Another Night Out On The Mean Streets Of Bangkok
I've heard it said by some that after living in Thailand for a while the bars, the girls and the whole nightlife scene gets a bit stale and boring.
Well gentle readers, personally speaking I am not ready to sign up to the Bangkok Pipe and Slippers Club just yet.
I would like to recount the events of a recent evening out on the town, last Wednesday evening to be precise when the Bangkok entertainment scene served up one of those nights you can only get in Thailand.
Things started off tamely enough but I had mischief in mind from the outset. Here's a blow by blow, so to speak…
I had been to see a business contact in Silom in the morning with a view to patching up my flagging career. Once that meeting was over I found myself in The Irish Exchange sipping a pint of Speckled Hen and flicking through the jobs pages
of the Bangkok Post. Not surprisingly, nothing quite measured up to my considerable talents so I drained my glass and decided that I would devote the rest of the day to cheering myself up. I wondered over to The Crown Royal, which is not the rockingest
joint in town but at least it is open in the afternoons.
I had been in the Crown Royal not more than two minutes when my mate Phil called to say he was making his way to Sukhumvit Soi 7/1 for a few sherbets and would I like to join him. Phil is also a long time resident of Bangkok, now in his retirement
years. Phil seems to have two priorities in life. One is to sniff out the cheapest beer and the other is to ogle the most naked women in the metropolis. Not a bad friend to have when your funding is under pressure. I scuttled along to Soi 7/1
to meet him.
We had a couple of beers in the Boo Sar Bar and I wolfed down a plate of fried rice as well. I just realized that I hadn't eaten since Tuesday lunchtime and I was bloody starving.
The owner of the bar regaled us with a story about one of his customers who ran up a bar bill of 43,000 baht the other day so he gave him a 6,000 baht discount and a free bar fine. I remember thinking that this punter must have been some
kind of maniac. 43,000 baht would get you five hundred and thirty eight bottles of Heineken at the Boo Sar Bar's happy hour prices. I also recounted that it took me almost four days to spend that much last week and that included copious amounts
of beer, six different women and two tours of duty in The Eden Club.
Anyway, I was getting in the mood now so Phil and I beat a path to Soi Cowboy. It was still a bit early but we knew of at least a couple of places that would be open.
We dived into one of the seedier establishments and ordered a Tiger beer for 60 baht each. The girls hadn't started dancing yet and we were the first punters of the evening. I took a swig of my beer and almost gagged. I was pretty sure
this was not Tiger. I pulled the bottle out of that polystyrene condom to check. It was a brown Tiger bottle alright but there was no label on it. I shrugged, pushed it back in and took another pull. It tasted like disinfectant but hey, I'm
Welsh. I can drink anything. Phil had said nothing up to this point so I guessed his must have tasted OK.
After I had drunk about half the contents and it was still tasting no better, I mentioned to Phil that I suspected this might not be Tiger Beer. Phil took another sip of his own and inspected the bottle. The same brown bottle with no label
but now Phil concurred that whatever this was, it tasted like bats' piss.
Now Phil is not a man to take this kind of thing lightly so he proceeded to inform the staff that whatever he had been served was not what he ordered and he demanded a replacement beer forthwith. The service girls could not understand what
the fuss was all about (to them it was only 60 baht and everyone knows that farangs have a lot of money) but eventually they capitulated and supplied Phil with a new bottle of beer…..and another 60 baht bill. The girls obviously didn't
know who they were dealing with here. Phil picked up the new 60 baht bill, threw it back at the hapless waitress and demanded to see someone in authority. Fortunately for all of us, the boss was not in at that moment.
By another stroke of good fortune, The Dollhouse was open by now so we handed over 60 baht each and left. At least in The Dollhouse they serve bats' piss, charge for bats' piss and everyone knows it's bats' piss. Much
fairer all round. Also, the girls are naked from the opening moment and quite prepared to jump all over you if you let them. I, for one was prepared to let them.
Baa is what Phil calls my Dollhouse 'blocker'. I have bar fined Baa a few times and now of course, I am her personal property. There is no possibility that any other Dollhouse doll is going to do anything remotely naughty with me
while Baa is working at the Dollhouse. As soon as I walk in and sit down, Baa appears almost immediately and sits on my lap, protecting her investment so to speak. To be fair, it's not a bad thing.
What is a bad thing however, is allowing white women into go-go bars. I cannot for the life of me see why a white woman would want to visit a go-go bar. OK, lesbians might get some kind of off but really, this is man country. It just is.
The next thing, a group of Australians walked in. Three blokes and three women, all in the fifty to sixty years of age bracket. The blokes were looking a little sheepish, the women were trying to maintain a "we've seen it all before"
look of worldliness about them. The group was directed to a bench seat, next to me.
As an aside, when you see a middle aged farang woman standing next to a scantily clad Thai go-go dancer, if you were from the planet Zob you might not believe these two animals were the same species, never mind the same gender!
Baa was sitting on my lap as the Australian group filed past to take their seats and as one of the women passed by her mask slipped for the briefest moment and I got that "you should be thoroughly ashamed of yourself" look that
I hadn't seen since my mother found a copy of Playboy under my bed when I was thirteen.
Well laugh. I had to smother my face in Baa's breasts to conceal my amusement.
The Dollhouse is OK but I wasn't really in the mood for too much Baa tonight so I told Phil I was away to The Long Gun. He had arranged to meet another friend of his at Rawhide, so we parted company.
I had a special reason for wanting to go to The Long Gun and her name is Pla. Pla is from Roi Et and doesn't speak much English which is fine with me. I hadn't seen her since last Saturday. She saw me immediately and walked over
to join me. She was dressed in a black cowboy hat and a pair of boots. Nothing else. I decided to forego the drinks and the witty repartee and paid her bar fine before she had a chance to sit down. Then we high tailed it to the Penny Black short
time hotel, next door. (Please excuse the Americanism, it must have been the cowboy hat).
By ten thirty that bit of excitement was over and I was back in the street. Baa claimed she was going home but she headed straight back to the Long Gun. She could probably get another trick or two in before the end of the night. I'm
so grateful I don't fall in love with these girls for more than a few minutes at a time.
I wandered off up the road not sure what I was looking for but pretty sure I'd know it when I saw it.
The thought of going home crossed my mind for the briefest of moments but I came to my senses just as I walked passed Baccara. I don't know anybody who works there so I went in for an unhindered drink. After the exertions of the last
couple of hours I was in fairly desperate need of some re-hydration.
As I sat there getting a stiff neck (for the uninitiated, Baccara has a glass ceiling with girls dancing upstairs in the buff) I was joined presently by one of the hostess girls. They are the ones in the black dresses. She introduced herself
as Beer, the irony of which was not lost on me. Did I really need another Beer? I mused.
Beer was having a difficult time at Baccara, she informed me. She was a tall, chunky girl with a strikingly pretty face but her size and shape was not best suited to the tastes of the predominantly Japanese clientele at Baccara. They prefer
their girls small and girly looking. Beer was unmistakably all woman and in the three weeks she had worked there, she had only been bar fined once by a German. Maybe she thought I was a German, people sometimes do before I speak. Tonight, however
I didn't feel like invading Poland so I finished up my beer and left Beer where she found me.
One of my main problems is that I never know quite when to quit, and although I had enjoyed the evening so far I was still not quite ready to call it a day and go home. One last drink at Sin on Soi 4 and then home, I promised myself.
A few minutes later I was standing in the Rajah car park looking up to see if there was any action going on at Sin. Hard to tell from there but the place looked open and I could hear music coming off the rooftop location. I approached the
entrance, avoiding a taxi that was just pulling up at the foot of the stairs.
It was now about one o'clock in the morning and out of the taxi hopped a slightly tipsy Thai woman of about thirty, unescorted and cradling a bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label. Apart from her obvious state of inebriation, her other
most striking feature was her chest. It took me a second or two to re-adjust my gaze from her breasts to her face, so striking were her assets.
I jokingly offered to help her scale the stairs to the Sin Bar which she accepted in the spirit intended. We arrived at the bar which was open but quiet. I bought my new friend a drink while I tried to gently figure out what I was dealing
with here. In truth, now four days later, I still don't know.
The drunk lady introduced herself as Ann. She had very long hair tied in a pony tail. Her face was attractive but maybe a little hard looking. Her breasts were magnificent but probably not the ones she was born with. She was tall with long
slender legs and she was wearing gold coloured high heeled sandals that were completely at odds with the rest of her rather demure appearance. She wore a skirt of respectable length and a low cut but presentable top. Practically put, you wouldn't
climb over her to get to me.
This woman confused the hell out of me. She was alone but she said she had come to meet a friend. The friend never arrived but I did speak to her on Ann's phone when Ann called her to ask what had happened to her.
Ann claimed to have a job working in a gem factory but she had the next four days off. I thought that was kind of strange. She lived alone in an apartment in Lat Phrao. The next thing I knew, she was inviting me to buy her something to eat
at a place she knew on Petchburi Road. Still transfixed by her breasts I agreed. It was late. Where was I going with this strange woman? Was she dangerous? I could feel myself being led by the dick (figuratively speaking). I let myself be led
Ann had recovered some of her composure in Sin. To be fair, she hadn't drunk any more alcohol while we were there and she looked in much better shape leaving than she did when she arrived.
We jumped into a taxi and Ann directed the driver to this place she knew on Petchburi Road. It was one of those street side restaurants where she seemed to be known. I couldn't figure her out at all. We ordered some food and Ann explained
that upstairs was a karaoke bar which was still open if I fancied it. To all intents and purposes it looked closed to me but when I strained my ears I could hear music floating down when the traffic noise subsided. I declined. Karaoke is for the
extremely drunk and the Japanese in my opinion and anyway, the place just did not look safe to me.
Ann had opened the bottle of Black Label now and we both had a glass full of Black soda in front of us as well as a plateful of seafood and fried rice. We ate and talked. I have no idea what we found to talk about but sit and talk we did
for more than an hour. A few times I felt like I was being played along. I felt flattered and slightly nervous and those breasts…….just what was this woman up to?
We finished the food and I declared that I had had enough to drink. The bill came and I paid the three hundred baht or so. Ann had the waitress take what was left of the Black Label into the restaurant. "Keep it for me" she said.
What was going on?
Now it was time to leave and I made an untypical but I believe, correct decision. Ann invited me to accompany her to her apartment in Lat Phrao. The inference being we could carry on getting to know each other in more intimate surroundings.
I took a last and lingering look at her chest and said "Thanks, but I really must get off home". I could hardly believe I heard myself say that but something was putting me off. I still don't know what it was for certain but if
you don't listen to anyone else, you must listen to your instincts.
Before I put Ann in a taxi she insisted on giving me her phone number and she needed mine. She promised to call me tomorrow. As the taxi pulled away she watched me from the backseat as if she was willing me to change my mind and hail the
taxi to stop again. I didn't.
I went home.