Readers' Submissions

Thailand For The Discerning Gentleman

  • Written by Union Hill
  • August 24th, 2006
  • 7 min read


This article is aimed at those readers who have been there, done that and bought the tee-shirt. You’ll know who you are because you’ll have hair growing in your ears and some of you will no longer need to carry a comb in your back pocket. You won’t have a moustache anymore because you shaved it off a couple of decades ago when it started to turn grey. You’re the guy who bought The Dark Side Of The Moon when it was only available as a twelve inch LP and you played it on the hi-fi in your bedroom. You will have no idea who The Black Eyed Peas are and modern music sounds like ‘doof doof, doof doof’ to you. The last time you went to a nightclub you were wearing flared trousers and a cheesecloth shirt. Motorola made car radios in those days, not mobile phones. You know that because you used to have one fitted in your 1971 Ford Capri. You were probably born before 1960.

Any of you remember what it was like to be twenty years of age? Those days when you felt immortal, when you could eat and drink anything you wanted without worrying about cholesterol levels or hypertension. When you got an erection looking at concrete paving and you could make love five times a night provided you could find a willing partner or partners. You would tackle the iciest of maidens armed with little more than your dazzling personality and a Martini and lemonade with occasional backup from Barry White. You didn’t have a mortgage or an ex-wife and The Devil hadn’t yet spawned the Child Support Agency.

I remember it like it was yesterday. Those glory days of youth. Was it ever really as you remember it or do memories of our youth improve with age?

Then along came your one true love and the rug rats and the mortgage. A few short years later, your one true love has ruthlessly gutted you financially and emotionally, your kids hate you and you had to sell the house as part of the divorce settlement. Life, eh? These days western women don’t want to know you. You just ain’t what they’re looking for. The only pleasures left in life are the football, John Smith’s Extra Smooth and your old Dire Straits CD.

Well that, gentlemen is not for me. Let me tell you that despite some recent articles making assertions to the contrary, sex tourism and the GFE is alive and well in Thailand. If you are over forty, you are a sought after commodity and this is still the land of opportunity. In Thailand you are still a ‘hansum man’ and you are very welcome. Don’t listen to those young bucks bemoaning the decline of Thailand’s nightlife. They can get laid anywhere for free so what are they looking for in the LOS?

Living in Thailand is for old guys. Living in Thailand restores your youth. You stay young at heart and mind. It’s just that the packaging looks a bit battered.

Last week, I met Noi in a Bangkok pool bar. They don’t have Nois like her in Farangland, as far as I know. For a while I forgot she was a hooker. She didn’t talk like a hooker, she didn’t smell like a hooker, she didn’t even dress like a hooker. So how did I know she was a hooker? Well, when I offered to buy her a drink she offered me a ‘short time’ for fifteen hundred baht. I bargained with her and we settled on a ‘long time’ for two thousand baht. Noi was a hottie. When she left the following morning I watched her walk away. That cloak of long black hair, the way she swung her hips, her long shapely legs, oh boy. Better than looking at concrete paving when you were twenty, similar effect though. I could go back and see her again some time but why would I want to do that. You find yourself falling over girls like this in Bangkok if you don’t watch where you’re going.

Then, the other week, there was Boo. I’d seen her a few times before.

When I was a youth in Farangland, I would categorise women into three classes. The not so pretty ones would be fairly easy to seduce, the good-looking girls needed a bit of effort and the crackers where just too damned difficult. There’s none of that nonsense here in Thailand. If you see a cracker and you have to have her, you just smile and flash a little cash. If anyone tells me this didn’t work for them, I’ll show you someone who’ll never get laid.

Boo was in the ‘cracker’ category. When I treated her to my cheekiest grin and showed her the contents of my wallet she became putty in my hands. Or was that I became…anyway, it just doesn’t matter. Result, two satisfied adults, account settled…NEXT!

It may have been muted recently on various Thailand websites, certainly this one, that the nightlife and the girls are not quite what they once were in the LOS. Stick recently suggesting that Pattaya, although quiet, is still more fun than Bangkok. Maybe that’s so and maybe it’s not. All I know is the women in Thailand are as pretty and as plentiful as they’ve always been while the numbers of farang guys out there seems to be diminishing. Maybe, the political correctness we hear so much about in Farangland is starting to have an effect on the sexual behaviour of the great white male. Are Farang men staying married these days or just staying at home? Are they starting to believe that crap that women should not be taken advantage of? Are they being brainwashed or are they just too damned fussy? Who knows?

Until you visit Thailand, I can honestly say ‘You really don’t know what you are missing’. If you are a frequent visitor or a resident, you will know full well what I’m talking about. If you have only visited once or twice you will probably have some idea but will have yet to fulfill your potential.

So people talk. Usually it’s the handsome young studs and the feminists. They see the fat, bald farang walking down Sukhumvit Road with a little Thai sexpot who is half his age. Sod ‘em. Enjoy it man, you’re on the downside of the hill and you’re a long time dead. Anybody with any disparaging comments are just people who have not yet come to terms with the basic dynamics of life on this planet. Those being, you are born, you get old, then you die. It’s what you choose to do with the middle bit that matters. That’s all that matters.

Devote yourself to the service of some higher entity if you like. Devote yourself to making and collecting heaps of money if you like. Me, I choose to devote myself to the study of the female form. It’s unlikely that I will be able to shag every Asian woman that I ever fancied but I’m giving it my best shot.

I could talk at length about Nit from Ramkamhaeng who delivers so that it almost leaves even me speechless. Or Geaw from Surin who is married to a Swiss gentleman. He sends her money every month but you can’t send an orgasm by telegraphic transfer. She gets hers from The Union Hill.

Then there’s Dar, who is quite simply one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. She has no hang ups about her own sexuality or my need to exploit it. Our relationship gives us both what we need. She gets money and I get some of the raunchiest sex you can imagine. This is the Thailand I know and love.

So who’s got it wrong? You tell me.


Stickman's thoughts:

I think one of the most relevant points that many in the West who have not experienced it first hand don't realise is that the girls are there voluntarily.