Readers' Submissions

The Brokenman is Repaired Part 15/2

  • Written by Phet
  • February 19th, 2015
  • 19 min read


Black Pagoda Patpong Bangkok



Part 2 A Pilgrimage to Pattaya

After a pleasant few days in Bangkok I had planned a pilgrimage to Pattaya and had booked the Nana Hotel limo service for the trip. They operate aged Volvos which hadn’t been made in Sweden since Abba was last in the charts. The drivers are equally elderly, drive carefully and allow me to smoke in the backseat. I was therefore a little disappointed to find this time a modern car and a cocky young driver. It didn’t take long for my misgivings to be realised. He whined about my smoking, drove too fast and treated the car like it was an extension of his penis. Impatient with the delays on the motorway he took a short cut through the Chonburi countryside. After an hour driving pothole strewn roads through quarries we ended up almost exactly where we originally left the motorway. Although this detour was annoying enough I finally snapped when he began texting whilst driving and insisted he desist immediately.

Needless to say he did not get a tip.

By mid afternoon we arrived at the Opey de place off Soi Buakhao, a pleasant small modern hotel I had stayed for many years. The rooms are basic but clean and with efficient air-con units. I checked in, unpacked, took a nap and by 6.30 PM was showered and suitably attired for a night in Sin City.

I took a motorbike taxi to Walking Street. I was not certain if my driver was a girl or just a very pretty boy but she / he deposited me efficiently at the entrance to the promenade of pleasure. I take the few yards to the Secrets bar and settle myself in a seat near the door. I was disappointed not to see Mo, my long legged hostess from previous visits, but I am soon joined by an attractive hostess who introduced herself as Jade. Feeling a little peckish I ordered a Tom Yum Kung and the entertaining young lady engaged me in a little pleasant conversation. Her English was extremely good with a slight American accent.

My old Ocker pal Bernie appeared at the door and immediately joined me. I was delighted to see him as he is always great company. He has enjoyed a varied and interesting life from sheep shearing in the outback to owning a holiday resort. Now in his 70s he dedicates his energies and organisation abilities to running charities in the city. He took me to the Windmill, an establishment I had never visited before. It certainly gave the expression “eating at the Y” a new perspective. We had a trawl around a few bars including Happy A Go-go which I found impressive.

Bernie is a bit of a philosopher and his observation that the only reason blokes get married in Thailand is to have someone to cheat on is worthy of the quote of the week. We end up in the Casanovy near the Walking Street entrance. It is a decent bar with some delicious tall girls on display but the excessive techno beat ruined the effect somewhat. As Bernie made his way home I reflect I always feel a little uplifted after I have been in his company.

I took a motorbike taxi to my hotel but stopped at the LK Metro for a last beer and settled myself in the big Aussie bar in the centre of the complex. I am joined by a veteran Thai lady who on receipt of a drink proceeded to tell me her life story. I staggered back to my nearby hotel but after 100 yards the pain in my legs forced me to take a rest. As I sat on the kerb waiting for my circulation to return I realised my walking problem exposed me as a potential target to any passing miscreants. For the first time in all my visits I felt a little apprehensive, if not a tad worried. I however made it safely back to my hotel with no incident but resolved to plan my future perambulations with a little more deliberation.

The next day I woke, my spirits restored and took a light repast in the hotel. I had recently been in contact with an old friend who was now living in Jomtien. I had not seen Jeff for 30 years since we had been at Chesterfield College together. His first job on graduation was at a foundry in my hometown and my mother gave him a bed for a month until he got settled. In the intervening years he built a successful career eventually owning a thriving foundry in Southern Ireland until his physician recommended he retire for health reasons. He has lived in Thailand for a few years.

He had wanted to collect me from my hotel early and take me to engage in vigorous activities, probably sea fishing or rifle shooting. I had my suspicions it was merely an excuse to flaunt his success so I declined suggesting we meet later for dinner. When I feel the urge to engage in energetic physical exercise I always sit quietly until the urge passes.

We met up, had a pleasant dinner in the Soi Buakhao area and went for a beer in a couple of bars in Soi Diana. We had an interesting conversation comparing our respective careers since we last met. Although my career has seen more ups and downs than an adolescent’s foreskin he wasn’t excessively condescending about his comparative success. He rejected all my suggestions on where to go next…..Walking Street? (Can’t stand the place) a Go-go? (Never go to them) listen to a band or a karaoke? (Hate them). I become conscious after living in the kingdom a few years he had turned into Condominium Man, staying around the pool in his complex and only drinking at his local in the boondocks. It was a salutary lesson of what living in Thailand can actually involve.

When he returned home to Jomtien I was still thirsty so I made my way to the Aussie bar on LK Metro again and am quickly joined by two interesting ladies. The one girl was a lively big-boned unit but the other was petite and had a beguiling resemblance to the English dancer Bonnie Langford. I must confess I have a fixation about the ageing Bonnie Langford that would have a team of experienced psychiatrists struggling to comprehend. They were both extremely entertaining and I bought them a few drinks. I seriously considered bar fining my Bonnie Langford lookalike but knew I would be serving boneless pork that night as once again I had had far too much to drink. She would keep for another time.

I woke the next morning conscious that I had been drinking like a Soviet submariner on annual shore leave since my arrival in Thailand. I resolved to moderate my drinking and take a little gentle exercise. I spent a pleasant afternoon in the hotel pool and felt much better for it.

That evening I took a motorbike taxi to Walking Street. As I dismounted I am admonished by one of the tourist police volunteers for not wearing a helmet. I decide not to argue and make my way to Secrets for a spot of dinner. I am again joined by Jade, the pleasant hostess from the previous evening; it was nice to have someone to eat with. After a pleasant repast I took my leave to explore a few Walking Street establishments and find myself in the Beach Club. I was interested to note that the Beach Club employ male dek serves which worked very well. I had been trying to understand the new bar dynamics for a few days especially this coyote dancer phenomena. I think I have established that go-go dancers wear bikini bottoms whilst coyotes sport Daisy Duke Shorts.

One bar in Soi Diamond had a show with one girl performing the balloon bursting trick with great accuracy. She sported a very good body but had a face like that old boiler Edna Birch in Emmerdale. I made my way to FLB but was disappointed to see it under refurbishment. I sat in one of the few tables they had remaining to observe the hordes of Chinese and Korean tourists. I am convinced the city authorities will eventually rename Walking Street as Gawping Street. I decided to leave said Street but put my head in at ZAB to see an Isaan band playing. I find Isaan music fascinating but I am always bemused why the male singers are always such big soft Jessie’s.

I again find myself in the Aussie bar in LK Metro but unfortunately the two girls I was interested in the previous evening were not to be seen. I make my way to Champagne and just as I get settled a fight breaks out between two farang men. It was merely hand bags at dawn and was soon sorted with great efficiency by the Thai bouncers. I spy a very small dancer on stage who takes my fancy. She is tiny and I reckon she weighs little over 35 kg. If you are willing to ignore my penchant for dressing Thai ladies in West Bromwich Albion shirts (small youth size) I don’t have many perversions. However I do have a weakness for petite ladies that would have our metaphorical psychiatrists reaching for the reference books.

I bar fined the little lady with indecent haste. As expected as soon as we leave the bar her first priority is food. What was unexpected was her choice of a kebab. I reflect that a few years ago her preference would have been some Isaan concoction from a street vendor served in a plastic bag…. such have times changed. Back in my room she stripped down to reveal that although she was tiny she had a perfectly proportioned body. She also possessed a Djihm like a puckered pin prick which once connected precipitated events prematurely. I was not unduly concerned, my multispeed monger's little helper had her screaming in delight and suitably refreshed I would deliver an England performance in the morning. I woke early, popped a Cialis, took a shower, came out of the bathroom in a state of impressive tumescence only to find my pocket princess dressed and ready to leave. Mai pen rai just doesn’t cover it.

Had a lazy day and took a motorbike taxi to the Royal Garden Plaza. There were not many shoppers and I was disappointed to see there was no eye candy to ogle as there had been in previous visits. I was particularly upset to find the bookshop I had always frequented was also gone.

That evening I once again made my way to Walking Street and the Secrets bar. I am once again joined by Jade. This evening I was not meeting any friends so gave her my undivided attention. She was a charming and attractive girl with a very broad smile that seemed to reach from ear to ear. I put her in her mid thirties but I could have been five years out either way. When I asked about her American accent she explained she had worked as a nanny for an American family in Bangkok for eight years. Her charge had recently turned 16 so her services were no longer required. A cousin suggested she come to Pattaya which she did a month or so ago.

She was a good-natured and talkative little minx with a fund of interesting tales which included an account of her training as a classical Thai dancer. Her graceful demonstration of the hand movements was enough to convince me. I was quite taken with her and offered to pay her bar fine. She claimed to have not seen anything of Pattaya outside of Secrets bar since her arrival so I took her to Angelwitch. She was curious and asked me numerous questions about how the girls who worked these bars operated. After the show finished I asked if she wanted to see anything in particular and rather than the ubiquitous “leu te khun” (up to you) she requested I take her to the Bamboo bar on the corner of South Pattaya Road and Walking Street. She explained it was where her friend had met her boyfriend and she was inquisitive to see what it was like.

The Bamboo bar was an interesting venue crammed with revellers dancing to the live bands. Although somewhat primitive it was large, lively and certainly not without a simple charm. With a fair share of ageing western Lotharios, freelancers and antediluvian Thai ladies it was fascinating from an anthropological aspect. For a moment I thought I was at a “grab a granny night” back in my home town.

Jade was also fascinated with the place and continued to express her curiosity. She asked me all kinds of questions about Thai farang interactions which were most novel for a girl employed as a hostess. She was also infatuated with cosmetic surgery and described some of the procedures one of her friends had had done to her nose and eyes. She laughed and declared it had actually made her look like a ladyboy. She then proceeded to point out a number of ladies she considered had undertaken similar surgery. I could see what she meant. After an hour I suggest a change of scene so we repair to the ZAB bar at the entrance to Walking Street.

The Isaan band was in full swing. Jade was thrilled to hear the music of her childhood and her smile was so wide I thought her face would fall apart. She gave me a demonstration of the difference between the vivacious Isaan dancing and classical Thai style which appeared to be how closely the hands passed during their movement in the dance. I must confess I was mesmerised by the graceful balletic nature of both styles. Seeing her joy I knew I had done the right thing in taking her to this bar. When it was time to go I suggested we take a baht bus but she insisted we both jump on the same motorbike taxi. It was certainly an interesting journey back to my hotel.

Back at the Opey she stripped down to reveal she had a fuller figure than the two petite ladies I had previously encountered but was still lovely and unblemished by tramp stamps. The hair on her mudgeon was only lightly trimmed and in fact was quite hirsute which is now unusual amongst bar girls. With extremely sensitive nipples she responded quickly and was soon as damp as a mermaid's flannel. Once connected her dancer's muscle ensured an untimely conclusion but my subsequent employment of Mr. Tongue had her screaming out in next to no time. To my surprise she claimed she had never experienced that delight before. I had come across this claim previously but was curious how an experienced girl had not received this attention. It turned out she was not particularly experienced and explained that Thai men never do it and the few farang men she had been with had merely given it a tentative lick before rolling over and falling asleep.

We had a pleasant breakfast the following morning in the Devonshire opposite the hotel. Jade was as chatty and amusing as the previous evening and entertained me with some further tales about her dysfunctional friends. She predicated most statements with “my friend says”. She also described her experiences working as an extra on a couple of blockbuster movies that were filmed in the Kingdom. It was midday before she left me to do those things that Thai girls do.

That evening I once again made my way to the Secrets bar. I was meeting Al, another member of the Stickman fellowship. Al is an educated and cultured Indian fellow with whom I have shared some entertaining emails. He has led an interesting life including working as steward on the Liverpool to Belfast ferry in his time. He arrived on time accompanied by an elegant and delightful Thai wife. In the flesh he was more urbane and charming than I expected. Once settled we had a fascinating conversation. His home city in India is a major centre of the castings industry and he sought advice on a casting problem one of his business colleagues was experiencing. We also discussed some business opportunities which included a potential teaching assignment with some of the foundries in the city. We also exchanged some interesting philosophies on life in general.

I was sad when Al and his wife took their leave but he left me with a final observation “When you have finally got mongering out of your system my wife knows many educated friends she could introduce you to”. It was definitely food for thought and prompted a mild epiphany that I may need to review my current motives. This trip was the first for some years I had not arranged to meet any ordinary ladies I had met on the ThaiCupid website. My source of ordinary Thai girls had dried up.

No sooner had they gone when I am joined by another chap who inquired if I was Phet and introduced himself as Sandy, a fellow Stickmanite. He had read of my plans to visit in my last submission. Being friends with the manager of Secrets he had asked if anyone came in he didn’t recognise to notify him. He introduced me to Phil the manager who turned out to be from my hometown and a fellow West Bromwich Albion fan. We exchanged a few snippets of gossip about our beloved Baggies and Phil informed me a popular ex-chairman of the club was a frequent visitor to the bar.

Sandy is a well read and agreeable English fellow a little older than me and a veteran of numerous Thailand campaigns. He offered to take me to Private Dancer, the bar with its theme based on the legendary Stephen Leather novel. As I entered the bar I am greeted by Ricky, the manager. Ricky has managed many bars but he remembered me from when he managed the Angelwitch almost ten years ago. We exchanged a few tales and I recalled he was friendly with Rick who ran the Nana Disco in those days. This prompted him telling me an interesting story about the venue in its latest iteration. Incited by a rare moral imperative or the usual hypocrisy about prostitution the Thai authorities decided to raid the disco one evening under a public health pretext.

Expecting to find poor Isaan girls engaged in prostitution trying to earn a living they discovered it was not dark skinned underprivileged women but light skinned hi-so girls that that were arrested. The daughters and nieces of the Thai-Chinese establishment were on the game earning money for their smart phones and designer clothes. Whether the story was true or not the thought of the embarrassment experienced by the cocksure supercilious Thai upper classes I found quite delicious. <Fair-skinned perhaps, but certainly not genuine high society typesStick>

On leaving them I find myself in the Super Baby A Go-go. I was pleased that three of the dek serve ladies remembered me from previous visits. I recall it being arguably the best bar in Pattaya but although they still had some pretty girls there was not a single customer other than me that evening.

I took a look at the new Baccara bar and must admit I was very impressed. The line up had dozens of beautiful stunning girls and fielded no girl with a rating less than 7 out of ten. There were two or three of the girls who would warrant a comfortable 8 or 9. I can safely say this bar is now definitely the number one go-go in Pattaya and by a country mile. The only criticism is it is a little narrow on one side and they have those annoying young men in the toilets passing towels and massaging you to elicit tips.

I got back to my hotel and the young girl on reception asked “no lady tonight?” There goes my reputation as a respectable older gentleman, I thought.

On Saturday evening as I entered the Secrets bar I am immediately collared by Phil the manager who seems excited over something. He informs me he had the TV code for the WBA v Villa game scheduled for 10.00 that evening and had reserved a seat for me in front of the nominated screen. Aston Villa and West Bromwich Albion are fierce local rivals; their grounds are less than 3 miles apart and have enjoyed a rivalry for 137 years.

This news evoked memories of the last time I watched this local derby whilst in Thailand. It was April 2011; I was in bed in the Nana Hotel watching the game on TV. I had a sweet-natured, soft-bodied young girl lying naked in my arms with her hand firmly on my todger. My beloved Baggies had beaten the Villa 2 : 1, the first time we had won in 26 years which also gave us the three points that guaranteed Premiership survival. At the time I thought life just does not get any better!

As I got myself settled Jade joins me and explains she has already been barfined along with most of the girls for a party for a high roller. However, as the party was not until 10.00 she asked if she could sit with me for a while. I ordered food for us including a delicious fish dish which Jade proceeded to remove from the bone for me. Thai pop music was playing instead of western rock, all the girls were happy and all was right with the world.

The game kicked off and Jade slipped away to her duties. At half time I am joined by Dan, a Stickman reader who inquired if I was Phet. He explained he had asked the manager if he knew of me and apparently Phil had told him I was Stickman’s assistant. We laughed at this and he joined me. He described how he and his pal Richard were big fans of the Stick site in general and my contributions in particular. Dan was Irish but lived in London. He was a most engaging fellow and I enjoyed his company. The Albion comfortably beat Villa 1 : 0 and I felt like a dog with two dicks and a bladder full of piss in a street full of lampposts.

I ended up in LK Metro all mongered out. I reflect there are hundreds of beautiful girls in Pattaya. It is a definite plethora of Pulchritude but sometimes it is like a sea of pretty faces, long black hair and small breasts that all blend into a wave that crashes over you overpowering the senses. Maybe I am getting old but I am now finding the older, interesting ladies have more attraction for me.

I made my way back to my hotel for an early night. The next day I was flying up to Udon Thai for a few days. I was finally going to get a glimpse of the Isaan.