Incountry #23

The midsection of Soi 6 is the dangerous part. It is the ladyboy bar section. You can also exit to the small street next to it for some bargain hunting. I have had ridiculously low prices offered late at night in closet sized bathrooms and
bedrooms that look like a small packing crate.

Why I have not been killed while doing this is anybody’s guess but I would not recommend for any but the brave and foolhardy among Stick readers.

This is the section where you don’t want to wear your “I love Dana” tee shirt. Or, if you are adventurous try walking this part of the Soi and yell to an imaginary friend, “Hey Dana, glad to see you buddy”
and watch the bars empty out with 100 sex starved ladyboys eagerly searching the street in every direction.

After the mid section and before the King Kong there are a number of bars with the same theme. Girls outside, inside for a beer and groping and then short time upstairs for about 700 baht or less depending on their mood, number of stretch
marks or your skill. Watch yourself here. Soi 6 is where the real Pattaya pros play. The ladies range from completely inexperienced, under aged, recent arrivals to yaba crazed 50 year old knife carrying red hot mommas. Anything is possible
on Soi 6.

As I walked the gauntlet of pussy power I was feeling a little lonely. I really missed Princess. It, after all, had been two years living together. Most of the first year was good. One can’t live with a person for two years without
missing them a little.

It is like “My Fair Lady”, I had grown accustomed to her face. I had grown used to her smell and likes and dislikes, her moods and all the little things that made her a unique person.

What should I have noticed that I didn’t?

I went to University to try and learn Thai. She did not want to learn any more English than she already knew. She did not want me to learn any more Thai than I already knew.

I learned how to cook things she liked. Of course I am probably not a normal guy but I am a professional and experienced cook.

She did not want to learn anything about Western cooking methods. She could not understand and did not want to understand even the basics of kitchen sanitation. She had worked at a number of normal jobs. The only jobs she considered worthwhile
were connected to prostitution.

Lying was part and parcel of her lifestyle. She lied when there was no reason to lie. The truth was something entirely foreign to her.

If you have a lady in Thailand and you do not have a land line in her house you are a complete nutcase.

She never called me tee luck. She called me Pa. Never Kelly. It reminds me of that country song. Please don’t call me darling, darling.

I have known a lot of alcoholics. My third wife who downed a pint of tequila every day and Princess were a perfect match. One can trust alcoholics. One can trust alcoholics to mess up. To lie, to cheat and steal.

She sold all of the gold I had bought her. She squandered all the cash I gave her.

She even pawned the watch I bought her. The watch was hard for me. I know how much she liked it. I know how much pride she took in wearing it and telling people I bought it for her. I guess the watch was the last straw.

Her parting took a long time. There was the melting part. She would start to cry and then melt into a little puddle on the floor. She would slide down like a candle in hot weather ending up as a mass of wax on the bottom. Sobbing, “If
you need lady take care you, you call me, I come anywhere any time.”

Then there was the high heel off, held in right hand trying to bash in my head. There was also the three days in the wat, I will change thing.

I guess the most telling parting line was the, “When we Chiang Mai I happy, I need money I have money, I have one, two hundred baht every day, I always have money.”

In Pattaya she spent everything she earned or I gave her on Ya Dong (herb rice whiskey), boyfriends and Thai leech friends.

Her daughter called me and told me Princess was in the Wat with no money for food. Her daughter arrived at my apartment at 8 AM in the shortest of shorts and briefest of tops to plead for her mother.

Any reasonable person knows that one does not need money for food in the Wat but I gave her 700 baht to take to Princess anyway. Daughter headed promptly to her nearest Thai bar and bought drinks for her Thai boyfriend and never
made it to the Wat.

Princess called me up sobbing that her daughter had never come and the Wat in Pattaya was not like the Wat in Chiang Mai, here they got her up at 5 AM and wanted her to work 12 hours a day..

Back to the storyline.

Every time I go into the King Kong I think it is going downhill. Or perhaps it is me going down hill. I have fallen in love in the Kong. I have lusted in the Kong. I have been ripped off in the Kong and I have had free sex in the Kong.

One of the things about speaking a little Thai and not a lot of Thai is it can sometimes get you in more trouble than speaking no Thai at all.

There was the lady that took me into the toilet at the Kong, stripped, bent over the commode and opened an umbrella and asked, “what now boss?” This was a result of me saying something perfectly reasonable to me but she misunderstood
my accent a little.

Not to paint to dreary a picture of the Kong there are many cultural events there. There is Greek culture, Roman culture and French culture just to name a few.

And for those sportsmen there are also water sports available at the Kong.

That night as I walked by I was greeted by shouts of, “Kelly, ow gin chee” so I walked in.

A German couple was sitting on a couch across from the bar. The rather rotund frau was chatting pleasantly away to her husband next to an English couple. The English couple I had seen before but hadn’t figured out their trip.
Normally the male half was accompanied by a ladyboy. As there are a couple of ladyboys employed at the Kong in addition to the women I sat down to await the evenings events.

King Kong is 700 baht if you get a room or don’t get a room. 500 for the lady and 200 for the room or bar stool. It always seems a little odd to me to price a room is the same as a bar stool but the King Kong is a perfect example of
absolutely no marketing talent or Thai marketing talent which amounts to about the same thing.

As a result of my porn experience I am an exhibitionist and a voyeur which makes the Kong almost a perfect place for me.

Since it seemed like the German or English couple were not going to start the show I decide to get Pook and Puk to give it a try. A hundred baht gets them stripped and ready for action as I position one above and one below. Out come the mandatory
moist towels and I am cleaned and ready to go. I begin wailing to make sure both couples are watching and start my best imitation of Ron Jeremy.

To make sure everyone gets a good view I begin to move around the bar which is not easy with two females attached to different parts of my anatomy.

It looks like the I am really beginning to disgust the German lady so that is where I focus my attention ordering another beer and lighting a cigarette to demonstrate my dexterity under pressure.

Pook and Puk work very well as a team and in no time I as screaming and grunting and moaning.

This has motivated a Middle Eastern gentleman and he has his equipment deep inside a ladyboy who is exhibiting a rather large member himself.

In a show of cross cultural generosity I hire an Isaan maiden to orally assist the ladyboy. This is, of course my part of my commitment to stop terrorism.

The sight of this has aroused a young English bloke who claims to be going for a new record and this is his fourth time this evening.

In a crescendo worthy of a Wagnerian opera the evenings activities are consummated and the couch is cleaned up after the German lady.

The evening is at an end and I start my lonely ride home to begin the winter of my discontent.

Actually it is the spring of my discontent but that sounds like to much like a mattress ad.

Stickman's thoughts:

Only in Soi 6.