A Blast From The Past
Siam’s gonna be witness to ultimate test of cerebral fitness
This grips me more than would a muddy old river or reclining Buddha
Ahh Bollocks to that; just bring on the dancing girls.
It had been a while. I looked out through the cabin window into the humidity haze, of another steamy Bangkok afternoon, as we made the approach into Don Muang. It was good to back after being away for nearly four months. The head was still throbbing after the session I’d had the night before and the night before had only just finished earlier today.
Nearly one hundred days straight on an offshore construction barge and then let loose in Singapore for the night. Singapore ain't Bangkok but it’s got its own miniature version of the City of Angels; Orchard Towers. Also known as the four floors of whores, it’s been catering to cashed up, horny oil field workers for the past twenty years and last night was no exception. After checking into the York Hotel, three of us made a bee line to the legendary Towers. The first timer, to this part of the world, which we had with us didn’t know where to keep his eyes focused after we sat him down in the Crazy Horse Bar. Young Stevie was lapping it up as the tall, silicone enhanced, white skinned, Thai transsexuals fussed all over him for a good hour, or so, before we finally gave him the bad news.
“They’re blokes mate” I said with a sly smile.
“No, no. They can’t be” said Stevie looking a bit shattered.
“Sorry to burst the bubble mate, but they are” said Paul backing me up.
It was a hell of a let-down for poor young Stevie but I’m sure he saw the humor in it as we sat there downing Heinekens and enjoying the craziness of the venue. When we eventually made our move to the Ipanema Bar, Stevie, against our better judgment, decided that he was quite happy to continue to mix it up with the Katoeys. After another six beers too many I vaguely remember dragging a bird back to the hotel with me. What became of Stevie I have no idea but one of the boys reckoned he saw Stevie sneaking off, in the wee hours of the morning, with one of his new found friends from the Crazy Horse Bar. The only thing I do remember clearly was that I locked myself out of the hotel room, stark bollocks naked and busting for a piss. Thinking that I was making my way to the toilet, I closed the door behind me only to realize, too late, that I was standing out in the hall way. What do you do? Improvise, that’s what. The upright stainless ash tray, next to the lift, became a makeshift urinal. Thankfully there were no security cameras around as I gratefully relieved my bladder into that conveniently placed receptacle.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the plane's landing gear being set in place. It wouldn’t be too long before I was working my way through the chaos of the arrivals hall to get a taxi. I was in two minds; go directly to Pattaya or hang out in Bangers for a while? Bangers got the nod; for the next few days at least. Since moving up to Pattaya, from Phuket a couple of years earlier, I’d gone ballistic; it had been a whirlwind of gogo bars, soapy massage parlors, threesomes and short times. I was starting think that the runaway train I’d been riding wasn’t showing any signs slowing down all that much.
I’d made a reservation at the Nana Hotel, on Sukhumvit Soi 4, and was hoping that the taxi ride wouldn’t turn into the nightmare marathon I’d run into last time; I got caught up in the mid afternoon traffic of a scorching Bangkok day in late April. It’s Murphy’s Law of course; the hotter the day, and more congested the traffic, the greater your chances of getting into a taxi that’s going to break down. And, that’s exactly what happened. It took nearly three hours for me to get from Don Muang to the cool comfort of the Nana. Rule number one when getting a metered taxi, at the airport, is never get into one that looks old.
The ride over was uneventful and, in just under ninety minutes, I was sitting in the air-conditioned respite of my deluxe room at the Nana. A quick shower and change of clothes and I was down in the hotel's coffee lounge planning my assault on the fleshpots of Bangkok. Today was my birthday and a Bangkok sandwich was in order; my first stop would be the J-One body massage center. I slurped my coffee and looked out, from my window table, into the hotel's parking lot. There were a few freelancers out there already, in the mid afternoon heat, trawling for their first short time for the day. One of them caught my eye and smiled. There was an invitation of interest in the smile but nothing more as I nodded and looked away. What was out there would only get better as the daylight receded into the darkness of another Bangkok night.
After an hour spent battling through the late afternoon congestion of the roadways of Bangkok, the taxi finally arrived in the car park of J-One. I’d dozed off during the trip and was feeling quite groggy as I climbed out and got my bearings. The car park had a number of seriously expensive vehicles; Mercs and Beemers being predominant. I’d heard a rumor that this place was a bit of a hangout for wealthy Thai blokes.
I walked towards the entrance and had a bit of a chuckle again about the construction, or appearance, of the ubiquitous Thai body massage center. These buildings can be seen in the popular tourist centers of Bangkok, Pattaya and Phuket and are a unique design in that there are no windows on the outer walls of the structure. I went through the entrance and was greeted by a young Thai male dressed smartly in a business suit. He spoke reasonable English and his job function was probably a combination of doorman, host and waiter. Directly in front of me was a large open lobby area; the dividing point between the ‘fish bowl’ and the seating area for the clientele. There were a few punters already enjoying a bevy and ogling the flesh in the fish bowl. I sat down in a large comfortable lounge chair and ordered a ‘Lippo’ with ice.
To add to the mood of the moment, the lighting over the seating area was dimmed while the lighting in the fishbowl was turned up to enhance the features of the ladies on offer. The ladies, mainly of the fair skinned variety, sat on tiered rows behind a floor to ceiling plate glass window running the length of the lobby area. I casually turned and glanced at the punters behind me; they were all Asian. This confirmed the observation I’d made earlier on seeing the vehicles parked outside.
The waiter placed my drink in front of me and I went back to observing the flesh on offer. It was early evening which meant that there were still plenty to choose from. The majority of them were reasonably attractive and generally in the twenty to thirty age group. Because most of these body massage places cater predominantly to the local, and International Asian clientele, the ladies on offer were, as I noted earlier, of the fair skinned type and normally from Chiang Mai. Over the years, of being in Thailand, I’d come to understand that there was a marked difference between the ladies that catered to the Asian clientele and type that worked the farang dominated tourist areas such as Pattaya, Nana and Cowboy. Dark skinned girls from the North East were definitely not attractive to the Asian punters.
I took another gulp of my Lippo and continued to survey the flesh in the fish bowl. There were two sitting together that had caught my eye and I was fairly sure they knew I was interested because they were smiling and waving at me. I called the host fellow over and asked him if either of the two had children. He replied that they didn’t and went on to further inform me that they were both very good at their jobs. Whether or not that was true, there was no telling until you actually started doing the business. However, one of them had that intensity in the eyes that I so often look for when deciding if a bird will be a good shag or not. I’ve always maintained that it’s got a lot to do with energy levels. Some birds are just genetically fitter than others. If a girl has eyes which give her a look of being half asleep all the time then there’s a reasonably good chance that she’ll be exactly that way in the sack. The one I was looking at, number twenty seven, had fire in her eyes. I would just about guarantee she’d be a good shag.
“How much for two ladies?”
“What numbers?” the host said.
“Twenty seven and forty one”
“Five thousand baht for ninety minutes”
Five thousand baht seemed like a reasonably good price. I slipped him five hundred baht tip and nodded in agreement. He called out to the cashier at the service desk who then spoke into the microphone.
Immediately the two girls I’d selected stood up smiling and made their way to the exit at the back of the fish bowl. I walked over to the service desk and dropped the five grand onto the counter. The two ladies I’d chosen sidled up to me and introductions were made. A close up inspection confirmed I’d made a good choice. They were both tall with fit bodies. The one with the fire in the eyes was smiling and latched on to my right arm.
As we walked towards the lift she looked straight into my eyes and said “I feeling horny mak maak”.
I knew this was going to be good. As the lift door closed I was already starting to get an erection. There was no mucking around with this bird. She saw my erection and immediately started rubbing it with her hand. The other one started giggling and said “farang horny duay”.
The lift arrived on the second floor. We stepped out and the girls said something to one of the room cleaners. A room key and a basket containing an assortment of plastic bottles were handed over. As we walked down the corridor the girls asked if they could have a drink. I was trying to sober up a little bit but thought ‘what the heck’ we may as well turn it into a bit of a party so I ordered a round of gin and tonics.
The girls found the room and the door was still open. No doubt it had just been cleaned up after the last punter's session. We entered and closed the door. On the immediate right was a large bed in a glassed off partition of the room. On the other side of the partition, and built into the far right corner of the room, was a large bath. Number forty one, whose name was actually Lek, opened the taps and started to fill the tub. I’d worked out already that Lek was going to play the supporting role. The one with the fire in the eyes, Nam, was playing the lead part and I figured was going to be the recipient of a bloody good rogering today. In the flat tiled area, directly in front of me, was an inflated air mattress. I sat down on the edge of the bed and Nam removed my shoes and socks. I stood up and she unbuttoned my jeans. As she slid my jeans and jocks down my raging hard on jumped out and she grabbed it with one hand and smiled. For a moment I thought she was going to wrap her laughing gear around it but she smiled again and said, in a professional tone, “apnam gon ka”.
I nodded as I knew the drill. I’ve got no doubt that Thai ‘working girls’ are the world's most hygienic. There’s never been a time when, employing the services of these beautiful ladies, that I haven’t had to get scrubbed up before doing the business. And, when I mean scrubbed up, I mean that quite literally. I’ve had some girls wash me from head to toe while seated on a stool in the shower recess.
I stepped out of my jeans and Nam passed me a towel. There was a knock on the door. Nam unlatched it and waitress stepped into the room carrying a tray with our drinks. I paid her off and, as Nam locked the door again, I grabbed a glass and sat back down on the bed. The bath was still filling so I told the girls to grab their drinks and sit with me. They both stripped off their working attire so I could get an eye full of their beautiful firm bodies. Nam was slightly darker than Lek but her skin had that silky smooth texture that the fair skinned ones seem to lack. They both had ample bosoms and their pussies were shaved completely. They both had nice firm, flat stomachs with not a sign of any pregnancy stretch marks. Lek got in position behind me and started to give me a neck massage while Nam removed my towel and started to play with my dick. Within seconds I was erect again. I took a slug of G and T and smiled the satisfied smile of a contented male in Asia. With the kind of intimate attention I was getting from Nam and Lek it was incredible to think that they were just doing a job. The reality was though, that’s exactly what it was. I knew it and had been around long enough to know that it was just a little fantasy world that they were playing out.
Lek finished massaging my neck, moved from the bed and turned off the bath taps. The tub was filled with steaming water. I took a final gulp of my G and T and smiled at Nam who had now progressed to rubbing her breasts against my back.
“Apnam ka” said Lek.
I lay down the tub and stretched out. It was three times the size of a normal household bath tub. Nam and Lek got in with me and started to wash me from head to toe. I shut my eyes and allowed myself to go into a state of relaxation. Every few seconds though Nam would grab my dick to make sure I didn’t get too relaxed. A few minutes later, after a thorough scrub down, I stepped out of the tub and stood still while Nam used one of the towels to dry me off. Lek then told me to lie down, face up, on the lilo. As I did, Nam grabbed one of the plastic bottles out of the basket. I asked her if it was oil but, as she began pouring it out over my body, she replied that it was warm gel. They both then went to work rubbing it over the entire length of my body. I was erect again. Nam smiled, lay on top and began to rhythmically slide up and down using her breasts and pussy to massage my body.
I leaned back, in the rear seat of the taxi, and swallowed the last of the bottle of Red Bull I’d picked up on the way out of J-Wan. I was feeling completely relaxed, and satisfied, after my ninety minute session with Nam and Lek. So much so that I knew I’d probably start to doze off during the ride back to the Nana. I was due to meet a buddy, who lived further down Soi 4, in an hour, or so, at the Nana for a couple of cold ones.
Although the Red Bull would help to pep me up, I’d already decided that a decent steak dinner would do a lot more to sustain the energy levels for our planned night out. I looked out the window as the taxi crawled down the road; the traffic was bumper to bumper. I sat back, closed my eyes and the song started again:
One night in Bangkok and the world’s your oyster
The bars are temples but the pearls ain’t free
You’ll find a God in every golden cloister
And if you’re lucky then the God’s a she
I can feel an angel sliding up to me
It must be ESP, or some internal warning device, that brings me around when I get anywhere near the intersection of Soi 4 and Sukhumvit. I checked my watch; it was nearly seven. The neon was on, the daylight had been engulfed by the encroaching darkness and the circus that tries so hard to imitate reality, on lower Sukhumvit, was cranking into life again. As we approached the corner I glanced down towards Soi 3 and remembered back to an earlier time. The first time I’d spent a few days in Bangkok I’d, for some bizarre reason, booked into the Grace Hotel. It must have been something to do with the stories I’d heard, from long ago, about the ‘fishbowl’ at the Grace that drew me to the place. Whatever; the heady days of post Vietnam were well and truly over and what I found there was hugely disappointing. There was a coffee lounge with a host of the plumpest working girls I’d ever seen, in one place, catering to the Arab invasion of the Grace. And then I spotted Tina; and she wasn’t plump. A long time professional for sure, and just starting to show the first signs of wear, she had the biggest set of natural tits I’d seen on a Thai girl. There was definitely something there because it was instant attraction between both of us. I ended up staying in her apartment down on Soi 11. I think she was eyeing me up as a long term prospect because she even took a few days off to look after me. In the end though, as good as it was in the sack, I had to call it a day. It was tough though because these birds have an unbelievable array of charms, and talents, to work their way into your soul. I still think about the tears she shed when I said I wasn’t coming back. Maybe it was an act; who knows. Many a man has wilted under that kind of emotional assault though and lived to regret their weakness later; the risks involved in a relationship with a hooker are sometimes too great. Still, I felt like a right bastard for a few days afterwards and the phone calls only stopped when I changed the SIM card.
The taxi pulled up at entrance to the hotel's lobby. The freelancer contingent in the car park was improving as the hours advanced into the night. Mark was sitting in the lobby area on one of those retro lounge sofas. In a bygone era this was probably the haunt of diplomats and spooks. Now, it was largely the domain of the over sixties, Viagra assisted brigade.
“Mate, you’re not old enough to be sitting there” I said.
We both laughed.
“Dude, it’s good to catch up with you” said Mark.
“Likewise, buddy. Are you up for a beer” I said.
‘Yeah, let’s grab a seat by the window over there” he said as we moved forward into the restaurant area.
“The best seat in the house” I said as we looked out into the car park to survey the meat market that was on display.
“It’s been a while dude” said Mark.
“Yeah, I think it was last Christmas if I remember rightly” I said thinking back.
“Yeah, I remember you’d just come back from Russia or somewhere like that” said Mark as the waiter handed us a couple of menus.
“Baku it was mate” I said with a smile.
“You been sucking the tits of any Russian birds in a bar lately?” said Mark smiling mischievously.
“No, thankfully” I said as I thought back to a wild night in a wild town on the edge of the Caspian Sea. What a man can get up to when he’s plastered, it’s 3 AM and a blonde, from Moscow, has her tits out, at the bar, is anyone’s guess.
“The wildest part about that night was the mad chase we got into with the local cops. It was like something out the communist days of Eastern Europe. Luckily the taxi driver was up to the task of hurling that battered bloody Lada through the narrow back streets in an effort shake the fuckers off. The girls, we had with us, said it was simply a matter of an out and out shake down. Those pricks were looking to scam a hundred bucks off us for no other reason than they could if they wanted to” I said shaking my head at their blatant greed
“Not much different to what happens around here then” said Mark wryly.
“No, not much, just more expensive over there that’s all” I said.
“You reckon” Mark countered.
“Yeah, one of the boys got a five thousand dollar fine, and a night in the lock up, for putting a brick through a car window” I said.
“Bit fucking silly I reckon. He was drunk no doubt” said Mark.
“That and the fact he was retaliating after being assaulted by a bunch of locals. The cops didn’t even take into account his side of the story; it was just another sorry assed, plastered foreigner to be scammed. Easy pickings for them and they know the companies’ will always front up with the massively over the top fine” I said as we ordered a couple of beers.
“Well dude, what’s the plan for tonight then?” said Mark as our beers landed on the table.
“Chill out here for a while, check out Rainbow 4, come back here to Angels disco. What have you got in mind?” I said taking a pull on my beer.
“Pretty much the same. Do you feel like going over the road to one of the beer bars”
“To be honest mate I can’t be bothered with that; if it’s not air conditioned, I’m not interested. And besides, I hate being pestered by those bloody hawkers” I said.
“Well yeah, they are a friggin pain but there are some cute babes in those bars from time to time” said Mark trying to raise my enthusiasm level for the open air beer bar.
“Yeah, it’s quite surprising what you bump into from time to time” I said.
“If I didn’t know better I’d say you’ve got another of those interesting tales to tell.”
“As it happens, I do” I said as we gave our food orders to the waiter.
“And” said Mark eyeballing me.
“The last time I was in that beer bar, out in front of the hotel, I ended up with a pair that were sisters”, I said smiling at the memory of it.
“They’re all bloody sisters dude. At least that’s what they try and tell us.”
“I know but they were for real because I checked their ID cards. There was a year separating them and they were from Petchabun. I guess that’s what attracted me to them. They were a bit taller than your average Isaan bar girl, and lighter skinned. One of them was even a university graduate and she had the graduation photos to prove it” I said shaking my head at the sheer bloody waste of an education.
“An educated hooker” said Mark.
“You can laugh buddy but it was pretty friggin sad what she told me. I mean the reason she was hawking the fork” I said taking another long pull on my Heineken.
“Do tell” said Mark doing likewise.
“Turns out she wanted to get a job in a bank but she needed to front up with a two hundred thousand baht payment before they would employ her. She told me that working in a bar was the quickest way she knew of to get that kind of grub stake together” I said.
“Sounds a bit dodgy to me dude. Why would a bank do that to someone they wanted to employ?” said Mark looking doubtful at the validity of the girl's story.
“Well, according to her, it was some sort of security deposit to ensure that an employee just won’t up and leave after all the training they’ve received” I said as a matter of fact.
“Possibly. Did you help with the cause?”
“Yes, I helped her out with the savings plan”
“And the dream threesome?”
“No such luck unfortunately. I tried everything from offering extra money to buying them a table full of Thai food. In the end they still said no so I had to do the business one at a time” I said smiling.
“A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. Even if it’s one at a time” said Mark laughing.
“Absolutely mate” I said as I took another swig of my beer.
“Got any interest in that lot out there?” said Mark nodding towards the car park
“Maybe later” I said nodding my head.
“Ah, the old wait till closing time and get a reduced rate tactic”
“Not really mate. These birds have got it tough as it is without some cheap charley trying to do the business with them for peanuts.”
“Do I detect a softening of the attitude towards the night fighter fraternity?”
“It was never that hard mate, just realistic. I never begrudge these birds for what they do because, at the end of the day, they’re just trying to make their way in this world. The pity is that most of them were probably genuinely decent gals before entering the industry but circumstances, or a being dealt a bad hand in life, have put them on this path” I said thoughtfully.
“Being dealt a bad hand in life, how do you figure that?”
“Being a female from a poor background in a country where the males of the population get all the breaks in life. A poor education which sees them consigned to the ranks of the lowly paid factory, or construction worker. Becoming pregnant to some irresponsible young punk that does a runner when he finds out there’s a plate to step up to. And, worst of all, the absolutely ridiculous expectations of the family back on the farm to provide for their well being into perpetuity. Imagine carrying that kind of obligation with you throughout your life” I said taking another gulp of beer.
“Yeah, it’s a tough call for a lot of them, dude” said Mark taking a pull on his beer as well.
“It is and that’s one of the reasons I’ll never get into a relationship with a poor Isaan girl” I said.
“You mean you don’t just get the girl, you get the family as well?”
“Yes, unfortunately and it mostly always ends up the same way” I said.
“What’s that” said Mark.
“The family becomes a bunch of parasites” I said.
“I know that only too well” said Mark shaking his head; no doubt at the current situation he has with his girlfriend.
“Like I said though, I understand their need to do what they do and the fact is that most of them are good fun. Too many guys come over here with the preconceived idea that they’re something like a sex robot that just turns it on at the flick of a switch. I’ve always found that it you treat them decently, they always seem to perform a lot better. It doesn’t have to be something big, or expensive, either. A bit of Isaan food somewhere or a couple of hundred baht extra in the morning and you can guarantee you’ll get a phone number.”
“It’s better to rent than buy, dude” said Mark as he took another pull on his beer.
“Yeah, that’s the golden rule when it comes to bar girls unfortunately. The thing is though they’re so friggin good at working their way into a guy’s head that, even before you’re really thinking about it, a guy’s handing over cash and taking them shopping. Not that some of the so called good girls, in this crazy place, are much better” I said.
“How’s that, dude?”
“It seems to be the same bloody equation with all of them unfortunately, money equals love” I said shaking my head and laughing.
“This is Asia, dude” said Mark.
“I know mate; no money, no friggin honey” I said nodding in agreement.
“It’s a damn minefield out there, dude” said Mark looking out the window and smiling at a couple freelancers in the car park.
“At the end of the day though mate it’s simply a case of let the buyer beware. If a guy takes a bird out of a go-go bar, tries to turn her into a girlfriend or, even worse, he marries her, and it all goes pear shaped, then he’s only got himself to blame” I said shaking my head.
“Yeah, som nam na dude”
“Yeah, well I’ve been there, done that and got the T-shirt” I said as I downed the last of my beer.
“Most of us have, dude” said Mark.
“Well I won’t be making that mistake again now that I’ve my T-GRIT list in place” I said as I called the waiter over.
“T-GRIT list, what the hell is that?” said Mark looking at me questioningly.
“It’s the ‘Thai Girlfriend Relationship Immediate Termination’ list” I said laughing.
“Do tell” said Mark as we ordered another round.
“More than one phone; immediate termination. Walks away from you to answer a phone call; immediate termination. Talks about money, or the lack of it, more than two times on the first date; immediate termination. Doesn’t answer the phone two times in a row at a prearranged time; immediate termination. Tattoo; don’t even waste my time. Likes getting drunk too much; immediate termination. Can’t cook and is a lazy bitch around the apartment; immediate termination. Not interested in getting a real job or studying to improve herself; immediate termination. Likes watching Thai TV soapies too much; immediate termination. All of the above with extreme prejudice and they’ve got thirty minutes to pack their gear and get out” I said as our beers landed on the table.
“Yeah right’o Captain Willard?”
“More like Colonel Kurtz” I shot back.
“How’s that, dude?”
“Talking about strength. Look, I’m not saying you need to be an asshole with them and treat them like dirt. It’s just that a bar girl is, more often than not, an opportunist. It’s just the way they end up unfortunately. It’s the education they undergo from working in the bar scene. It has a tendency to bring out the ruthless streak in them so that the only thing they respect is strength. Kindness is often seen as weakness and generosity is there to be taken advantage of. That’s why they all tell you that they don’t like Thai men. The fact is that Thai blokes don’t put up with any of their silly little bullshit games. They look at us and laugh because they think we’re soft” I said as we took a swig of our fresh beers.
“So you think I should be giving the girlfriend the back of my hand every now and again?” said Mark looking at me squarely.
“What you do is your business but I let you in on a little secret about Thai law” I said.
“What?” said Mark.
“In a domestic dispute between Thai couples, unless it’s murder, the cops hardly ever interfere. If a Thai bloke finds out his wife has been putting it about he’s quite entitled to beat the living shit out of her, on the street as well, and no one will interfere. That’s Thailand, mate. Love it or hate it but that’s the way it is. Now do you really think those bar girls want farangs to know that?”
“Doesn’t make it right though” said Mark.
“It’s not about what’s right or wrong mate, it’s about what is and what isn’t. Over the past couple of years, that I’ve been hanging out in Pattaya and Bangkok, I’ve seen some shit that just has me shaking my head in disbelief at the naivety of some guys on this planet.”
“Yeah like what?”
“Like, more than once, I’ve had a girl riding up and down on top of me, while she’s on the bloody phone to her farang boyfriend, telling him how much she loves and misses him” I said laughing.
“Fucking whores” said Mark as the waiter took our food order.
“Mate, you’re looking at it the wrong way” I countered.
“Because if a guy doesn’t draw a line in the sand from day one, and red flags start appearing, then it’s just som nam na. Like I said, bar girls are just opportunists; they’ll take advantage of what’s in front of them”
“How do you draw a line in the sand dude?”
“By applying the T-GRIT list from the opening round, that’s how. If they can’t abide by any of it, right from the word go, then they get their marching orders. By allowing them to cross that line in the sand you are really just saying that you’re a soft cock and you can be screwed over. A conniving bar girl will only offer you a life of pure hell because they’ve always got their own agenda; they definitely aren’t there to aid your cause on this planet. Who knows, maybe some guys are masochists and they enjoy the head fuck that comes with the guile and deception” I said.
“Dude, they’re not all conniving bitches. I’ve met some that were fairly decent people.”
“No doubt but was that while you were plastered and buying the next round” I said laughing.
“Fair point” said Mark.
“Look, I enjoy their company; they’re good fun. But let’s keep things in perspective” I said as our steaks landed on the table.
“What are the odds that someone, whose primary skills set is sex in exchange for cash, is going to undergo a life changing transformation of their own volition?” I said as we began tucking into our meals.
“Better to rent than buy” said Mark nodding in agreement.
“Absolutely” I said.
As we sat there eating I had a quiet inward laugh about one of the bargirls I’d been with that had performed flawlessly in the manner I’d described to Mark. I’d met Ooy in the lounge bar area outside Angels about eighteen months previously. I was sitting there enjoying a quiet beer when she plonked herself down next to me on the sofa. We had a couple of drinks and when I asked her if she wanted to go into the disco she said she couldn’t because she was only nineteen. The age limit for Angels was twenty so I sat there with her, had another couple of rounds, and then took her up to my room. Most birds of that age are borderline useless when it comes to providing a reasonable standard of pay for pleasure service.
Ooy was not; she was a highly skilled artisan. She later told me she had been in the game for five years and got her start, at the tender age of fourteen, down at Patpong. She had a boyfriend, somewhere over in one of those Scandinavian countries, and, no doubt, he was rather concerned about her movements at night; thus the frequency of his phone calls. More than once she’d been on top, and riding up and down on me, while calmly talking into her phone to sooth his concerns. This just proved to me that nothing gets in the way of a bar girl and a night’s earnings. Over the following couple of months we got together regularly to renew the friendship but, as with a lot of things in life, it was too good to last and she eventually got her visa and left for the cold climes of Scandinavia. Three months later she called me to tell me she was back in town and would I like to renew the friendship. Being an obliging sort of fellow it didn’t take me long to answer in the affirmative. When we finally got together again I mentioned that, as she was now a good girl, it should be just for fun and not for business. Unfortunately she didn’t quite see it that way and applied a fairly inane logic that I should actually pay more now that she was a good girl. Some things never change.
We finished our steaks, had another beer and then wandered out into the enveloping warmth of a humid Bangkok evening. The car park was a kaleidoscope of human activity as freelancers strutted their stuff and cashed up horny punters from the four corners of the globe mingled amongst them. We stood on the car park side of Sukhumvit and looked across to the entrance of Nana Plaza. A congested, chaotic mess of roadside food carts, street vendors and katoeys created an obstacle course for us to negotiate. As we were about to move off a couple of Isaan's finest approached us.
“Hello sexy man.”
“Is she talking to you or me” I said as Mark and I looked at each other and laughed.
“Probably to you, dude. Your wallet’s fatter than mine” he replied with a trace of time served cynicism.
“True enough” I said as I reflected on the fact that appearance, to a bargirl, quite often has very little to do with, whether or not, a bloke is considered sexy. The fattest guys with the biggest beer guts can earn that title if a bar girl thinks he’s cashed up.
The psychology of bargirl speak; questions and statements which appear innocent enough, to the unwary or naïve, but give the initiator a reasonably good assessment of your prospective financial position.
‘Where you come from’ determines the strength of your currency. Sterling, Euros and US Dollars being preferred and generally are associated with the comment: ‘You have big money’.
‘How long you stay here for’ determines how long a punter might be milked for.
‘You come Thailand first time’ is an assessment of how gullible you might be.
‘What hotel you stay’ informs of the standard of your hotel. It is an indication of your spending power and is very closely linked, once again, to ‘hello sexy man’.
I smiled, looked her in the eye and said “Bor bpen yang”
The astonished, wide eyed looked I got back was priceless. A couple of her mates had a laugh.
“Farang poot Isaan chai mai?”
We both laughed as we moved off towards the entrance to the Plaza. Taking the escalator up to the second level we made our way along the balcony, that runs its entire length, until we arrived at the far the right corner. Rainbow 4's entrance has the signature velvet curtains of a go-go bar. We parted them and moved inside. The place was packed and it looked like we’d be hard pressed finding a seat. Then a hostess came over and showed us to a table, a couple of meters from the doorway, which was facing the dance platforms. We sat down, ordered a round of drinks, and looked across at the two elevated platforms. There were about forty girls, in total, shuffling about the chrome poles with some looking decidedly bored. Most of the punters, on the stools around the dance platforms, were virtually drooling and I wondered how many of these were newbies to the LOS.
This was one of the high profile go-go bars and, as you’d expect, most of the girls had reasonably good figures. Some, I had to concede, were hot. This is to be expected though because go-go bar girls attract the highest fees and, as such, they’re essentially displaying their assets. It’s muff on the hoof, a bit like a cattle sale where the best meat is on display and on offer to the highest bidder. The thing is though that these girls, for the most part, are bloody lame. They get used to mug punters throwing stupid amounts of money at them and they develop attitude. Which is why they end up looking so bored with what they’re doing (they know they don’t have to do a lot to earn their keep). In fact most of them displayed a level of interest, in what they were doing, which would equate to what you’d expect from a couple of old women having a discussion about the weather while shelling a bucket of peas. One way to liven them up, of course, would be to launch a bucket of ping pong balls into the middle of the dance platform.
My thoughts were interrupted by someone shaking my arm.
“Hello, you buy me drink” she said looking at me with a wide grin.
It wasn’t so much a question but a demand.
“And your name is” I said as another girl approached us to hit Mark up for a drink.
“Nui” she replied with dead pan expression.
It didn’t really matter what her name was, she was just another poor, uneducated girl, from Isaan, trying to hustle up a living. A lady drink, realistically, isn’t expensive so I asked her what she wanted and immediately she yelled out to a waiter and ordered tequila. She was 22 years old, a hard core drinker already, with tattoos on her shoulder and lower back.
You could make a mould to produce a production line of go-go bar girls, or most bar girls for that matter. It generally goes something like this: daughter of a poor rice farming family from Isaan; minimum level of education – usually only six years <It used to be 6 years but changed to 9 years several years back – Stick>; finished school at thirteen years of age and worked on the rice farm for a while before taking a low paid, minimum wage job in a factory in Bangkok; by 16 or 17, meets and becomes pregnant to a young Thai male; after giving birth the young Thai male is nowhere to be found; returns to the village and leaves the baby with her parents before heading off to Bangkok, or Pattaya, to work in a bar. What they do to earn a living is their business. The point is though, and this is where many guys lose their way with these girls, what they do is a job. They’re earning a living and, as such, they’ve got more tricks up their sleeve than a Las Vegas card shark for extracting money out of gullible foreigners. It may be that some of them are genuinely straight but the odds of that are low. It’s the beauty, the smile and the false sweetness that sucks most guys in but, the reality is, what have they got to offer that’s going to improve your position on this planet – nothing really, that’s the cold, hard truth of it. A relationship with one of these girls only means one thing: an economic flow which is unrelentingly one way – from you to them and it will rarely change.
I looked down at her stomach and noticed the faint stretch marks. She’d had a child but, unlike so many of them, hadn’t been left with the ubiquitous spider's web on the stomach.
I looked across at Mark as the waitress dropped our drinks on the table.
“Time for a bit of fun here I think mate” I said laughing.
“What have you got in mind?”
“Say hello to the farang mor doo” I said with a smirk.
“This will be interesting” said Mark shaking his head.
I looked at Nui. She had fair skin and a bit of the Laotian look about her. There was a fairly good chance that she was from Northern Isaan; somewhere right up on the border like Nongkhai or Khon Kaen. I smiled at her.
“Give me your hand” I said politely.
“Ta mai” she said suspiciously.
“I am farang mor doo” I said looking deeply into her eyes with a straight face.
She hesitated, unsure and then slowly put out her hand.
“Ching” she said with a look that suggested she was uncertain of the truth of my claim but, due to the fact that most of these village girls’ lives are steeped in superstition, didn’t want to turn down the opportunity of some free fortune telling.
I took her hand and looked at it intently for a few seconds. The truth is the only thing I knew about palmistry was the life line. Hers was fairly long so I had a reasonable idea that she had longevity in her family.
“What you see” she said with her eyes full of expectation.
“Cha cha” I said.
I wanted to try and establish a little bit of credibility without stating the glaringly obvious.
“Your home is near Lao” I said.
“Yes, village near to Nongkhai” she said, smiling.
“Hmmm. Your mother is Lao” I said taking a punt.
“Yes” she said smiling even more.
While I sat there staring intently at her palm, Mark was shaking his head and laughing.
“Oh for fuck's sake dude. I swear you could sell refrigerators to Eskimos”
I looked at the faint lines on her stomach. There was an odds on chance that she only had the one child.
“You have one baby from Thai man. The baby is now about four year old and stay with your mama” I said.
“Yes, but my baby is five year old” she said looking at me with a degree of suspicion again.
“Okay. But in Thailand you use the next birthday as your age?” I said smugly.
“Yes, my daughter she five year this year.”
“So she is four years old now?” I said growing in confidence.
“Chai ka” she said looking more convinced of my mor doo powers again.
“You had broken heart from your Thai boyfriend and now you come to work bar and want to find farang to take care of you and your baby?”
“Yes” she said looking at me in wide-eyed amazement.
This was pathetic. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. Everything I was telling her was so plainly obvious. I looked at her again and estimated that she’d been working in the ‘industry’ for at least twelve to eighteen months. The tats and the liking for hard liquor said as much. She was still young and reasonably attractive, in that Isaan way, so she probably had the odd sponsor, or two, taking care of her. I decided to chance my arm again.
“You have a boyfriend in Europe” I said looking into her eyes again.
“Not Europe, in England” she said looking at me warily.
“Okay, but England is next to Europe” I said looking at her intently.
“Ching?” she said smiling.
“Ching” I replied with a nod.
“Your boyfriend is a handsome young man but he not give you enough money each month” I said throwing caution to the wind.
“Yes, he keeneow. Only give me a little bit and I still have to work bar” she said looking a little peeved.
I was tempted to ask her how much ‘a little bit’ was. The eternal problem with bargirls; enough is never enough.
“I think you’re going to meet a handsome, rich man very soon” I said as I turned and winked at Mark.
“Ching. Mu arai?” she said getting closer to me.
I paused for a few seconds giving the impression that I was deep in thought. I was but it wasn’t anything about fortune telling. I was just considering, once again, how bloody predictable these birds really are. I may have become cynical but even the slightest indication of a financial windfall raises their enthusiasm levels more than anything else I know of. I smiled the smile of a cynic that knows the game.
“I think very soon, maybe even tonight” I said as I looked intently into her eyes.
“Tee Nai?” she said with a beaming smile and wide eyed enthusiasm.
I looked into her eyes again.
“Tee nee” I said breaking into a sly grin.
“Nai. Go hock” she said looking at me and laughing.
At least she wasn’t completely naïve.
“You buy me one more drink” she said as she pulled hand away.
“Fair enough” I said as we all laughed.
“Farang mor doo. Go hock” she said shaking her head with a grin.
“You pay bar for me tonight?” she said looking at me with a determined look of an experienced bar girl.
“I’ll think about it” I said taking another slug of my Heineken.
I wouldn’t be thinking about it too long. I looked at her and smiled. She was friendly enough but, the fact was, she was a bottom feeder; a skank. Newcomers, of course, in the same position would be thinking that this was as good as it gets; even more so when the beer goggles go on. Her problem was that I wasn’t a newcomer. I had the time served experience of a long term expat and knew what the score was. Most farangs don’t like to acknowledge this but the girls that work in the farang bar areas, such as Cowboy and Nana, are the bottom of the barrel; the dregs. And, the main reason that we end up in these places is because A) it's cheap and B) most of us don’t know any better. I had the recent benefit of hindsight gained from visiting venues where the Thai, and Chinese, boys like to go. And, believe me; the standard of totty in those venues is infinitely superior to the line-up of brown skinned, Isaan grunters that you get in farang oriented go-go bars. Quality pussy can be seen at the Sky Lady Bar; the Caribbean Music Theater; Pegasus and the St. Morritz G-clubs. White skinned and tall with tits; there’s just no comparison. It’s still pussy for hire, of course, but the standard is just so much better; cheap it ain't though.
I smiled at Nui and she smiled back. She was probably thinking that I wouldn’t be able to resist her rough and ready charms. Better to let her go home to her motor bike taxi boyfriend than continue the false little world they create for themselves from fooling gullible farang into parting with silly amounts of cash. No sweetheart, beautiful and sexy you ain't. Still, it’s a requirement to be polite; whatever I really thought of her would remain buried in my inner most thought processes.
“Sorry sweet heart, cannot. I gotta go pick up my girlfriend in an hour's time”
A white lie saves face. The artificially enthusiastic smile faded quickly. The drink was nearly finished and, unless we bought another round, her time with us would be as well; there were plenty of willing punters for her to work her little tricks on. I downed the last of my beer and looked at Mark.
“Time to make a move I think.”
“I might hang out here for a while, dude. There’s a couple of babes here I’ve taken before and I’m thinking of making it a repeat act” he said looking towards the dance platform.
“Yeah, no worries mate. If you don’t make it to Angels I’ll catch up with you in the next couple of days” I said as I shoved the required amount into the bin container.
Nui was still hanging about; no doubt thinking that I would be good for a parting tip. I stood up and shoved a one hundred baht note into her bra. She smiled and waied as I made a move towards the door. I worked my way back through the seething mass, gathered around the entrance to the Plaza, and made a bee line to Angels. The last time I was here the entrance fee was 400 baht, which entitled you to one free drink. I arrived at the door to find not much had changed; the entrance fee was still 400 baht. I received the red inked entrance stamp and elbowed my way to the bar. It was 11 PM and already packed. I ordered a Heineken and surveyed my surroundings. Standing in exactly the same place, that she always occupied, was Nat. She must have spotted me as I entered. I looked at her and smiled. She put her nose in the air and looked away; no doubt still pissed off about the way I’d dumped her.
We had a bit of history; a kind of love/hate relationship. The sex was great but she was another borderline psycho. I’d picked her up in Angels about 12 months previously and we’d been an item every time I turned up in Bangkok. She was a bit too skittish for my liking though and I got the feeling that her emotional instability/sensitivity had a lot to do with drug use. Still, I suppose they don’t like someone rubbing their noses in it and anything that reminds them of what they do, to earn a living, shatters the little fantasy world they create for themselves; the truth can be unpalatable at times. One night, as the taxi we were in was inching past the Nana Hotel, I’d casually remarked to her that she wouldn’t need to go to her office tonight. I just thought it was a harmless joke. Unfortunately, poor old Nat didn’t see that way and she burst into tears and told me that I’d ‘spoiled it now.’
She really had the hump and, when we arrived at my hotel room, she curled herself up in a ball and sat on one end of the sofa. I was at a bit of a loss what to say simply because I was still pretty much in a customer and working girl frame of mind with her. It appeared to me that she had other ideas about our relationship. I put 1,000 baht on the coffee table and told her that she could go if she wanted. The room I was renting had a separated dining area and bedroom. I closed the door and got into bed. 30 minutes later she hopped in beside me and attacked me; it was one of the best night’s sex I’ve ever had and it made me realize that, if you want a Thai hooker to perform, make her angry first. It works like a charm.
We had a couple more sessions together after that and then she introduced her best mate, Da, into the equation. Da was a bit more buxom than Nat. She had a sizeable set of tits and a bit more meat on the rump. She was one of those darker, satin skinned girls from Buriram. The threesome became a regular occurrence until Nat started to get the idea that I was enjoying my time with Da more than I was with her. Da was quickly removed from the equation; the potential threat of the loss of income, Nat received from me, being removed.
I’d last seen Nat three months ago and she looked like crap. She’d gone back to working in a go-go bar and the regular yaba use, and poor diet, had seen a marked loss of weight; she was as skinny as a rake. I hadn’t seen her for a couple of months prior to that and it had been a bit of a shock to see her frail looking condition. I made the mistake of taking her to Fuji, at Paragon, and was given the icy look of ‘what an earth are you doing bringing that in here’ by more than one group of hi so’s. It was a mistake I’d never make again. When we arrived back at the Nana, I paid her off with a couple of thousand baht and told her I didn’t feel well and was going to spend the night alone. In hindsight this no doubt caused her a loss of face situation.
I looked across to where she was standing. Da was there with her as well and smiled at me. I picked up my beer and moved towards them. Da was still looking at me and smiling while Nat was doing that silly thing they all do; pretending not to notice you but secretly hoping that you’ll buy them drinks all night and pay more than the going rate to take them home. At the end of the day, money is still the bottom line.
“Hello Da. Sabai dee mai?” I said as I sidled up to them.
“Sabai dee Ka. How are you Mike?” replied Da with a smile.
“I’m good thanks Da. Hi Nat, Sa Bai Dee Mai?”
No answer and still with her back to me.
“Look Nat, I’m sorry about last time. How about I buy you a couple of drinks and we forget about what happened” I said politely.
Nat turned and faced me.
“It not about last time Mike. You gave me money for my time so that okay. I angry with you cause when I call you last month you just don’t care. You just the same as fucking Thai man” she said about to burst into tears.
Oh hell, I’d forgotten about that. She’d called me about a month ago just as I was about to go offshore. Apparently she’d been beaten up, and robbed of her gold, by a couple of motorbike taxi boys. When she’d fronted up to the local police to report the assault they’d, according to her, just laughed and told her to go and find another farang to buy her some more gold. And, that was exactly what she tried to do when she called me. After an initial short report about the assault, and robbery, she spent the remainder of the 10-minute call trying to convince me to buy her some gold. I said no but she was epitome of persistence. In the end I used the old ‘bad signal, you're breaking up’ and turned off the phone. I looked at her neck and hands; there was no sign that the gold had been replaced.
“I not work for one month, Mike. I had a lot of cut and bruise on my face. I just come back tonight” she said with a defiant look in her eyes.
And pigs might fly, I thought to myself. I looked at Da.
“It’s true Mike. She had a lot of bad bruise on her face” said Da neutrally.
“Well I guess you’ll be looking to make some money tonight then, is it?” I said with a bit of a smirk.
“Yes, and you have to pay more tonight” she said looking me square in the eye.
“Really. How do you figure that?” I said enjoying the repartee with her.
“Because I not have sex for one month. My pussy is tight and I am fucking horny, that why”
“Hmmm. My lucky night then. Okay, but there’s one condition” I said with a devious glint in my eyes.
‘What?” said Nat developing some more attitude.
“Da has to come as well” I said with finality.
Da was smiling.
Nat knew she was in a no win situation. She gave Da a short glare and then smiled.
“Okay, Da need money too but I want a jug of Blue lagoon cocktail while we are here”
“Oh for fuck's sake Nat that stuff is iridescent blue. It’s fucking vile” I said shaking my head in disgust at the idea.
“I like. You want threesome or not?” she said.
I handed over a one thousand baht note. I wouldn’t bother asking for change as it would be less than fifty baht.
We eventually polished of the jug of the disgusting blue concoction and rumbled up to my room. It was time to get down and dirty. It was time to re-acquaint our old friendship. It was time to live out every man's fantasy of a threesome with a couple of hot Thai babes. And, it was time to be honest with myself and admit that this wasn’t anything special because dozens of guys were probably doing the same thing, at the same time, in other hotels in this crazy city. Yeah, it was just another night in Bangkok. Now, where the hell is that Viagra when you need it? Over to you Murray; and forget the silly stuff about the chess game.
One night in Bangkok makes a hard man humble
Not much between despair and ecstasy
One night in Bangkok and the tough guys tumble
Can't be too careful with your company
I can feel the devil walking next to me
You capture the spirit and the feeling of nights out in Bangkok really well.