Stickman Readers' Submissions October 29th, 2007

Fresh Fish In Pattaya

It was three in the afternoon. I like sex in the afternoon. I walked into the bar. The first barstool is visible as you pull the black curtain back. There was a 60-something Brit on the barstool drinking a beer while two ladies had their heads buried in his lap. I smiled and said, “Cheers mate.”

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He returned the greeting and lit a cigarette while whacking the lady in the black dress on the butt. She squealed and began to make obviously phoney sounds of passion. The three of them began to make the same sounds. The sounds the English fellow was making were rather high pitched. I wondered if he was in the right place.

A ladyboy walked out of the back room with a biker gait until he saw there were customers in the bar and then started to prance around. She was a big fellow. Good thing she was the only ladyboy in the bar.

There were eight women working in the dim club at that early hour. Seven out of eight knew me by name. It got me to thinking perhaps it was time for me to morally evaluate my lifestyle in Pattaya.

I sat down and ordered a Coke Lite. I know there is no such thing as a Coke Lite but that seems to work better than ordering a Diet Coke. It was like the German guy sitting next to me today at the food counter at Foodland. He was trying very hard to order carrot juice instead or orange juice. The waiter and waitress and manager were all trying to tell him he wanted orange juice. In his exasperation he turned to me and asked me if I knew how to say carrot in Thai. I told the waitress, “Callot juice.” She repeated with a big smile of relief, “Why man no say callot juice?” He, of course looked at me like I was an idiot but he got his carrot juice.

While drinking my Diet Coke two ladies with their two spent wankers came walking down the stairs. They greeted me, “Hello Chiang Mai.” You see, the guys were done and the ladies felt free to greet old friends after the deed knowing the guys are too tired to complain.

I like fresh fish. I normally never eat a fish unless I see it alive or at least smell it before it is cooked. It is the same reason I don’t pick up girls on Beach Road. They get all bent out of shape if you ask them to smell it right there on the sidewalk. This is rarely a problem at the beer bars or gogos that I frequent.

Frankly, I think the Thai authorities should be more tolerant in this area. The cops never complain if you smell a fish at a market. Perhaps it is why Thai men so infrequently engage in oral sex with women.

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As I drank my Coke I realized my odds were getting slimmer of getting a fresh one.

One of the girls with the Brit announced loudly, “I go pee.” I don’t know why she told the bar that news but who knows, maybe the Hell Club action is catching on. Given a choice of bodily fluids, pee doesn’t seem like such a dangerous alternative. I haven’t heard many stories of urine transmitted diseases. The old gentleman with the dexterity of a much younger man de pants his remaining lady and flipped her over and skewered her on his lap and was bouncing her up and down while he continued to drink his beer.

If Pattaya ever has an Olympics they should be sure to include an “intercourse while drinking beer event.” Although not many fellows living here engage in that behaviour because they realize there is time for both. I can understand why some vacationers would try and combine both activities to get the most bang for the buck so to speak.

Pee girl came back and offered her butt to the elderly beer drinker so as not to miss out on a fee. He did have to put out his cigarette to engage her but he made do.

As I was contemplating my choices three French men walked in. I didn’t know they were French but one of the ladies informed me, “Fra lan cet.” Someone should put up a sign that reads, “Will smelly Farang please take shower and stop wearing those odor catching polyester football shirts and shorts.”

Two of the French guys sat on the couches and the third took a seat opposite them at the bar. The guy at the bar was real ugly. One of those guys that must come to Pattaya to get laid. Normally I feel sorry for them but his complexion was so bad that when he smiled his pimples popped. Ugliness is forgivable but there had to be something he could have done about his skin condition. Luckily for him this did not bother the girls. His nylon stinky shorts were around his knees in no time. Not to be outdone his two mates ripped off their striped football shorts and were set upon by two tanned Isaan female vampires sucking for all they were worth. Actually what they were worth I don’t know. What they cost was 500 baht.

Adding up my totals minus the ladyboy I realized there was nothing fresh left in the bar.

It was quiet for a while except for animal sounds. Kind of like a 7 Eleven with a sale on slurpies or a bunch of loud puppies nursing. Then as if by magic everyone started talking almost at the same time. The girls started laughing and drinking their lady drinks. Nobody got up to spit. Nobody grabbed a bottle of Listerine. I paid my bill and walked out on to the street. I was feeling let down. Pattayaed out.

Season is here. The Japanese are Japping and the Russian tourists are competing with the ladyboys for the least clothes worn on beach road. Princess has made 30,000 baht in the past ten days and for that old broad that has to be the 7th wonder of the known world.

There is a new crop of tender hearted maidens on Soi 6 fresh from up country averaging four shorts a day and everything bodes well for the water buffalo merchants.

Stickman's thoughts:

Fresh and Pattaya? Is it possible to put those two words in the same sentence?

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