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The Gravity of My Hell



One of his favorite activities as of late is to stare at her without the interruption of her knowing. She sits in her seat gazing out the large window with silent purpose. With long legs crossed at the ankle she wears stylishly dark slim jeans of a European design. Her black low cut top is more American. Long black hair that stays magnificent, whether it is tousled or not, proves the perfect frame for her beautiful face. A rare mix of stunning and mature, her beauty is something that her 19 years of age is just starting to grasp. It often shows in the involuntary reaction and thoughts of both men and women when they notice her now. She lets her hands rest clasped together askew on her lap. It is all too easy for him to notice the ring on her finger that some other guy had given her before. Though it’s a diamond set in gold, its value is nothing compared to the small yellow natted strings she now has tied around her wrists. At this point he slides his hand into hers. Her dark skin is a nice complement to his even darker skin. The yellow strings around his wrist line up perfectly with hers. Today is the third day but he doesn’t plan to cut his off until forever. Their arms sway gently together as the bus from Surin to Pattaya is finally meeting the sunrise. Despite the heart soaring ups and the soul wrenching downs of the past, two things have always remained constant in their relationship; change and the fact that he has loved her since the moment he first saw her off Walking Street 15 months before.

This story is about myself and it is happening now.

Like most stories here it begins in Farangland, America for me. Pumping gas one day I look over and see my neighbor / good friend / former co-worker doing the same one pump over. Being short on time he informs me that due to his job situation, he and a Vietnamese friend of ours will be going to India for a few weeks to find work that they can do from home in America. Not one to be left out I announced I was joining them. I was still with the company but a personal trip was definitely in order. That evening found me with my tickets to India reserved and tours of sites in India arranged. That night time found me with a feeling that something was missing ….something wasn’t quite right. At 3 AM it was still churning in my head. Something I had heard from someone who had heard from someone. Whatever it was I felt that all these years after hearing it that it was time for this information to come into play. I typed the word “Patpong” into Google and the resulting information overload went straight to the pleasure centers of my mind. Never mind 3 weeks in India…I’m going to Thailand!

The plan being; a few days in India for sightseeing and then off to Thailand for a week and then back to India again to finish the trip with my friends. The Taj Mahal, Red Fort, etc were a bit of an obligatory blur. Thailand was on my mind. My business travels often found me in the discos of Rio, the soaplands of Kubukicho, and the barber shops of Itae-won. I am no stranger to similar “franchises” located in Amsterdam, Hong Kong, Argentina, and Israel (yes there is mongering in the birthplace of Christianity, Islam, and Judaism). My mind raced with where Thailand would rank amongst that line up. At 34 years of age I was about 12 years into the international P4P journey so I could not figure out for the life of me why I had never even heard of a small city off the Gulf of Thailand called Pattaya. Felt great to capture that newbie feeling again.

After leaving India as planned and then promptly being bent over by the taxi mafia at the airport, I arrived at the Mothership at around 7 AM. Nana Hotel has seen better days and I had seen better hotels. According to lore this place is the center of the Mongering Dimension and all parallel monger universes converge at this point into a singularity. I believe it. This place had “SEXTOURIST” tattooed on its forehead and so did everyone who stayed there. I was glad to be staying there for that simple fact. I was there to monger and I didn’t want any mistakes to be made about it.

After recharging the batteries for a few hours I got lost trying to find Annie's. Annie herself could have given me directions but I could not find it. Eventually I ran into Joe. He’s the Thai man that stands almost all day behind the police box in front of the luggage store on the corner on Sukhumvit and Soi 4. I confessed to him that this was my first time in Thailand and he suggested a soapy and he knew just the place. He put a lot on how great this place was and it delivered. Oh the sensation. Reading about the soapy massage was 1 of the things that got me through the 24 hour journey it takes to get to Thailand from the US. It was a two-fer in that it was my first 2 lady set as well. Big Dogs turned out to be a good place to relax and frame that experience. The comings and goings on the street below reminded me of a documentary on ants that I had seen on the Discovery Channel. Big Dogs also proved to be a good place to rub the “my first time in Thailand” stank off of me. I practiced talking and responding to the girls. I practiced drink providing and drink refusal as well as check-bin checking. I was surely gearing up to climb the North Face of Nana complex that night.

That night, looking to prove the Murray Head “One Night in Bangkok” theorem I took the first escalator I saw and was vacuumed into the Mandarin club entrance right into the lap of Bang. Not my type but all smiles and all agenda, which wasn’t hidden very well. She was the perfect prop to allow me to gaze the table dancers and oh what a selection. After about 15 minutes I couldn’t see the forest through the trees. I saw so many girls that were just my type for the night that I couldn’t see them individually after a while. I had to go and clear the head for a bit. In leaving the go-go I literally ran into another “tourist.” Our resulting “pardon me’s” were in the same accent. He said New York and I said Chicago and that was enough for us to sit at a bar and have a drink. My first time in Thailand to his fourth time resulted in a 1-hour run down of all he knew from barfines to how to select and where to go…etc…etc…etc. The fact that he was my age, was African-American like me, and had also “toured” some the same countries I had definitely was reason for more rounds. Rather than talk more what better place than Bangkok to actually show and not just tell. A short walk brought us right outside of the Eden Club. He said it was Bangkok 101 and good place to grasp the possibilities of the place. Two selections to the left of the yellow line and a lesson taught that I won’t soon forget brought us back to the Mandarin club with me not even recalling the walk back to Nana. Santa would blacklist me for life for sure for the acts I had just done. It was time to select and go. I picked a sure stunner from Mandarin and he picked one as well and off we went into the soi. That night ended like all fairy tales do.

I met up with my new found mentor for a shared ride to Pattaya the next morning. The wheels left the highway more than once on the way. Absolutely harrowing. After arriving, lecture #2 began at the entrance to Soi 6. I felt like Neo to his Morpheus. As he described the scene and what the street was all about a Matrix that could only have been created by a monger illuminatti revealed itself before my eyes. He talked and we walked, finally ending the lesson at the end of the street on the beach road side. He then offered me 2 pills. Not the red or green pill option given to Neo. The 2 pills he offered were Cialis or Viagra.

Walking Street via the Coconut Bar was next. This is where the trouble began. Walking Street, the epicenter of retail sex. As we turned to enter one of the bars I felt someone or something hit me really hard in the chest. I staggered back a few steps. I felt the ground rushing to meet my face but I was able to steady myself in time. I came to in time to realize I had just been mugged. I frantically checked everywhere on my person and then double checked to be certain. Yep it was gone….my heart had been stolen! Just as little girls in adolescence begin to build and imagine their perfect wedding day, little boys begin to imagine and realize their perfect girl. I too had mine and she had grown and developed in my id, ego, and super-ego from my teenage years until now. She was the reason I was able to let failed relationships in the past go so well. The girls I had left behind just weren’t the girl I had grown and nurtured in my mind all these years. I immediately looked up to see who had robbed me. When I saw the perpetrator, the image of her entered my mind and stood next to my dream girl. My dream girl of all these years immediately left the building. She left my psyche forever because she simply could not compare to the woman I was seeing before me in that bar in that instant. I looked at her again and she wasn’t even looking at me anymore. She was now looking away. She was able to do this to me with just a glance.

Imagine my disappointment when she wouldn’t even talk to me hardly. The bar girls roaring “hansum chocolate man” in the background didn’t help. Morpheus pulled me away citing her apparent attitude and assured me I could find one here without. I reluctantly shuffled away careful not to trip over my tail. Morpheus delivered and a non attitude go-go girl was found and that night ended like all fairy tales do.

A few days later had me flying solo at Big P (what I now called Walking Street…no offense to Big C). Morpheus was at the hotel having a bout that only Doxycycline could TKO. I went back to my precious thief to see if I could get my belongings back from her. She appeared as nervous as before as I talked to her. The bartender had to come over and help her talk to me. I then proceeded to beat her at connect four about 5 times in a row. It was revealed that her demeanor was due to me being her 3rd customer ever. Had I caught her the first time I saw her I would have been her first customer. She had just done the cleaning girl to waitress to bar girl slalom. It’s a double black diamond slope for some. Her image of herself had not caught up with reality of herself just yet. She warmed to me quick though so it was back to my room to what ended up being the best conversation followed by the worst sex imaginable. She was still much too new to the game to know what pleased herself thus anyone else. Her first customer 2 days ago was her first….ever. After having tipped way too much the next morning I resolved to see her again the next night. The next night at her bar was a different experience. She was all smiles and waiting for me outside the bar. She had already paid her bar fine to ward off any others in anticipation of my coming for her. At my hotel we had just great conversation again but definitely no sex this time….it only would have ruined the mood. The next morning I had to check the internet early so I left her sleeping in my room with soft instructions to sleep well while I would be back in 20 minutes. 20 minutes on the dot later I walk in the room and saw what I really didn’t expect to see. A clean room and a fully dressed fully showered girl on the edge of my bed ready to leave. She said she was nervous because she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to be in my hotel room without me. She thought security would take her away. She then wai’d me and proceeded towards the door. In my confusion as to why she was leaving so soon I let her brush past me and out the door. That action was a simple cure to my problem. Just let her go and my problem would leave with her. Other plans were in the works though…the force hit me in the chest again but I was ready for it or so I thought. It had a much different effect this time. This time I helplessly watched as my legs ran out of my room door and towards the elevator. I don’t know who was doing it but I saw my hand press the down button but it was too slow…to the stairwell. I could hardly keep up with my body. I saw myself run across the lobby. With only a single deep seated thought in my head, as she was halfway out of the hotel’s main door to the street I grab her hand from behind….

…Similar to the way I am grabbing her hand now as we sit on the bus. I look up in time to see her staring at me without my interruption this time. It’s only a glance now but apparently that still is all it takes. As I hold her hand today I still have that same single deep seated thought in my head that I had when I grabbed her hand like this in the hotel lobby doors all those months ago. I don’t want her to walk out of my life I think to myself now, just as I thought then.

Now it’s my time. My time for the image of myself to collide with reality. I abruptly remove my hand from hers. Our strings, the symbols of our “Union”, are no longer aligned. I break that visual bond in an attempt to break the chemical one. The first step in the terrible process that I know I must follow and complete now…


Stickman's thoughts:

Very nice indeed…and I do hope you share a part 2 of this story!