Readers' Submissions

Lessons Learned



Black Pagoda Patpong Bangkok

[Author’s Prelude: Compared to extraordinary submissions by Mega, Wai The Dog, and many others, my "lessons" recounted herein are strictly bush-league, dust in the face of those learned and shared by others. Nevertheless, not being a novice to P4P, somehow I’ve avoided the deep emotional pitfalls and consequences encountered by others. To date, I’ve successfully employed an emotional prophylactic allowing me just enough contact of the heart and soul to provide the “emotogasms” that are so fulfilling to me, but still protecting me from the long-term consequences. Maybe I’ve just been lucky. Maybe it's the "wife major" (farang) who really loves me, and provides a home to return to. But the herein-recounted "lessons" are nothing compared to those recounted by others. I just hope the reader enjoys a little light reading.]

A Little Down Time

On the previous night I'd been entertained by two very pretty young ladies, Angeles City's Club Atlantis feature dancers both. They were not disposed to engaging one another, which was fine, I wasn't expecting that. But I was a tad disappointed in their disposition toward engaging me. Don't misunderstand, they were both "friendly" girls, and we had about an hour of private, genuine fun. But, after a while, each developed that vague, ambiguous reason why they had to leave. Not quite runners, exactly, but the truth of it is, I was swayed by the beauty of each of them and hadn't specifically asked if they'd stay long-time. Confirmed for me later by a mutual friend, each of the girls I'd selected had boyfriends (i.e., no long-time). Intentionally prolonging the activities, I'd refrained from…that "special moment", and I was left alone in my room to face the challenge of sleeping and waking alone in El Dorado, and with a bodily backup, no less. I could have rectified both problems, had I had sufficient energy to wrest myself from the bed, shower, and head back out into the night. I didn't. I took advantage of my misfortune by enjoying a full night of sorely-needed deep, sound sleep.

I got up around 10:00 AM or so, enjoying a slow, private morning, watching Bloomberg, sipping some mango juice. Yes, I was disappointed, waking up alone in paradise. But I guessed I could tolerate it happening once. Reflecting on this hardship, I took some lessons from the previous night:

1. Unless one specifically seeks out girls who enjoy lesbian sex, George Michael is right, in the lyrics of the song "I Want Your Sex": "Sex is best when it's one on one." This was my second experience with two girls, and in each case, I would have had a better time with only one girl. (Just recounting my own experiences – I'm not looking for a fight.)

2. Always ask the difficult questions before barfining. Always.

3. Never assume that a promise of generosity will assure good service. (What these two girls didn't know and never learned is that, had they been a little more attuned to my relatively mundane desires, they would have come away with twice the already-generous amount they did.)

4. Don't rely on chronological age to be a meaningful factor in and of itself.

"Proud to be an American"

I showered, dressed, and strolled down to Margarita Station for some breakfast. As I took a seat, I noticed a man to my left, a black man, who seemed to radiate a friendly feeling. I made a cordial remark to him in passing, easy for him to embrace or ignore, at his discretion. He embraced it, and I was about to embark on my first meaningful American English conversation since leaving the USA a few days back. It would take many, many pages to reproduce the meaningful exchange I had with this man, John. He was an honest, open, thoughtful man who shared many priceless thoughts and experiences. I am indebted to him for both his insights, and for the brief American camaraderie he shared with me. He had lived in the Philippine Islands for the last ten years, continually renewing his tourist visa. In short, he told me, indirectly, to be careful and to not trust too deeply, providing multiple illustrations of mistakes made by others. It was a deep pleasure engaging John in conversation. He has lived, and is living, a life unrivaled by the proverbial "rock star": his is real.

A Stranger in a Strange Land

One of the two ladies visiting me last night, Sheryl, said then that she'd come back to visit me the next day. Other than the location and time (my room, around noon), we had discussed no details, and I was very curious to find out what exactly she had in mind. I found Sheryl quite pleasing to the eye, so I reckoned I had only a couple of early afternoon hours to lose, and maybe something to gain.

I started thinking more about what Sheryl had said, that she would stop by "with a friend". Now, looking back, I think she said that just because she thought I would prefer being with two girls, but that isn't what I was thinking then. I had read that this can be a scam, most often reported from Manila, leading to very deep trouble: a few moments with an underage girl in one's hotel room can lead to charges of rape, arrest, and a very large bribe to corrupt police. I wanted so very much to believe that Sheryl was just an honest, caring person. (You may stop snickering now.) It just didn't make sense that she would jeopardize her job at Club Atlantis, and she really seemed like a nice girl. (No, please, the snickering.) But my new friend John had put the fear of God in me about trusting these beautiful Filipinas. He had story after story after story of a foreigner being hurt, because they trusted too much. Passing back through my hotel's lobby on my return from breakfast and my conversation with John, I encountered what I considered to be an omen: a local policeman, sitting in the hotel's lobby, calmly reading a newspaper. That was the first time I'd seen any police at the hotel, and for me, that did it. There was no way I was letting some strange "friend of Sheryl" in my room without proof she was over 18. I still wanted to believe in Sheryl, and was very curious to see her again and to find out what she had in mind. But I chose to wait for her in the hotel's outdoor restaurant, sipping an SMB, and catching up on my diary. If anything seemed amiss, then, no problem, we never go up to the room.

About 12:25 PM, as I'm sitting in the outdoor restaurant of ABC, I look up and see Sheryl walking toward me, with a big smile, and no friend. She takes a seat, and she is very pleasant. I ask if she wants anything, and she says no. She's carrying some french fries from Jollibee in a clear bag. I really didn't know what, if anything, she had in mind. Maybe she felt obligated to finish last night's business, maybe she was concerned I'd complain to mamasan, maybe she wanted a chance for more money that afternoon, maybe she just liked spending time at the hotel, away from wherever she lives. What I did know was that I had no intentions of initiating anything sexual. Sheryl had had her bite at my apple, and I wouldn't be choosing her again. She is one of those "high-standard-deviation" types: high on appearance, low on performance. What I did hope to do was to engage in more cultural interaction, to see into and learn about her life in the Philippines, in this place that is both heaven and hell.

My Visit with Sheryl

We went up to the room. As soon as we went inside, she tried to telephone her mother, to let her know she'd sent her some money. I assumed it was the money I'd given her last night. It was. She looked up and said "Busy".

The room was very comfortable, and conducive to casual entertaining. We cuddle on the loveseat, talked (within language limitations, of course), and watched TV. We watched a TV program called "Wowowowee", featuring host "Willi of Fortune". It was a combination game show, talent show, and general interest daytime program. It was mostly in Tagalog, but much was Tagalish, so I could pretty well follow along. Anytime I was unsure of what was going on, I asked, and Sheryl would explain. She had a very alluring, demure voice and demeanor. Because her English skills were somewhat limited, everything she said was slow, measured, and deliberate, which made her voice and cadence quite appealing. I found spending this time with her very enjoyable. Not as much fun as other activities, mind you, but fully worth the cost of a couple of early afternoon hours.

I learned that Sheryl and Joyce (the other girl entertaining me last night, with Sheryl) have the same mamasan. Sheryl and Joy (another girl from Club Atlantis who I likely would have barfined were it not for her lady's cyclical concerns) live in the same dormitory. There are six mamasans at Club Atlantis. Sheryl's salary is P190/day, she gets P100 for each lady drink, and P1,500 for each barfine. I was her fourth barfine, and her first foreigner.

Last night Sheryl had expressed experiencing pains; I now asked about the nature of the pain. She said that when she is dancing, and she has to squat down, she feels pain. She freely used the word "pussy", and referred to hers in mixed person: "my pussy, she hurt". Communication of that kind, from this exotic beauty in this exotic location, is priceless. Her answer was vague, and I doubt her sincerity, but that was more-or-less irrelevant to my asking about it.

I asked about traveling. If she could visit someplace, where would she like to go, Paris, Bangkok, Tokyo? "To my Province, I only want to see my family."

I asked if she had a boyfriend. She said no, her priorities are her child and her work.

Later, maybe around 2:00 PM, I prompted her: "Do you want to call your mother?"

She picked up the phone and called. As they were talking, at length, she looked up at me, rolled her eyes, put her hand over the phone, and said in exasperation, "My mother!": some things remain common across all cultures. A couple of times I heard what I thought was Sheryl's mispronunciation of my name, "***". A few moments later she pulled the phone away, looked at me, and said "Do you want to talk to my mother?"

What? Really? I was stunned, speechless. Was I supposed to cover for her somehow, like I was a co-worker, friend, or acquaintance? Of course I would be pleased to talk to her mother. I was seeking genuine cultural interaction, and I was getting it. But, really, I had absolutely no idea what to say, or what to expect. I said "Okay, sure, but I don't know what to say, and I only speak English."

She spoke again with her mother. I heard her say "Englis", then she moved the phone away from her mouth and said "She want to talk to you."

So, we spoke. Her name is Aurora. She said she is "Mother of Sheryl". Having no idea what to say, I said that her daughter is very beautiful, and I am sure she is very beautiful. In my own naive way, I was very deeply touched, even near tears. A few minutes after the phone conversation, I had the nerve to ask Sheryl if her mother knew why I had given her money. Sheryl's reply was a simple "yes", and this answer may have been true. The very fact that this conversation took place at all is the very kind of cultural mind-twist that someone from my country just could never anticipate: the mother of an exquisitely beautiful prostitute, who is several hundred miles away and caring for the girl's child, wants to converse in a foreign language with one of her daughter's customers. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree; perhaps Aurora was recalling former days.

About 2:40 PM, she left, telling me she had to learn some new dance, a Korean cultural dance that she would be a part of at Club Atlantis. No surprise to me why she was chosen for that kind of a dance. She initiated nothing, she asked for nothing, and I gave her nothing.

I remember thinking at the time, what striking, remarkable simplicity. But later I came to understand that this is not the case. Without trying to, I caught this demure, exotic beauty in two lies, and my intuition was telling me there were more. It reinforces the lesson that nothing in the East is ever as simple as a foreigner would like to think it is. I am reminded of the movie "Chinatown".

Do You Mind if I Drop This Off Here?

Soon after Sheryl's departure, it was time to find a sexy, short-time companion to absorb the prior evening's unfinished business. It was about 3:30 PM when I picked up my list of bars, to see what was open. I knew Pony Tails was nearby, was open, and had a great selection, so I put down my list and ambled over. There was light rain. As I exited the hotel, traffic was at a standstill, and smashed up against the edges of the road. Many yards away an ambulance was forcing its way through the center of traffic. I was a little surprised that all of the drivers made a big effort to clear a path for the ambulance; they really did take it seriously. Now, I'm not sure why I found that surprising. I guess I had seen enough emotional pain and suffering to taint my view of the heart of a Filipino.

Because Pony Tails turns the stage over every three songs, it is very easy to get a great look at a lot of girls in a relatively short amount of time. Soon I spotted a petite girl who really had my number, so I noted hers, #393. She was cute, not exactly a beauty, but had my winning combination of a very shapely derriere and straight, thick, coarse, black hair to mid-back. But it was the sultry, suggestive way she moved her body that really set her apart. Soon after she exited the stage I called over my waitress to go get her for me. She came over and very soon just about wrapped herself around me. There was great chemistry, spark, and good communication: I knew right away, this was my girl. I hesitated a little, but I'm not sure why; I think maybe I was a little put off by her very petite size, as she stood only about 4'9". I posed some difficult questions and she gave all the right answers, just as I'd expected. She was disappointed when she found out I only wanted short-time; she said she wanted long-time, she wanted to stay with me all night. I paid her barfine of P1,350, and she went to change. I didn't like her outfit very well, but so what – it wouldn't be on her for long.

As we stepped out of Pony Tails, there was moderate, steady rain. The hotel was so close that I tried to encourage her to walk, but she said no, we take a trike. Well, okay, so this'll be my first trike ride. I was pretty sure this was just a scam to generate a few pesos for that particular trike driver, but really, a buck or so here or there means very little to me and quite a lot to them. She jumped in right away, and scrunched over. I tried to get in as gracefully as possible, but in spite of my best effort I ended up pulling on some of her hair. I know the ride shouldn't have been more than P20, maybe even P10, but I had no change, the smallest I had was P50. I wasn't going to squabble in the rain, with a hard-on, over less than a buck. I know it's a game – and I genuinely think it's funny how each side sees themselves as coming out on top: they're gypping me out of a buck or two here or there, I'm engaging their precious feminine stock for little more than the cost of a nice lunch or dinner. I'm happy to concede defeat.

She was really cute, going up to the room. She acted like she knew where she was going, but took a wrong turn at every opportunity. She provided my second "you all look alike" moment, when she saw a photo on the wall of the outdoor restaurant area at ABC. She was looking at the numerous photos and said a man in one of them looked like me. Her "bar" name is Joanna, but her real name is Jo Anne. She had an exceptionally well-proportioned body, but very petite: 4'9", maybe 85 lbs., maybe 31B-21-29, 19 years old.

She showered, then we had a little intimate time (I had showered just before heading out to Pony Tails). This girl was no stranger to intimate circumstances. She was very sure of herself, and very good. When it was clearly time for boom-boom, I reached over for a condom, and tossed it on the bed toward her. I wasn't being crass, pending actions were obvious from context. Boy, what happened next was really surprising. She said "What's that?" as she picked it up, then mumbled "condom" as she recognized it. She seemed very unsure of using a condom, almost disdainful. She asked "How do you open it?", and then she didn't seem to know how to put it on. She wasn't playing coy – this girl was hot, and ready for sex. This gave me the impression she went bareback all the time. Well, I knew how to put it on, and did. Despite her petite size, she climbed on. A short while enjoying myself with her, and soon everything was right with the world.

A Bargirl Surprise

Shortly thereafter, lying next to me, Jo Anne said with clear frustration, "I didn't cum yet." I felt bad (a little), but more than that, I was surprised. I have always assumed that, on those occasions when a bargirl seems to be having an orgasm with a customer, she virtually always fakes it, solely to provide a better experience for her customer. But this girl's tone was serious: she wanted more, and she was disappointed. Maybe it was Tony-award-quality stage; I don't think so, but can anyone ever know the true heart of another?

At Pony Tails, Jo Anne had said she only spoke a little English, but her English was far, far better than she had let on. She is very smart; she had no difficulty communicating. She'd been a bargirl for 3 weeks, and I was her sixth barfine. Her mamasan works at a different club, Tropix, if I recall correctly. I asked why she became a bargirl. Her reply was direct: "I have no choice". She had a persistent, deep cough; God help her, if that cough is related to her aforementioned disdain. This sultry young girl told me her birthday was coming up soon, and told me the date. My mind reeled: how could this girl possibly have known my birthday? As I very quickly reviewed everything that had happened since we met, it became clear that this was just a powerful coincidence. I could nearly bring to mind the very day she was born.

Exhibiting that common Filipino trait, she soon and easily drifted off to sleep, a few minutes before 6:00 PM. I wanted to go out, but she looked so tranquil and peaceful there sleeping, that I wanted even more to just let her sleep. I very seriously considered changing my plans and keeping her long-time. It was a tough call, because she has all the great qualities I'd be seeking, except for higher-end appearance features. It was very uncharacteristic of me, selecting from the stage such a petite girl, and based primarily on feeling. Around 6:10 PM, my laundry was delivered. For someone relegated to a sentence of 9-to-5 in Farangland, feeling free to answer the door in my underwear while a strange girl is sleeping in my bed is yet another of the countless, joyful oddities taken as commonplace in this topsy-turvy man's Disneyland: after all, "TIAC". I let her sleep until 7:00 PM, as I planned my evening and wrote in my diary. I awakened her, and when she was ready, I tipped her P1,000, and walked her out of the hotel.

I was very purpose-driven in seeking out and taking this girl, who was a "let's get down to business" kind-of-a girl in a very hot "this is what I wanna do" kind-of-way. Given my backed-up state, she was precisely what I needed, but uncharacteristically, and without specifically intending to, I kept tight reins on my heart while with this precious young woman, and I don't take that as a good sign of my own emotional health. Frankly, she did scare me a little, this very petite thing, with her persistent, deep cough combined with her apparent propensity for bareback. And the birthdate thing rings heavily in me: I'm not a big believer in coincidence. As I reflect upon my time with her, and the events driving me to it, I feel a sense of being in some larger, unseen arena, even a sense of destiny. I am beginning to feel that, somehow, I am playing a meaningful role in some of these girls' lives, in some larger, intangible, perhaps even spiritual way. And them in mine: it's never, ever just fucking.

Another Evening Begins

Returning from walking Jo Anne out of the hotel, I prepared for another night out. When ready, I went down to the lobby, and said I'd like a ride to La Pasha. I had seen their website and read a couple of good reviews, so I wanted to check it out. The rain had not abated, so there was a considerable wait for a car….


Stickman's thoughts:

Nice anecdotes and it does seem to me that things are sufficiently different in the Philippines to Thailand that those bored with Thailand should, at the very least, check it out.

Good on you for striking up conversation with John. Things are very different here in Asia to the West and it is always a good idea to listen to what your fellow countrymen have discovered and heed any warnings they may have.