Nana Car Park: A Lot of Sex – Part 1
This FR is based on a late-night excursion in January, 2006.
An odd set of circumstances put me in a cab at 1.30 AM on a Monday morning, heading down Sukhumvit Road to the parking lot of the Nana Hotel. About seven hours earlier I had stretched out on my comfortable bed at the Town Lodge Hotel and turned on the TV to catch up with what was happening in the world. However, the effects of jet lag and two days of heavy partying BKK style caught up with me and I drifted off into much needed sleep.
Normally, I set things up for L/T companionship ahead of arriving in LOS, but fate had conspired against me this time. My long-time favorite, Gina, had recently quit the Eden Club and was doing escort. She said via email that a customer was taking her traveling for several weeks, so she was already booked except for one night of my BKK stay. She'd also emailed me she'd taken back her previous working name, Gaow (aka Mistress Gaow) and I had been tempted to greet her with a hearty "How now, brown Gaow!" when I met up with her at GLOW on the previous Saturday night, but I kept that quip to myself. We had a tremendous session and a lot of fun reminiscing about old times, but I wouldn't be able to see her beyond that night. (Note: Gina recently returned to the Eden Club.)
I could also only get one night with another of my Eden favorites because she was going "on holiday," so I had to think of alternatives. My plan for the evening had been to spend a few hours in TOXIC at the TL and possibly barfine one of the very attractive young ladies had the chemistry proved right. A visit to the Eden Club and making new acquaintances there was my back-up plan. But by 1.00 AM, both TOXIC and Eden were closed, so I showered quickly and set out for that never-fail option, the Nana Hotel.
If lower Sukhumvit Road is the Mecca of mongering, then the parking lot of the Nana Hotel is the Kaaba, the holiest of holies, the place to which every true monger is bound to make a pilgrimage once in his lifetime. I prefer to do my hobbying under more organized circumstances and have never actually taken a lady from the Nana Car Park itself. But it's always an entertaining place to visit, sort of people watching gone bizarre. It's the entire Thailand P4P experience – the good and the bad – stripped of any pretense and reduced to its barest.
Traffic was thick on Sukhumvit Road and I jumped out of the cab about even with the Landmark Hotel. I immediately encountered three totally sloshed young men, two of whom were supporting the third. They didn't look old enough to have been legally served at any bar in Europe or North America, but obviously hadn't met with such problems in BKK. The least intoxicated of the trio asked me where Sukhumvit Road was. I stood well clear of them, as the semi-comatose one looked like he'd projectile vomit at any second. Tender Thai temptresses, not tipsy teenage tossers, were my concern, so I pointed them in the direction from which I'd just come and moved past them. They were in any case beyond comprehending the spoken word and stumbled off in a drunkard's version of a three-legged race.
I hadn't even gotten to the corner of Soi 4 and already the sidewalk was packed with punters and providers. The night was very humid and the air was still. The essence of wet pussy – well lubricated of course – is so palpable over the lower Suk that it almost sticks to your skin. Hundreds are buying, hundreds are selling, and everything for blocks around is driven by that simple equation.
As I turn into Soi 4, I see an elephant in the street about level with the entrance to Nana Car Park. A drunk middle-aged farang, jumbo-sized himself, is trying to hug the elephant around the neck while his buddies take pictures. That's pretty standard LOS tourist fare, but then he begins to nuzzle and lick the elephant's ear, an image I could have lived without. I dodge taxis and tuk-tuks to cross the street to avoid a closer encounter. I was a bit afraid that one nig ht the noise and confusion would become too much for the poor beast and it would lash out at anyone nearby. With its size and weight, it could do considerable damage should it get out of control. I'm talking about the farang now – the elephant was enduring the whole thing with Buddha-like calm.
The street and sidewalks, as well as the bars dotting Soi 4, are jammed with people. Young, old, Thai, farang, beautiful, hideous, drunk, sober and drugged, the standard LOS mix. I fend off the three or four ladyboys lined up beside the entrance to the car park. Girls are standing shoulder to shoulder on the steps of Golden Bar outside the hotel, but the scene in the lot is thinner. Some very attractive ladies are plying their trade, obviously NEP bar girls who haven't hooked up earlier or are back for another round. At that point I'm feeling more peckish than peckerish, so I passed up all the inviting looks and "hello, sir" greetings. I stepped into the Nana Coffee Shop for a bite to eat and a few minutes of relief from the heat, pollution and intensity of the scene outside.
But before sitting down, I checked out the lobby area. Like on earlier occasions, I noticed several quite elderly gentlemen sitting in the armchairs near the reception desk. I've often wanted to talk with these patriarchs of the punter tribe, but can never figure out a way to strike up a conversation. I also have mixed feelings every time I see them. If I make it to 80 years of age – an outside chance at best – I certainly hope I have somewhere better to be at 2.00 AM in the morning than the lobby of the Nana Hotel. On the other hand, it sure the hell beats 9.00 PM mandatory bedtime at a retirement home in Miami or on Long Island. So all power to you, gentlemen, and a very respectful tip of the evil pen.
I went back to the coffee shop and took a seat at a table by the window from which I can watch the merry goings-on outside. A few Indian guys were more or less chasing girls up and down the lot. They weren't having much luck – the girls were all moving away as fast as they could – but the guys were nevertheless smiling and appeared to be enjoying themselves. In the nightly pussy pursuit along the Suk, the Indian punters are pretty much naan-starters.
I did hear of one TG who became enamored of a good-looking, wealthy young Indian man and wanted to marry him, but didn't like performing oral sex on him because his hygiene was so poor. From his side, he wouldn't consider a long-term relationship, much less marriage, if it didn't include blowjobs. The TG realized how difficult it would be to have her kaek and eat it too.
But the Indian guys and the Methuselahs of mongering in the lobby weren't the only Nana examples of hope beating eternal in the human breast. A young spinner BG, dressed in a belly shirt and shorts, suddenly appeared directly outside the window where I was sitting, surveyed the lot, then sat on the curb. She proceeded to pull from her handbag a pair of glasses with the biggest and thickest lenses I've ever seen and began reading a book. The illustration on the cover indicated it was a romance novel of some kind. The parking lot at Nana has to be one of the least romantic places in Thailand, if not the world, but here she was, seeking at least a few moments of escape from the bump and rind of the NEP life. No doubt a farang, probably twice her age and three times her weight, would soon be contracting for her services, but until then, she could dream of a love affair the likes of which she'd never experience for real.
On that depressing note, I finished my plate of noodles, called my check and settled my bill. When I looked out the window again, the spinner was gone. As I was taking the last sips of my beer, I noticed one of those guys who give mongers a bad name, which takes a bit of doing in the Nana Car Park. He was Caucasian, but I have no idea where he was from.
He approached the girls as though he were judging cattle at a state fair. He looked them over from tip to toe, his eyes lingering on their breasts and groins. He felt the girls' asses to see if they were firm enough and tried to lift their blouses, apparently in search of stretch marks. I couldn't hear anything that was going on, but I imagined he wasn't offering to pay generously. Most agreements are reached quickly in the Nana lot, but this guy was talking at length with the girls one by one and they would, in turn, shake their heads “no.”
It was obvious the girls, especially the cuter ones towards the center of the lot, were peeved by this jerk's behavior. I'm sure he thought he was being very clever and was determined not to be cheated by any BG, but he gave across as the worst kind of fool. Behavior that's appropriate inside a gogo bar isn't acceptable outside when dozens of people are watching. I kept hoping one of the girls would slap him, but that's not their way. They just backed off and kept him at bay with words or gestures.
I decided to exit Nana and look elsewhere for after-hours action – it's not hard to find girls on the lower Suk any time after 8.00 PM until at least 6.00 AM. While the focus of activity remains the Nana Car Park and outlying beer bars, the wee-hours commerce and spills over with a vengeance all up and down Sukhumvit Road between Soi 1 and Soi 33. Bangkok is often likened to a sexual theme park, with rides and attractions for everyone. The budget-minded as well as the big spenders can find something to suit their tastes. Street vendors and fold-up sidewalk eateries do a roaring business, but it's the sale of tail that holds the whole (and hole) thing together.
Part 2 to Follow
A nicely written piece and I must confess I am looking forward to part 2!