costs me $1000 or 40,000 baht to travel to the Kingdom roundtrip. So, for example; if Lek from the open air bar at the corner of Beach road and Walking Street in South Pattaya is the first woman I have had sex with on my vacation than I have to add 40,000 baht to the real cost of having sex with her. So the cost is not really 1197 baht for 45 minutes of something but 41,197 baht. If you are calling me a cheap charlie when I am paying over 40,000 baht for a woman then you need counseling.
I think you can also see and appreciate why if I take a woman back to my hotel room and she doesn't sing and dance and take it up the poopshoot while at the same time knitting me a sweater I can get justifiably upset.
"Hey Honey Bunny–I paid 41,000 baht for this."
Naturally, the only way to get this ball breaking airline fare amortization number down to something reasonable is to have sex with lots and lots of women. For instance, by woman number twenty the per woman airline cost amortization number has reduced to 2000 baht. So if Lek had been the twentieth whore I had sex with on my vacation than the cost for 45 minutes of something would have been 3197 baht (1197 plus 2000). Closer. And this number is with a '500 baht' woman. Imagine what these totals would be if you were shopping Go-Go bars for 'quality' whores. Sweet Jesus. Two thousand baht for short time out of the Rainbow IV bar in Bangkok. Sweet Jesus. Or four thousand baht for short time in Pattaya with some peroxide blonde blue eyed Russian. Sweet Jesus.
So I think you can see that if some farang is going through women in Thailand like prunes through an old lady it is not because he is sex obsessed; he is just trying to get the contact numbers high enough so that his per contact cost is something reasonable. For instance (hypothetically speaking): if I have sex with 75 women in my ten day vacation then my per woman airline cost has been reduced to 533 baht. In Lek's case that would have brought the total to 1730 baht (1197 + 533). Still higher than I would like to be but 75 women in ten days is about my limit. I'm not as young as I used to be. If you happen to run into me in Pattaya and I look a little tired you know the reason. It's just a matter of accounting. No hyperbole or exaggeration. Just the numbers.
Ok, forget the hypothetical case. That was just a way to present the concept. Most men can't do 75 women in 10 days. I know I can't. Hell, I can't even think about it. I'm at the age now where if I blow on a whistle I have to sit down and get some oxygen. I'm not saying my playing days are over but the girl better like me–because I can't chase her. But if you do meet some gaunt-faced, wild-eyed, leaned-out shell of a man and he tells you what he is attempting; high high contact numbers to get the per girl airline cost down–at least you know the reason. Have some sympathy. He's probably an accountant.
Of course none of these are issues for some expats because they make so few (or no) trips out of the kingdom. Once their mommy has died and the British Postal system has cut off their pension for reporting irregularities there is no reason to leave. Example: if an expat came to the Kingdom twenty years ago and the airfare was two hundred dollars and in the last twenty years he has had sex with 4000 women than his per woman cost divided into the cost of the airfare is only five cents or 2 baht.
This is why you never see a stressed out expat. Their per contact cost of a woman divided into their airline ticket to get to paradise is negligible. You can have some fun with this. If the number of women an expat has fallen in love with is high enough the per contact airline fee cost actually drops under one baht which is treated as zero in accounting. For example: if an expat has had loving contact with 8200 women in twenty years and the original airfare was $200 than the per contact airline fee amortization cost is just .98 baht. I'll drink to that.
So anyway a lot of farang tourists with more degrees than a thermometer factory can add in Ontario or Christ Church or Venice or Oslo like a calculator on speed but here in the Kingdom suddenly they can not add. And that means you. You would have told your buddies that she (Lek) only cost 500 baht (wink wink). Anyway, she will get all of the 500 baht, plus part of the lady drink, plus part of the barfine, plus the beer she stole out of the minibar. At the door she asks for taxi money. She can walk.
Lek can't wait to see me tomorrow and around 1:30 she will start looking for me down the street so that some other girl does not get me. I spent 1197 baht (plus whatever the airline factored number of baht is) and she is getting about 630 baht plus the beer out of the minibar. Who is screwing who? Did you ever wonder why these poor downtrodden girls are at the same bar year after year? It's a good job that's why. In fact it might be a better job than the dignity robbing, hopeless, no future, spirit killing job you have. Don't add it up Mr. Bigtalk–you might find out you would be doing better and be happier as a prostitute.
Anyway, it is now only 3:30 in the afternoon in sunny Pattaya and I have already fallen in love two times. First with Fa in the early morning and then with Lek in the early afternoon. This is not a matter of fiction or hyperbole or exaggeration but a matter of time. I have more than twice as much time as the night hunter. My day is from 7:30 a.m. to around 5:30 p.m.–ten hours. The average farang night hunter is working a time window of around 9:00 p.m to 1:00 a.m.–four hours. Let's see. Let us put on our thinking caps. And let us do this together without name-calling or acrimony. What is a bigger number? Four hours or ten hours?
Stumped? Well the answer is ten hours. Ten hours is a bigger number with more opportunity available within it than four hours. But a lot of smarty-pants farang tourists forget how to do simple math and how to tell time as soon as the plane touches tarmac at Don Muang airport. They cover for the disquieting notion that they might actually be mistaken, and that I might actually be correct by painting their behavior with the patina of quality. They are only interested in quality whores. They actually say this with a straight face. As if the concept of an oxymoron (military intelligence) does not exist in Thailand. Quality whores. That is why they shop at night in whore stores (bars) with no ice and unisex crappers. Quality. Sure.
Ok, it is now 3:45 in the afternoon in Pattaya and I am feeling no pain. I had plenty of time to do all of my little errands during the day and I had plenty of time to make love to two wonderful women. It is true that they did not have masters degrees and they were not virgins but that is ok. So now what? Do I want to spend the rest of this fabulous beautiful day sitting on the bed watching TV or would I rather go out and sit on the boulevard? Points to you if you guessed that I cycle down each day by just sitting on the boulevard ‘watching the world go by'.
If you do this 'watching the world go by' routine at Lucky Luke's bar on Soi 4 in Bangkok you are a philosopher and an international traveler. If I do this on a bench under a palm tree in Pattaya I am a whoremonger. Isn't anyone embarrassed at all of this name-calling? Anyway, there is another hour and a half before my day ends. The mid morning heat is over and the girls are coming back. The boulevard is filling up again with girls I saw this morning and new night riders. Do you suppose that without even trying I might meet a nice woman? That I do not even have to get up from the bench? Well, that would be number three for the day wouldn't it. And none of this day could remotely be called the sexual athletics of some kind of prodigy of prowess. Hell, I wasn't even trying. It is just that I had ten hours and a smile and a bag full of breakfast treats to work with.
So it is all about simple math and time gentlemen. I have ten hours–you have four hours. I have the daytime and you have part of the night. I meet lots and lots of women and you watched a lesbian show and then hit on a woman who said she had only been working there three days. If you want to spend all year saving money and waiting for your big trip to Bangkok to wander around in the aisles of MBK in the afternoon (isn't that what farang women do?) that is your business. If I am in Bangkok I find it much much more profitable to be standing on the sidewalk outside of Foodland on Soi 5, or playing pool in the daytime bars, or pretending to shop in Robinson's Department store on Soi 19 (they should put a crystal dome over that place and call it a shrine). I know what I am in Thailand for. I'm not sure you do.
So the next time you are leaning back against the pillows in your hotel room at 2:00 a.m. with your minibar whiskey in your hand and you are pondering how any guy could be doing two (and sometimes three) women in a day consider time. It is all about time. Day time and Night time. It isn't about sexual prowess or about exaggeration or about hyperbole or about fiction–it is just a matter of time. I have ten hours and you have four hours. You are under stress to 'make something happen' and I am under no stress at all. I can take a nap and still lap you on the love track.
Try it. Try reversing your life and leaving your hotel at 7:30 a.m. It doesn't matter what city you are in. My routine is the same whether I am in Patong or Pattaya or Chiang Mai or Kanchanaburi or Bangkok. Get out early and start handing out gifts and taking give-a-way pictures with your Polaroid and start smiling and start mixing. You'll meet more girls and you'll have more fun. That is what you came to Thailand for isn't it?
Or is it?
Oh, and by-the-way; you know that gaunt-faced, wild-eyed, leaned out 'hypothetical' guy who was trying to have sex with 75 women in ten days to get his per contact airline ticket fee cost down? Don't think he can do it? Think again varicose balls. During the Happy Time (female lions horny) male lions in Africa mate every 25 minutes in a four day period. That's 230 times in four days that Leroy the Lion from Swaziland hanging out at the Nubian Entertainment Plaza (NEP) hears,
"I no lyin', lion, you number one lion."
Lyin' bargirl lion bitches . . ! But what a four day party! All our hypothetical guy has to do is 75 women in 10 days. Maybe he'll make it.