The Brokenman Repaired Part 10
This submission is a report of my recent visit to Thailand at Easter 2011. It is a typically long and rambling account of my rosy cheeked misadventures. I suspect my customary candour and openness will annoy a few but I hope the majority of readers will find some mild amusement in my observations.
It is a submission I never actually thought I would write. When I married my Thai lady friend of several years on my last visit to Thailand in Easter 2008, I honestly believed it would put an end to my mongering adventures in the kingdom. This has proved not to be.
With no gainful employment since Christmas or job on the horizon, blowing a windfall tax rebate and my last remaining savings on a trip to the fleshpots of Thailand would not appear to be a sensible use of resources but then again when have I ever given any indication of being in the slightest bit sensible.
The story begins with a journey to Heathrow Airport Terminal 3. Every time I visit London I feel the sooner the peasantry take up their pitchforks and put torch to this god forsaken metropolis the better. But maybe not today, I was bound for the salacious sois of Sukhumvit for the first time in three years. The revolution can wait my return.
The Thai TG917 flight was good, the food excellent and I had the company of two pleasant young guys on their way to Pattaya. One told me he was going for a few days shag fest but had told his wife he was going to New Deli to visit an Indian subcontractor. I thought if ever there was a recipe for disaster there it was, but good luck to him. I managed to get a good 6 hours sleep and arrived at Suwarnabhumi airport at 3.00 in the afternoon refreshed and raring to go. The smell of aviation fuel and tropical tarmac confirm I was back in my spiritual home.
The traffic from the airport was heavy particularly at Sukhumvit and it was 6.00 before I arrived at the Nana Hotel. I checked in, threw my suitcase on the bed showered shaved and put on a suitable drinking shirt with practised ease. I was out into Soi 4 before 6.40. Strolling down Nana Tai I espied a familiar bulk about to enter Hillary bar. It was my old drinking companion and legendary man about town, Union Hill. I hailed him and we entered the bar together. As only old pals can, we pick up the conversation as if it were yesterday rather than 3 years since we had last seen each other. He bought me up to speed with developments in his life and the local gossip he felt I should know about.
At 7.30 we repair to the Golden bar to see a group of fellow Stickmanites waiting to greet me. Now I make no apologies for my wanton and gratuitous name dropping in this submission. One of my principle aims this trip was catching up with old friends and meeting some new ones made through correspondence on the stick site
Phil is my oldest pal in Bangkok, we were introduced by his daughter who I employed and mentored through a metallurgical apprenticeship some years ago. He was the chap who first initiated me to the delights of the Kingdom in 2003. Bangkok Barry has been a buddy for some time and is usually the first to spring to my defence when I am occasionally attacked on the stickman site. Fanta is one of the most intelligent and engaging men I know. I am particularly proud that a guy of his calibre is a fan of my writing. I was pleased to see Sick Water Buffalo again; we had met on previous occasions. He is always charming company and the last of the gentleman mongers. I was thrilled to meet John Daysh; we had corresponded for some time but had never met. I was a big fan of his writing; I recognised experience and maturity in his work so I was surprised at how young and good-looking he was. We are later joined by Somkit, another disturbingly handsome chap who I had exchanged notes with and knew from the old Schoochers forum.
I was informed the sainted Stickman had sent his apologies; apparently it was his turn to give the reading at Bible class that evening.
Pleasantries exchanged, stories traded and a few beers imbibed we all take taxis to Soi Cowboy. We start at the Tilac which I remember as the best bar in the Sol and had just been refurbished on my last visit. I can not remember too much of the evening except for some entertaining conversations with a group of splendid fellows. I vaguely recall visiting upstairs at the Dollhouse and a couple of naked girls being very familiar with John Daysh. My last recollection is being back at the Nana hotel, too drunk to sing and only standing by some deep genetic memory.
The following afternoon I meet up with Phil in the Boosa bar on Soi 7/1. He brings me up to date with the recent developments in his life. We take a trip to the Four Points hotel and in lieu of dinner avail ourselves of the free Tapas the bar supply. We are drawn inexorably to the Tilac. I relax and take in the ambiance of this amazing establishment. There are 30 or so girls dancing but it is reputed the bar has almost 300 girls on its books. The girls mount the stage and move amongst the chrome poles like a conveyor belt ensuring one has a fresh view every few minutes. The music is loud and hypnotic. On my first visits to Bangkok Phil’s favourite bar was the Dollhouse but he has since transferred his allegiance to the Tilac. He has become a permanent fixture and all the girls know him. One of the girls approached him distressed at a text message she had received from one of her sponsors. The message enquired “What has happened to the 12,000 baht I gave you?” Phil took the phone from her and sent the reply “ALL GONE SEND MORE”
When Phil returns home for his beauty sleep I take a look in the Dollhouse. I have had some lovely girls from there in the past but nothing excites tonight. I also peruse Suzy Wong and was mesmerized by the body painting show they have. I return to the Nana Plaza and have a look in the Mandarine go-go bar and later Rainbow 1. As I exit the Plaza I am dragged into Lollipop by a lady midget with a voice like Alvin the chipmunk. I enjoy a couple of drinks but when I check my wallet I find I don’t have enough money to check bin. Fortunately I always have a £20 note secured about my person for emergencies like losing my wallet or being robbed. One of the serving girls gets it exchanged into baht for me in order to pay my bill.
Back in my room I reflect with some dismay what a pisshead I am spending money like a soviet submariner on his annual shore leave. After only two days I had demolished a good part of my budget for a week. I desperately needed to rethink my activities and curb my profligate spending.
There was no doubt Thailand had become considerably more expensive in the three years since my last visit. I can not blame the Thais for this; the fundamental issue is the rate of the British pound against the Baht which is currently 48 baht against the 70 baht I remember enjoying on previous visits. This is the result of economic meltdown in the west which can be attributed to the insidious decline of our industrial base as much as the banking crisis. The avaricious industrialists in the US and UK are to blame for moving jobs to low labour cost countries with indecent haste under the excuse of globalization. They are also on my list come the revolution.
Having overslept and missed the Nana Hotel breakfast I take an early morning coffee in the Golden bar. A feature of my previous visits was mornings in the Golden bar which afforded a strategic view of all the comings and goings along Soi 4. It was also a source of daytime girls for afternoon delight but this year there was nothing that caught my fancy. I have breakfast in Charlie’s kitchen then perambulate the other bars along the Soi, Stumble Inn, Big Dogs, Stryker’s and Hillary. I drink orange juice and chat to a few girls in each bar. After a couple of hours I return to my room and take a snooze before the nights activities
I am woken from my siesta by a phone call. It was Nat my errant Thai wife. A large feature of my previous visits and submissions was my relationship with Nat. The story is well documented elsewhere but as each submission must stand alone I proffer the readers digest version. I met Nat on my first visit in 2003 and we remained friends. My lonely life at the time prompted the plan to marry her which I did at Easter 2008. She moved to the UK and lived with me in Wednesbury in the West Midlands. All was idyllic until I lost my job in December and she returned to Thailand. In January I started a new position in Cambridgeshire; she returned from Thailand and stayed with me there. One week in March she decided not to travel to Cambridge and stayed in our flat in Wednesbury. She phoned me on the Wednesday informing me she was moving to London to work. When I returned on Friday she was gone. I only saw her once again before she returned to Thailand at the end of 2009. Despite numerous attempts my contact with her has been minimal since her return to the kingdom.
In her phone call she informed me she wanted to see me but would not be able to meet me in Bangkok. She is a Catholic and was spending Easter with all her family in Nong Khai so they could attend Mass together. She did however inform me she would try to come and see me next week when I was down in Pattaya. I was not holding my breath, I was only her husband.
That evening I once again made my way to the Tilac to find Phil and Bangkok Barry in their customary pole positions. Barry introduces me to his latest paramour, an enchanting little poppet with a delightful face and a most exquisite figure. Barry was like a dog with two dicks and a bladder full of piss in a street full of lampposts
My priority that evening was to watch the Baggies v Tottenham match so I set up camp on the terrace outside the Tilac. Phil comes and joins me but just as we are getting settled a Fat white girl with an arse like two bags of grocery plonks herself down on a seat in front of the screen. She was enormous like a beached whale and had a face like an Easter Island statue with an arse full of razor blades. Her boyfriend was a good looking young man but it seemed however much he danced attendance on her demands for drinks, damp towels etc it did little to modify her miserable countenance. Fortunately the Tilac terrace was not to her liking and after merely taking the skin off her drink, instructed her boyfriend they were leaving. This allowed an unrestricted view of the screen and I took great pleasure watching the Albion hold the mighty Spurs to a 2.2 draw. It was a vital point in the baggies battle for premiership survival.
I returned to Nana and spend a gentle hour in Spanky's. I later drop into the Golden bar for the last hour and am joined by an attractive older girl with a very pleasant demeanour. She is just the sort of girl I have been looking for as a daytime companion. I buy her a drink but quickly ascertain she is not really interested in my barfining her that evening. When the bar closes I take the opportunity to observe that amazing spectacle known as the Nana car park. It is an incredible phenomenon that at 1.45 I am a nondescript old geezer but at 2.05 I become a hansum man in that location. Joking apart, one thing I have noticed, on my early visits to the kingdom I was often told that I was a good looking guy but this trip I was regularly informed that I must have been a very handsome man when I was younger. This was quite disconcerting and confirmation I am not ageing well.
I can appreciate that sometimes the girls have to work very hard to sweet talk and can imagine it is exceedingly difficult with some of their customers to find any redeeming feature that they can compliment. I recall 12 years ago being Works Manager of the largest privately owned aluminium foundry in the UK. It was highly successful operation until all the business was farmed out to Poland and China for short term gain. The owner was a supreme egotist and at times I felt my primary role was to tell him how wonderful he was. He would turn up in my office at a set time every day and all but command me to tell him what a splendid fellow he was. It became hard work to find new expletives each day to describe his self perceived magnificence. I once in jest offered to make a tape extolling his virtues to save his daily visits but he never understood irony and in the subsequent years until the plant closed he regularly asked me if I had made the tape yet.
Sunday I had arranged to meet the Schoochers Zoo gang at the Basilico restaurant in Soi 33. I am a little early so pop my head into the Office. It was very busy last time I came but quiet that evening. Soi 33 is a fascinating place but the street is poorly lit which I think detracts from its attraction. I enter the Basilico and see the legendary BKKSW sat alone. Stevie is a prolific contributor to stickman and also writes the weekly photography section on the site. He was most supportive of me when I made my first tentative efforts at writing; he gave me some much appreciated constructive criticism and practical tips. We had met on my last visit and took to each other immediately. Stevie is a larger than life character notorious for his forthright views. He has received some rebuke for his (often tongue in cheek) tales of his success with women. I actually believe him, and I can easily imagine his cheeky smile and boyish charm working wonders on women of all ages and race.
We catch up on events in our respective lives whilst waiting for the others to arrive. We get a message that Fanta could not come and sent his apologies. I was a little disappointed as in our last conversation he mentioned his wife had some plan to introduce me to a young lady with the aim of sorting me out. I was inquisitive to hear more. The first to arrive is Boggi. His unique and surrealistic sense of humour is the stuff of legend and I am convinced the spirits of Spike Milligan, Peter Cook and Dudley Moore reside in his body. His exchanges with Thai Ties on various forums over the years are highly entertaining and also the stuff of legends.
Jodi arrives next with her new boyfriend in tow. We share a passion for choral music and she brings me up to speed with her latest projects. Her career is flourishing and her reputation in the music community is riding high. She also looked very good but she knows I fancy her anyway. She seemed relaxed and contented. Her boyfriend was a tall rangy English fellow maybe a little younger than me. He worked in recruitment so I asked him about my chances of employment in the kingdom. His reply was not encouraging, he agreed many Thai companies desperately needed engineers of my calibre but were reluctant to actually employ them.
Once the meal is over Jodi and her boyfriend depart. Stevie is scheduled to return to the States the next day so he is not long behind them. This leaves Boggi and me to explore the delights of Sukhumvit. We take a detour to his hotel in Soi 5 to deposit his bag then it is to Soi Cowboy with all good speed. We make the ubiquitous visit to Tilac and later to Suzy Wong's. Boggi and I are a similar age and have similar backgrounds so we were very relaxed in each others company. He is a naturally witty fellow and he kept me smiling all evening with his observations. We eventually make our way to the Nana Plaza. We investigate Sexy Nights for some forgotten reason and end up in the Mandarine table dance bar. There are some nice girls here and a couple I feel are worth noting for future reference. Boggi feels likewise. We are eventually thrown out at 2.30 so we both depart to our respective hotels confident we had cemented a long term friendship.
I book out of the Nana hotel at midday and take a taxi down to Pattaya. I check into the Opey de place, a pleasant little hotel near the junction of Soi Diana and Soi Buakhao. That evening I take a baht bus to Walking Street and have a spot of dinner in the agreeable Secrets bar. I make my way to Baby dolls as I had a mission. My pal Bangkok Barry had requested I look up one of his (many) girlfriends who hadn’t contacted him for a few weeks. He had given me a wad of notes so I could buy her a couple of drinks. I quickly find the lady in question and she joins me for a drink. She is quite delectable with a lovely disposition. I spend a pleasant hour or so in her company courtesy of Barry’s wad. I had considered taking her but she was understandably reluctant knowing I was a friend of Barry.
My next port of call is Superbaby which I consider Pattaya’s answer to Baccarra and the Rainbow bars. There are some very pretty young girls specifically for Asian customers and three of the serving girls remembered me from previous visits. I take a look in Beach club where I had a lovely girl on a previous visit. I also visit the new Fahrenheit, a very lively establishment with some quite delightful girls on view.
I feel we need a new vocabulary to describe these wonderful females. Words like poppet, bunnies, sweetie or honeys don’t do justice to the subtle erotic charm they deliver. Years ago the legendary Bernard Trink made an attempt with his use of epithets like demimondaines and inamoratas but I don’t think they quite work either.
I depart Walking Street and end up near my hotel at the new LK Metro complex. I allow myself to be dragged into one of the Go-Go bars. I am joined by one of the dancers and the girl who had dragged me in, so I buy them both a drink. The girl who had dragged me in began stroking my leg then proceeded to knead my Todger with a practiced expertise. I joke with her “if you can get it stiff you can have it”. She was quite skilled and I felt definite stirrings. In next to no time I was in possession of a quite passable engorgement. I kept my word, barfined her and we took the few yards back to my hotel. She was no great beauty and was probably nearer to 40 than 30 but she was pleasant and had a good body. She sported nipples akin to a pair of chapel hat pegs and pussy lips like Harry Rednapp’s eye lids. Another agreeable surprise was the tightness of her aperture which was like a puckered pin prick. She attributed this to the fact she had never had a baby. Once coupled I rapidly felt the jester’s shoes upon me and a couple of year’s celibacy departed my blowpipe like a flock of starlings. I had finally got the hump off my back.
Later I introduced her to my newest little vibrator (my mongers little helper) and I thought I would have to scrape her off the ceiling she enjoyed it so much. On previous campaigns I have always bought cheap models that I acquired for a fiver (200 baht) from my local sex shop. The recession affects even the sex industry and the shop recently closed terminating my supply. I went into the Anne Summers shop in Wolverhampton High Street and asked advice from one of the female shop assistants. She recommended a small model only 4” long and 1” diameter but with an unbelievably powerful motor and 6 different settings. It cost £35 but proved to be extremely good value. I could probably consolidate concrete with it.
My companion left me around midday and with a weight lifted I spent the afternoon in idle relaxation around the hotel pool reading and occasionally taking a swim.
That evening Materialsman came to meet me at my hotel. I was looking forward to seeing him again, he is great company and I was hoping to receive an update on his fascinating and complicated love life. He is an extremely level headed bloke who is exceptionally astute and understands me very well. He is often a source of sound advice and wise counsel for me but has never censured me no matter how daft he may have thought my actions to have been.
We decide to stay in the LK Metro area and get ourselves comfortable outside the Armageddon bar. He still lives with his charming Thai wife of umpteen years at weekends in his palatial house in a town south of Pattaya and in the week lives with his delightful Mia Noi in an apartment in the city. A situation I suspect his wife knows about but prefers not to fully acknowledge for reasons of face. He brings me up to speed with the latest developments in this finally balanced ménage which I can see will definitely present some serious challenges to his juggling skills. However knowing my friend I strongly suspect he already has a plan in place. At 11.00 he understandably has to return to the tender bosom of his young mistress. Four hours had passed unnoticed in his genial company. With his departure I invite the young waitress to join me for a drink and while away an hour or so in her company.
I reflect on my friend’s situation. I am not betraying a confidence in relating my friend’s story as he has already published the tale himself some years ago. A key event in his life was ten years ago when his Thai wife of several years (on her 30th birthday I believe) informed him out of the blue that she had decided they would not be having sex again. The reason tendered was she now considered herself too old for such unpleasantness. I know he loved his wife dearly so one can imagine the despair and disappointment this unilateral decision had on him and can but sympathise. He is an inherently faithful bloke and I strongly suspect he would never have considered taking on a mistress if this arbitrary pronouncement had not provoked him.
I have come across this capricious decision by women to “turn off the pussy tap” on a number of occasions. Other than the obvious that she has found an alternative supplier of Hampton, sometimes it is the result of hormonal problems which reduces their libido. It can also be a cultural issue. I know in some ethnic communities once a woman reaches a certain age it is considered indecent to still be sexual active. It can also be the woman attempting to use it as leverage for material gain or even the result of listening to the advice of malicious friends.
I experienced this myself with my first (English) wife who turned the pussy tap off on her 39th birthday. I attributed this at the time to her paying too much attention to the resentful and poisonous opinions of a particular coven of embittered females she had become friends with. To clarify, the one friend had been married to a black guy who frequently beat her and took her money, the second friend was married to a bloke who hadn’t worked for years and frittered her money away in gambling. The third friend although married, turned out to be a rampant rug muncher (lesbian). I suggested they were not good role models to be receiving advice from.
I countered her arbitrary cessation of conjugal activity by cutting her personal allowance, refusing to be a taxi service for her almost daily visits to her mothers and generally retired from being a beast of burden to her until she agreed to at least discuss the issue. She never did, it transpired she was already seeing another man. We were divorced within the year.
My second wife Nat arrives at my hotel two hours later than agreed but I was glad to see her. She had gained a few pounds but still made my heart jump a little on seeing her. I can not deny I still cared for her. I was disappointed my suggestion of a little connubial intimacy was declined but not totally surprised. We agreed to talk honestly and freely without reproach. She admitted she had treated me badly and confessed that she had spurned contact with me for the past year because she felt so ashamed. This was the first time I had ever witnessed a Thai girl admit she was wrong. It took courage.
The overriding issue was her debts. She explained at that time she owed 2 million baht and pressure from the Banks and threats from the Thai courts were unrelenting. She was in absolute despair and had contemplated suicide. I was not fully aware of the full story so she filled in the gaps in. She described how she had tried to find a job in the Midlands. She had spent days on the internet contacting Thai restaurants and care establishments but had been surprised at the rudeness of the rejections she received particularly from the Thai businesses. She finally found a job advertised at a Thai restaurant in West London. Her enquiries revealed the proprietor was also from the Isaan and he knew her family. He offered her a job which she saw as a lifeline so she immediately accepted. She moved down to London the next day without a thought for me, she admitted addressing her debts totally pervaded her thoughts and actions. Within a week the job in the restaurant became a job in the Thai massage next door. She continued to maintain it was a totally respectable establishment with no impropriety involved. It is somewhat academic now but I do actually believe her. She confessed she hated the job and the discourtesy of the Thai people she worked with but desperately needing the money stuck it out until November 2009 when she returned (permanently) to Thailand.
On her return the house in Chonburi and her car was repossessed by the banks. She moved back to the Isaan, set up a small business preparing and selling food at a large day market. She had differentiated her product by some clever packaging and began making a little money. Her sister is a highly skilled seamstress creating some quite exquisite dresses in a small workshop in Bangkok. Nat began selling these garments in selected night markets. There was no doubt she was working very hard and was understandably proud she had reduced her debt by almost half; she could now handle the bank repayments. I was satisfied she was repentant and that she realised that maintaining face had been the cause of her problems. She explained her family had finally stopped making demands on her and her son was now working to pay himself through University. She seemed more relaxed about her future and I was happy for her.
We discussed our options but the fact remained it would be extremely difficult, if not impossible to get her another visa for the UK. In truth she had already decided the UK was not for her. She offered the suggestion I could live with her in Nong Khai and teach English. She felt confident she could help find me a position in one of the better schools in the area. I have no doubt that Nong Khai would be a pleasant place to live but I was not in a position (or ready) to retire quite yet. In all honesty although I still cared for her, I had lost my fundamental trust in her. I suspect I would always be fairly low in her list of priorities.
There was another dimension which was the carnal consideration. The indifference that greeted my suggestion we made love one more time confirmed a misgiving I had held for some time. Over the years I had seen her sex drive slowly diminishing. I attributed this to hormonal effects but I also suspect she experienced physical discomfort from a cyst on her womb she claimed to have addressed but I guess never did. A girl younger than 40, with a diminishing libido did not auger well for a future relationship. After long discussion we both acknowledged that we had no future together it would be the best thing to divorce, to which she agreed. She did however give me one off the wrist for old time’s sake.
I took her for dinner in a fish and chip bar recommended by Materialsman and we talked of happier times. Despite our recent difficulties we have always been good friends and extremely comfortable in each others company. She requested I take her to Walking Street for old time’s sake to which I agreed. We visited Secrets and then Angelwitch but it was too early for the cabaret. I took her into Alcatraz which fascinated her. She enjoyed pointing out the girls she had identified as being my spec.
We end up in the ZAB bar near the entrance of Walking Street, a venue I have taken many girls over the years (including Nat). In previous years they employed a highly experienced show band who pumped out old favourites which I always enjoyed. I recall some 6 years ago writing about a pocket sized singer there with a voice like Aretha Franklin who had utterly enthralled me. My comments were read by a young Thai musician in Bangkok who wrote to me explaining she knew the singer and she was pleasantly surprised a tourist would recognise talent and take the trouble to post a comment. We began to correspond regularly. The young musician was Jodi and we have remained friends to this day.
This year to my utter delight the ZAB bar now had a full ensemble showcasing upbeat Isaan music. It was wonderful. The band comprised three singers and three dancers with a full backing group. The two male singers were competent but the girl singer was exceptional with a superb voice and an incredible stage presence, that she was a beautiful girl with a dazzling pair of legs did no harm. But it was the three dancing girls that I found mesmerising. The elegant and poised balletic moves of the Isaan dance are so graceful and so pleasing to the eye. I imagine girls are taught these dances at school and they performed them with an energy and enthusiasm rarely seen in country type dances elsewhere. In fact of all ethnic dancing the whole world over nothing compares to the sheer exuberance and joy of Isaan music and dance. Even Nat was enraptured by the performance. She is a little snob and often referred to the Isaan /Laos music I always play in my car as “factory girl music” but not tonight. At midnight I put Nat in a taxi to return to her friend in Jomtien whilst I return to the ZAB and stay until the end of the performance reluctant to leave. When I am finally ejected I return to my hotel with my spirit uplifted.
Nat meets me at my hotel early the next morning and we take a baht bus to the Amphor at Banglamung. We make a slight diversion into the Police station for Nat to secure some missing documentation then into the Amphor itself. A couple of hours filling in forms, copying documents and the process is complete. I was presented with a pretty coloured legal certificate in Thai confirming our divorce. I still have to present a translated and appropriately notarised copy to the British Authorities but this can wait.
I am once again a free man, and it was all quite painless. I am free again to repeat the mistake (only joking….seriously I am only joking). We return to my hotel say our farewells then Nat departs to catch the bus returning her north. I appreciate I had done the sensible thing but could not escape the feeling of great sadness and personal failure.
I had closed a chapter in my life.
I celebrate my freedom with a trip to Walking Street and enjoy a spot of dinner at Secrets. I take a stroll and end up in the FLB bar. I have a soft spot for this bar from when it was run by Ricky who I knew from his Nana Plaza days. There is a good Philippine band in residence and I am joined by a very agreeable hostess. I while away an hour or so in conversation with an incredibly obese young Scots lad (known on some forums as Secret Santa) with a fund of unbelievable but highly amusing stories. A perusal of Carousel, Baby Dolls and a return to Secrets finally sees me back in the ZAB bar. The show is as enthralling as the previous evening but being alone gives the opportunity to observe the audience. The place is jam-packed and the atmosphere is of an innocent joy. The dance floor is full of Isaan ladies dancing with farang boy friends and off duty bar girls relaxed and happy hearing the music of their homeland. I suspect this is what a holiday in Thailand should be about.
The next morning I find myself in the Royal garden plaza ambling aimlessly indulging in that harmless pursuit known as people watching. I am stopped in my tracks by an absolute vision of loveliness. A feature of Thailand is every day you see a woman that you are convinced is the most beautiful creature you have ever seen in your life then within an hour you encounter another who causes you to re-evaluate your previous opinion. But this moment I can fully understand the stories of Helen of Troy launching a thousand ships and I am certain I stopped breathing on seeing her.
She was about 5’7” with an exquisite slender figure extenuated by a tight white V necked cotton shirt. On her head she sported a red baseball cap from beneath flowed a mane of long black luxurious (shampoo advert quality) hair cascading almost to her waist. Extremely tight red micro shorts showcased a most delicious arse like two ripe peaches. A pair of unfeasibly long legs atop beautiful pedicured feet clad in elegant sandals completed the vision. The surprising thing was this veritable goddess was not an exotic Siamese siren but a white farang girl. She may have Russian but she did not have Slavic features, her face was soft and delicate more typical of a northern European background. She had the look of a young Cheryl Cole (without the make up). I was totally mesmerised and had she deigned to speak to me I would have willingly become her lifelong slave without a moment’s hesitation.
I will admit in the past my observations about farang women I encounter in the kingdom have been less than complimentary. My general opinion is one should throw a blanket over them so they don’t scare the horses. But I must admit this visit I have been astonished at both the quantity and quality of western girls I have seen in Pattaya. I am told they are all Russian but I am not convinced all the attractive white girls I saw in Pattaya were Eastern European. Notwithstanding they are a very welcome addition to the female landscape.
Even in Bangkok I saw some very pretty young white girls. It was refreshing to see their open smiling faces typical of the eager young girls working in shops and offices in any town in the UK and Europe. They were nothing like the pinch faced harridans always ready to make an acidic remark to any western men caught enjoying themselves I witnessed on previous visits. I suspect many of them have come to Thailand looking for work and to escape the recession prevailing in the west. Good luck to them.
Once my peach bottomed goddess eventually removed herself from my vision I recovered my equilibrium and went into Bookazine. I was looking for John Daysh’s novel but as they did not have it I ended up buying Steven Leather’s Bangkok Bob and the missing Mormon. By this time my legs are aching so I take a seat near the dancing fountain on the ground floor. There were a group of young Asian children playing in the fountain dodging the jets of water and emitting screams of sheer delight if a spurt caught them. As a father myself I know there is no more wonderful a sound than the laughter of children enjoying simple pleasures. I sat for a few minutes enjoying their innocent joy and reminiscing of the days when my own boys were this age. I am suddenly struck by the thought I wouldn’t be allowed to do this back in the west. Some busybody would have had me arrested for various perceived crimes. The political correctness that is pervading life in the west is destroying so much and it is all so very sad.
That afternoon I enjoy an early beer in the Armageddon bar in LK/Metro. I fancy some farang food so I walk to the Stags Head opposite. I had just put myself outside a plate of Ham egg and chips when the Royal wedding (between Prince William and Katie Middleton) is put on the TV screen. I am no great royalist and hadn’t given the event much thought; in truth I didn’t really care a four penny fart.
I watched the build up to the ceremony with a gentle indifference but as the couple enter the Abbey the opening cadence of Charles Hulbert Parry’s anthem “I was glad” fills the bar. I am suddenly engulfed by an evocative memory and transported back almost 50 years. I am once again a boy chorister singing this wonderful opus in Lichfield cathedral. This magnificent and glorious music evokes a huge tidal wave of emotion that completely overwhelms my senses and I am ashamed to admit I cried like a baby. I stay to see the whole ceremony and repeat my tearful episodes a couple more times as I am overcome by the wonderful music. By the time the Royal couple depart the Abbey I am like a limp rag. I apologise to the people around me for my embarrassing show of emotion but thankfully they are all quite sympathetic and understanding although they probably thought I was a candidate for the loony bin.
At midday the next day my taxi is waiting to return me to the Nana. I check out of the Opey and am back in Bangkok in next to no time. I have a haircut, manicure and pedicure in a salon in Soi 4. I decline the face massage as I consider it would be akin to polishing a turd. I take an early dinner at the Bus Stop restaurant. As I enjoy a splendid lamb dinner I notice a good looking young western bloke sitting with three of the ugliest Thai girls I have ever seen. They were not bar girls and they were not fat they were just deliciously ugly. I am naturally inquisitive and would have loved to have known the story behind that scene. The bar is well-known for showing Australian Rules football, a sport I know nothing about. However I can not fail to notice the dichotomy that this most violent and manly of sports is played by extremely tough guys wearing the tightest shorts you will see outside of a gay bar.
That evening I meet Phil in the Tilac. I am hoping to catch the Albion v Villa game. The two clubs are close neighbours being less than 3 miles apart. An Albion win would secure premiership survival but we hadn’t beat Villa for 28 years. Unfortunately this game is not being featured that evening. I am disappointed but I am in Bangkok and there are other pleasures to enjoy. I chat with Phil for a while then have a look at some other bars. I pop into Jungle Jims to see a couple of old friends and get scalped for drinks as usual. I take a look at Sheba's but eventually make my way back to the Nana Plaza. I sit in a bar (which one I can not remember) with a couple of lovely girls. I do recall eating grasshoppers and assorted insect delicacies with them. I eventually realise I am too drunk to do justice to a girl so return to my room alone.
The next evening I again meet up with Phil in the Tilac. I needed to withdraw some cash and Phil suggests I use the ATM at the Citibank on Asoke because they did not charge the 150 baht transaction other banks did. This was useful to know. We watch the Arsenal v Man U game on the Tilac terrace. There was one girl I intended to take but she had already been barfined by the time we got back inside. I returned to the Nana Plaza and sit outside Lollipop eating street food with Bridget the midget while I planned my next move
You would think getting a girl you fancied out of a bar would be a simple process, you select the girl you want, you negotiate a price, pay the bar fine and “Roberts your mothers brother”. However you invariably have to circumnavigate the system of “blockers”. These are girls who feel you are their property when you walk in a bar. The other hazard is on entering you are surrounded by two or three girls asking for drinks before your ass has touched the seat. There was one particular girl in the Mandarine table dance bar I quite fancied but knew the blocking system would prevent my acquiring her unless I was resolute.
I ascended the escalator and walked into the aforementioned establishment. I ordered a beer, got comfortable and ignoring the two girls who immediately pounced on me called the mamasan over. I pointed in the direction of the girl I desired and declared that she was the young lady I wanted. Of course you never fully win as entropy is the prevailing law in Thailand. There is an uncomfortable hiatus as she must complete her dance but eventually she joins me.
She is a delectable little minx with a delightful smile and a pleasant disposition. I buy her a drink, she tells me she is 30 and originally from Si Saket. I barfined her and after a respectable interval take her back to my room at the Nana. Stripped down she has an exquisite body with only one discrete tattoo. She was a very skilled and imaginative temptress and any further doubts I had about my libido evaporated under her tender ministrations. She also looked wonderful in a West Bromwich Albion shirt (small youth size). She stayed with me until midday leaving me content that I still had my Mojo.
I must admit I had come to Thailand not fully match fit. I was a few pounds overweight with chest and circulation issues that gave me difficulty walking any long distances. In fact if I was a horse I would probably have been put down. Bangkok is not really a good place to be if you are not enjoying the best of health and I did have a few problems in my first day or so. However by the time I had been here a few days and spent some time in Pattaya I had began to feel considerably better. There is definitely something about Thailand being the fountain of youth. I suspect the vast improvement in my spirits resulted in a marked improvement in my general health
It was a similar situation with my libido. I hadn’t pulled a western woman in open play for years and in fact had not been particularly successful in dead ball situations (internet sites, blind dates etc). I had been reconciled to this situation for some time and had concluded I did not really need a woman permanently in my life, a conclusion I found extremely liberating. However I had not been intimate with a female since my wife left me in Easter 2009 and what was worrying was that this abstinence did not seem to unduly concern me. In the past I would regularly experience bouts of celibacy in between my Siamese sojourns but I would always be acutely aware of the metaphorical hump on my back that had to be relieved. In the past six months all sexual desire appeared to have evaporated. I was conscious of the adage “if you don’t use it you will lose it”. The question was, had I finally lost my Mojo?
I did suspect it was the womanhood of the UK that had failed to inspire my interest. My penchant for Asian women is well established and I was confident that once I was in Thailand surrounded by Thai femininity my diminishing desire would immediately be resurrected. I am happy to report that this did prove to be the case.
It was also to my great relief to report that in my sexual encounters this trip I found the hydraulics still functioning. Now I am not saying I could bend an iron bar around it (my wrists have gone anyway) but I did experience perfectly serviceable protuberances and without the aid of the products of Mr Pfizer and the pharmaceutical industry. As an aside it is reported that the investment in Viagra is significantly greater than the investment in a cure for dementia. This suggests a future where priapic elderly gentlemen are walking the streets with raging erections but have forgotten where they live.
When you find the lead in your pencil is now HB when it used to be 4H it is perfectly understandable that one would consider a little pharmaceutical assistance. On previous visits I did experiment with Kamagra gel but it gave a blue tint to my vision which was quite disconcerting. This time I tried Cialis, which undoubtedly gave my tumescence a definite edge but the side effect of a tingling sensation in my lips and ear lobes was disturbing and lasted for days.
On the Monday I meet Alex (who writes as Nimrod H Buffalo) in the Nana lobby as arranged. We had only recently been corresponding but I suspected he was an extremely cultured and intelligent fellow. We repaired to the Bus Stop restaurant for dinner and it did not take long to confirm he was a most engaging chap and we were unquestionably kindred spirits. We make our way to Tilac and continued our conversation. After a time one of the dancers takes an interest in Alex and joins our table. Most of the girls at the Tilac are very attractive but this one was quite exceptional with a delightful smile and a winsome charm. Alex is most taken with her but he had a dilemma. He needed to return to his condo for an hour or so to complete some vital business on the internet. He wanted to bar fine this charming creature but needed at least an hour without distraction. I had no specific plans so I tendered a solution, I would entertain the young lady for him for the time he needed then put her in a taxi to his condo at the appointed time. Alex pays the bar fine then makes his departure. Pam is a bright girl and pleasant company so I suggest we go to Country Road bar at the end of the Soi which shares the same management as the Tilac. This cosy little bar has been a favourite of mine over the years. I have taken many girls there to listen to the music. They have a three piece band that play old time favourites and sometimes allow members of the audience to participate.
We enter the bar, make ourselves comfortable and are joined by a waitress who remembers me. Most of the numbers being played are not in my key and far too low for my voice so I do not feel the urge to sing. However after about 15 minutes of listening to tone deaf Germans giving excruciating renditions of classic numbers I decided to sing one. I mount the stage and was pleased the wizened old guitarist actually remembered me. I drop 100 baht in the tip bowl and address the aforementioned guitarist “Please play Take me home Country roads….you sing the melody and I will harmonise in thirds around you”. The language of music crosses all boundaries and he immediately understood. Our rendition of this classic is an impressive performance and draws enthusiastic applause. As I regain my seat a couple of members of the audience come across and congratulate me. I am asked by the waitress if I am a professional singer. I bask in the warmth of this acclaim and reflect; in the land of the truly inept the vaguely competent is king.
When the time comes for Pam to make her assignation to Alex’s condo she was visibly upset because she had lost his phone number. I find it amazing that Thai girls spend so much time attached to their phones but can not handle the simple transaction of recording a phone number but mai pen rai, this is Thailand. Seeing how distraught she was I comforted her that I had his number but only on email, however if we could access the internet I could find it for her. Her relief was palpable and I suspected her interest in Alex went beyond just money. I suggested an internet cafe around the corner but when we got there it was closed. She is almost in tears now so I propose we take a taxi back to the Nana hotel where I know I could access the internet on the facilities in the lobby. This we did and now in possession of his number contacted him, got his address and informed him she was on her way. She was clearly very interested in Alex and asked me to tell her a little about him. She was most surprised when I told her we had met for the first time that evening. She had seen us talking in deep conversation and assumed we had been friends for a long time. I must confess this has been a common theme in guys I meet from the stick community; we tend to develop genuine friendships which could be attributed to a commonalty of interests or that we are all very similar types of people.
I put Pam in a taxi and as I am in the Nana area drop in the Angelwitch. It was very quiet that night and I am joined by one of the serving girls who knew me from previous years. I sat and watched the always entertaining cabaret but note there are only three young girls left dancing when the cabaret finished. I mention this to my companion who explained for some reason all the older girls had been barfined very early which even she thought was unusual. I had heard a rumour that the Nana Plaza were tipped off about an imminent terrorist attack in reprisal for the demise of Osama Bin Laden. As a result all men of Middle Eastern appearance were to be refused entry to all NEP bars that evening. How true this was I have no idea.
As an addendum to the evenings activities Alex contacts me the following day to thank me for assisting Pam to their assignation. He was also happy to report that she certainly delivered on the promise of sexuality her exotic and sensual appearance suggested.
Tuesday evening I finally meet German Thomas in the Nana lobby after a few failed attempts to get together over the week. We had been corresponding for some time as he was working his way through the complete Brokenman repaired series, identifying all the blunders I had made and pointing them out to me with an alarming frequency. Thomas himself would not argue that he sometimes comes across as a most annoying sod. However when we actually meet he turned out to be an extremely charming and personable young man and we got on quite famously.
He explains his favourite tipple is the beer Lao Dark and the only place I know that sells it is the Big Mango, so we hotfoot to said establishment. Unfortunately they have sold out and had also sold out of ordinary beer Lao so we settle for a couple of Heinekens. Thomas tells me more about the litigation he is undertaking with an American University that has been going on for a few years. I admire his stamina and persistence. The Big Mango is a pale shadow of its former glory when it was located in Nana Plaza so with nothing to retain us I suggested a move, maybe to Soi Cowboy. Thomas had never investigated the Nana area and asked I show him around. We start at the Stumble Inn to find John Daysh comfortably ensconced there. John is always good for a tale and a spot of gentle mischief so we join him.
After a couple of beers we decided to have a look at the Nana Plaza but got no further than Big Dogs as I spotted Somkit. He was sitting with two young Dutch guys he was showing around town so we joined the party. I affected introductions and a spirited conversation ensued. Somkit’s two companions were a lively pair on their first trip to Bangkok. After an hour Somkit decided it was time to return to his wife and having seen photos of his wife I found this perfectly understandable. Even in a land where beauty is common place she stands out as exceptional. John also decided to return home and as his wife is a Thai policewoman this was also perfectly understandable.
The two Dutch lads were still raring to go so Thomas and I take them into the plaza. For some reason they specifically wanted to see Pretty Lady so that was where we headed. We had hardly put our asses on the seats when we are engulfed by a wave of dancers, dek serves and mamasans canvassing for drinks. It was like vultures on a carcass and far too full on for me. I sensed these amiable Dutch lads were about to be fleeced so I suggested they check bin and extricate themselves at the first opportunity. Thomas and I finish our beers and escape to Angelwitch for the final half hour before closure. We later spot the two lads outside the plaza being gently molested by two exotic ladyboys and looking none the worse for the experience.
Speaking of ladyboys I am reminded of an incident a couple of weeks ago in the Casino in West Bromwich. My brother, eldest son and I use the casino as a working men’s club and that Sunday we were in to watch the full programme of premiership football in comfort of the bar. Three striking Vietnamese females enter behind us and proceed to the gaming tables. Their entry had been noticed by every red blooded male in the club. It had also not escaped their attention that maybe one of the ladies was not quite what she seemed. I could see the one was clearly transsexual and not a very convincing one at that and was certain her beautiful companion was also suspect.
Now I am considered the fount of knowledge on all things Asian amongst the pissheads who drink there on Sundays so my opinion is elicited. Several enquire “was one of them a bloke?” I explain about katoeys and offer the opinion that actually two of them are blokes. I am not believed as the one in question was an exotic and beautiful creature. I proffer a £10 bet which five of my inebriated pals take. I check with the receptionist who confirms from seeing their ID cards that two of the three are definitely male. I walk out that evening £50 to the good which I assure you was not wasted on anything remotely sensible.
Wednesday was my last full day in the kingdom. I take breakfast in the Nana and later take a coffee in the Golden Bar. I had noticed earlier on the TV that one channel would be showing the Albion v Villa game that afternoon that I had missed on the Saturday. For the first time I felt regret that I hadn’t followed the pattern of previous years in taking a regular afternoon girl. I thought it would have been nice to see the game but it seemed somewhat sad to watch the game alone in a hotel room in Bangkok.
I am joined by one of the Thai spivs who sell watches along the Soi. He is a well known character and I have bought a couple from him over the years. I told him I had now run out of friends and family I could give “Lolex” watches as Christmas presents so was not in the market that day. He went into his customary tirade that I wasted too much money on women and drink instead of buying his products when his attention is diverted by a tall rangy farang walking on the opposite of the Soi in front of the Strikers bar. With an exclamation “I want that bastard” he jumps up and proceeds towards the farang guy. The farang guy is mid thirties and on seeing the stocky spiv puts his fists up in a defensive stance. The spiv begins swinging punches at him but the farang has some decent moves and the Thai can not get near him. At this the spiv smiles as if it is all good humoured fun, the farang drops his guard and the Thai lands a sly but impressive left jab just under the western guys right eye which puts him on the deck. The devious spiv then runs away. I have no idea what it was all about but the lesson to be learnt is never get into an altercation with a Thai but if you do, never let your guard down. The Marquis of Queensbury rules definitely have no place in the Kingdom.
After half an hour or so I decide I need a change of scene from the Golden bar and take a stroll to Stumble Inn for an orange juice and maybe some gentle conversation. I am somewhat surprised by the excited greeting I receive from one of the girls as I take my seat. I will admit I had bought her a drink on about six afternoon visits I had made, but I had done this in several bars and received polite indifference. Admittedly I had often sat and allowed her to try out her English on me using a newly purchased school primer. I had also listened politely as she related her story. Her name was Joy she was 29 her child was cared for by her sister in her hometown of Nakhon somewhere. She had previously worked in a factory but decided to try her hand working bar less than 6 weeks ago. A tale I had heard numerous times on my previous visits. But no matter how you think you have the measure of this dysfunctional Disneyland there is always something to surprise you.
I order a drink for us and she tells me she had been waiting to see me then disappears into the back room. She returns with a small plastic bag that she hands to me. I look inside to find a multicoloured woollen hat. She informs me she had spent the last few evenings knitting this for me because she had heard it was very cold in England where I lived. It was a gaudy shapeless thing but there was no escaping the sweet thought involved and I thank her for her very kind gift. I take a closer look at this girl. She is no great beauty, she is a little on the chubby side but had a pleasant face with a shy and quite appealing smile. Her whole disposition appeared totally without guile. She was a cheerful soul and the nearest to farm fresh I had seen for a while. I make a decision and ask her if she would like to spend the afternoon with me. She agrees with an unexpected enthusiasm so I pay the bar and we hotfoot back to my room at the Nana.
Her enthusiasm extends to the pleasures horizontal although there is nothing horizontal about her preference for riding me like a national hunt jockey high in the stirrups. She turns out to be an insatiable little minx and thankfully I had consumed no alcohol that day so I rise to the occasion(s). In fact if Fabio Capello, the England manager had been sitting on the edge of my bed that afternoon I would certainly have been selected for the National squad. She has a joyful exuberance and a lovely soft body built for comfort. We spend a most enjoyable couple of hours until my ageing body eventually demands a breather.
At 4.00 I switch on the TV to watch the match. My companion lies contented in my arms. The Albion gave a spirited performance and convincingly beat the Villa 2.1. This gives the Baggies the three points that guarantees Premiership survival. I reflect, I have a sweet natured soft bodied young girl lying naked in my arms with her hand firmly on my todger and I have just seen my beloved baggies thrash the Villa for the first time in 28 years. It just does not get any better than this. I even manage a metaphorical lap of honour by giving my cheerful companion another vigorous seeing too.
At around 6.00 I suggest some dinner which we take at the Bus Stop restaurant. She is gentle and agreeable company. She tells me she only had one customer since working bar, a young American who took her short time, but today was the first time she had been taken to dinner. She was a real sweetie and I was sorry to see her go but there was drinking to be done. At 7.30 we walk to Sukhumvit Rd she takes her bus home and I take a motorbike taxi to Soi Cowboy.
My pal Phil is not at the Tilac as he has gone upcountry to join his wife for a week or so. Bangkok Barry is waiting for me in his usual seat with his current squeeze at his side. We chat for an hour or so until Barry declares an urgent need to take his enchanting companion for an immediate seeing to. As they depart to a short time hotel I give a wry smile. Barry is a few years older than me but has so much energy I wish I could run a set of jump leads off him. He is living proof that Thailand is the fountain of youth.
I return to the Nana Hotel and book an early morning call. I sleep soundly and wake refreshed. I am now ready to start my holiday but must prepare for my journey home. As a postscript to the events of the previous day, I take a look at the photos I had taken of my cheerful little companion. I notice one photo where she is wearing a simple slide in her hair and sporting a shy and diffident smile. I am immediately struck by the remarkable resemblance to a photo of my (now ex) wife Nat I used to keep in my wallet. I am quite sure that many an amateur psychologist would have a field day explaining that one.
My journey home on flight TG 916 was pleasant and uneventful. It had however been delayed by an hour so I missed my bus to Birmingham. I caught a later one and got home safely to my little flat in Wednesbury in the early hours of Friday morning. I reflect on my trip and conclude it had been a most satisfactory sojourn. I had renewed some old friendships and made some agreeable new ones. My ailing spirits had been lifted and my soul had been repaired. I had also achieved some much needed closure in the relationship with my wife Nat. I had closed a chapter in my life.
Have I cured my obsession with Thailand?
The jury is still out but my previous infatuation with the naughty bar scene that Christopher G Moore refers to as the “sickness” has certainly diminished. Or at least it has been assuaged after two weeks.
My experience with Nat has curtailed my desire to bring a Thai girl back to the UK. For the first time in many visits I did not arrange to meet any girls I had met on Thai love links. I did not even contact any of the Thai ladies with whom I had long established friendships.
I think I can safely report my previously unhealthy fixation with Thailand has been downgraded to a healthy fascination.
Will I return to the Kingdom?
The answer is most certainly yes, when resources permit. I have made too many good friends in Thailand and the place remains a source of great fun. The Tilac is certainly a far more agreeable watering hole than my local “The Welded Wallet”. I can not imagine holidaying anywhere else, indeed the resorts of Spain or the Greek islands offer very little attraction after the delights of the Kingdom. Where else can I get delightful 30 year old girls to even talk to me never mind sleep with me? However on my next trip I may explore a bit more of the country and perhaps even visit the Isaan.
I was recently asked “Have you ever thought what your life would have been like if you had never discovered Thailand?”
That sounds like an excellent subject for my next submission.
There are few authors' works I look forward to as much as yours – and once again, I was not disappointed!