A short story by Dick Headley
The hotel isn’t top of the line but it isn’t too awful. Simon likes the anonymity. He checks in without being recognized. So far so good.
Only one bag so nothing much to unpack. He showers, changes and out he goes into the Bangkok night. He locates the entertainment plaza easily enough and soon he’s in the thick of the famous Bangkok nightlife. Thanks to a few weeks worth of stubble and a baseball cap pulled down in front nobody recognizes him. Simon wanders around before allowing himself to be ushered into one of the bars by a young lady in thigh length high-heeled black plastic boots with Jimmy Page symbols on them.
He slips into a dark corner. So this is one of the famous Bangkok go-go bars. It looks much as he expected. Central stage area, chrome poles, a line of girls gyrating to disco type music. One of the girls catches his eye and he finds himself smiling back. Why not? She finishes her dance and joins him.
She snuggles up and asks him where he comes from. The moon he says. She doesn’t follow that up. You very hansum man she says. Really? Well he’s not going to fall for lines like that but there is something rather charming about the way she keeps making minor adjustments to her skimpy little outfit. No obvious tattoos thank goodness. Apart from that she doesn’t seem to have a lot to say.
You pay bar?
An older woman has suddenly appeared. The girl’s agent presumably, mamasan or whatever they call themselves. You like this girl? She want go with you. Decision time. There are some minor negotiations with the mamasan…short time? Long time? He decides on the short time option and waits while she changes into street clothes…
Walking back to the hotel with her is a little embarrassing but they certainly aren’t the only inter-racial couple on the street. They even share the lift with two grinning young men from Scunthorpe and their respective companions.
My name Nok says the girl. Nok? OK. With the door safely locked they shower separately. Nok first, then Simon who takes his fanny pack with him to the bathroom. Nok, now wearing nothing but a towel, busies herself with the remote.
Ooo…bik! It has been a long time since Simon’s member has elicited such an excited response. Big? He’s always thought of it as fairly normal. Perhaps she’s comparing it to Asian models she’s come across. Anyway she obviously likes it if the slurping sounds are anything to go by and her raven black hair does fall beautifully over his stomach. What next? Should he let her continue or is he supposed to just flip her over and plunge in? His mind is made up for him. She has deftly unwrapped a condom with one hand and she’s slipping it gently over his knob. Good. He doesn’t want any nasty souvenirs of Bangkok. She certainly has talent. Quite beautiful too in some ways. Such a waste really. Does she have any ambitions? Perhaps she can sing? Her breath smells of garlic but that can be fixed. Nah, don’t start that. Pretty soon she’s sitting on him and moving enthusiastically up and down. Giving pleasure or concentrating on her own, who knows? He slows her down. There’s no rush. Plenty of time to enjoy the sensation and analyze his feelings. What are they precisely?
Guilt? Hardly. A superfluous emotion if ever there was one. He shed the last traces of that years ago. It’s more a kind of detachment, as if he’s part of a TV documentary about single males in Bangkok. He is half-expecting a SWAT team of grim looking feminists to crash through the door. The Daily Mail would have fun with that one. Gotcha Simon! Well-known TV personality caught with pants down.
Meanwhile events have come to a satisfactory conclusion. And that’s it. He watches her dress, gives her 2000 baht plus a little extra to assuage his residual conscience and off she goes into the night. It had been interesting. Sordid but interesting. The money exchange had been very matter of fact and he feels no great sense of shame. In fact he feels no great sense of anything.
Still it was something to think about on the 12-hour flight back to London. Simon lies back in his first class seat and lets his mind wander. It had been an amusing little diversion. Something different. It hadn’t been exactly what he’d been expecting but there had been something about it…the sex itself had been nothing special, just another fxxx really but he’d liked the clandestine aspect. It had added an element of risk, and the monetary transaction had an interesting dimension. He might do it again sometime. Is the cell phone on or off? On obviously because he’s just starting to doze when he gets a call from Justin. You need a new battery mate. Where the fxxx are you? Not telling. OK but I’ve got a pile of stuff here you need to sign and FOX are mumbling about a new contract. Fxxx FOX. Fxxx ’em all. There must be more to life than television.