The Brokenman Is Repaired Part 17-3
I am dropped at Udon Thani airport by my ex-wife Nat. The day before she had bought me a pink polo shirt and insisted I wear it to travel to Bangkok. I protested that wearing pink implied I was a shirt lifter but she insisted it was the new king’s colour and would be well received in Bangkok. Well received by sausage jockeys I thought but didn’t argue as she had the best intentions. To be honest I looked quite good in pink which was rather disturbing.
The Thai Smile flight to Bangkok was uneventful and once through baggage reclaim I take an AOT limo to Pattaya. I despair at the poor standard of driving in Thailand even with professional drivers, and the drive is quite scary. We stop for a toilet break and I am amused as I go to take a piss to see a sign on the disabled facility as a “cripple toilet”. Only in Thailand?
I check in at the Opey de place, a pleasant little hotel off Soi Buakhao I stay at every visit. I am given a pool-side room on the third floor. At 6.00 I take a shower, slip on a drinking shirt and make my way to the nearby LK Metro entertainment area. I am meeting my old pal Mark, the legendary Union Hill, at the Climax bar and could just imagine his reaction if I had turned up in a pink shirt. We pick up the conversation as if I had seen him only yesterday rather than 14 months ago, which is the way with old friends.
After catching up on our respective tales we take a stroll to the Champagne bar. There are a few pretty girls and a few beers are imbibed. I hadn’t eaten all day and I was keeping up with Mark’s legendary thirst. By time Mark left I was seriously pissed and no idea how I got back to the Opey.
After breakfast in the Devonshire I take a swim and sleep all afternoon. I later take a pleasant fish and chips dinner in the Jolly Friar. I was meeting my old pal Keith in the Drunken duck. I was worried about him as last year he was made redundant from his job in the oil industry. However, I need not have worried, he is an astute fellow and had accrued a few investments in the good times. He explained he had sorted out his assets and was confident he had sufficient resources to last out until his retirement.
When he left I went to Pandora’s for a beer with the legendary Ricki. I pop into Showgirls, buy the mamasan a drink and she ensures I am not unduly hassled for sister drinks and the like (this never worked in Bangkok). They have some pretty girls and a good show. I particularly liked the lift they used to bring the girls down on to the stage.
I must confess I am terrified of the balcony in my room. The handrail is very low and I can well envisage me falling over it when in a state of inebriation. So, it is always with some trepidation I enter the balcony for my last cigarette before going to bed.
Still frustrated that I cannot get on to my email so I could not contact my usual drinking partners Bernie, Sandy and Don and there were a couple of new friends from the Stickman congregation who wanted to meet.
I get a haircut at a saloon opposite the hotel. She is a chatty girl who kept trying to get me to dye my hair but I decline. I had stopped adding the just for men to my hair for a few years preferring the silver white colour it had turned. I (mistakenly?) believe it makes me look more distinguished.
Take a motorcycle taxi to Walking Street and the Secrets bar. The food is very good here so indulge myself in a few Thai dishes. I spot a familiar face who was once the chairman of my club West Bromwich Albion some 20 years ago. I won’t mention his name but I am informed he is now a regular in the bar. Much to his embarrassment I requested I had my photo taken with him just to show my brother who was an admirer of him at the time.
I pop my head into Baccara but notice I am the only farang there. There are some beautiful girls on show but different to last year they are predominantly pale, tiny with braces on their teeth very much in the Yippon style and not to my taste.
I visit the Sapphire bar which is I consider the best go-go bar in Pattaya if not in Thailand. They have 4 distinct teams graded by the height of the girls with some real lookers, nothing less than a 7 with a couple of solid 9’s on show. I am joined by a cute little skinny girl who is clearly a member of the munchkin squad but a real lovely lass and one of the prettiest I have seen. I buy her a few drinks and ask to take her away. Unfortunately, she informs me she is going home to Nakon Somewhere that evening so is unavailable. I reflect this is typical of my luck this year….if I was thrown in a bath full of tits I would emerge sucking my thumb.
The next day I have a leisurely time around the pool at my hotel swimming and chatting with the interesting characters there. In the evening I make my way to the Secrets bar. After an agreeable meal I buy a few drinks to start the ball rolling with a cutie I thought had potential. I am both surprised and delighted to see an old girlfriend Mo who was now a mamasan there. It was 5 or so years since I had seen her. She was one of the nicest and most generous-hearted women I had been with in Thailand.
In the intervening years she had married a rich Indian gentleman who had allowed her to return to Thailand to work. I recall she had the longest legs I had ever seen on a Thai girl and she laughed at how she remembered I worshipped them with a reverence preserved for a religious icon. She was considerably chubby now but I still had an affection for her. I asked to take her away, and although disappointed I could understand her refusal because of her circumstances.
Later that evening I finally meet up with Paul Mac who I had arranged to meet in the bar. He is a great bloke, and a respected artist who owns a gallery in the city. It is only after a few misunderstandings we finally meet. We get on very well as we have much in common and I know we will eventually become good pals. His interest is painting and a little sculpting but his ex-wife is a Thai lady who owns an esteemed studio/foundry that converts clay sculptures into Bronze statues for a variety of clients including the Thai military. Paul informs me he is still friendly with his ex-wife who had read some of my foundry specific missives and was interested in meeting me to see if I could advise her on some new techniques in her enterprise. She had suggested on my next visit to Thailand I should visit her facility. I was like a dog with two dicks at the thought of this opportunity. Paul left with two girls and I promised to contact him in the next few days.
I make my way to LK Metro and visit Showgirls. I have a drink with the mamasan but on finding she wouldn’t let me bar fine her decide to make my way back to the Opey.
The next day I enjoy a Sunday dinner in the Devonshire. In the evening I explore the Bier Garden on the sea front before making a visit to the Sapphire club. It is enjoyable but notice a couple of western knobs making a nuisance of themselves. I believe the Aussies refer to this species of cretin as bogans which I think is most descriptive. Anyway, they got short shrift from the very professional Thai bouncer who had been observing them and threw them out with great efficiency.
I visit Le Pub, a nice bar owned by Mr Egg, who I know as a Phil because he is a fellow baggies fan and his family live near to me. It is an impressive venue but I don’t stop long as I didn’t fancy the hostess who had collared me. I return to the LK and Pandora’s. When I leave I get dragged into a nearby bar (but forgot the name) by an older woman who was still incredibly sexy but was disappointed that she wouldn’t go with me.
The next day was a Monday and the rain pissed down. I had a seriously dodgy stomach and spent all day on the toilet. I had arranged to meet Paul Mac at his gallery. It is unusual for me to cry off an appointment but was in some discomfort.
I felt little better by the evening so went to Secrets and eat a simple omelette to settle me. The one girl I had been developing over the past few days declared she wouldn’t go with me as she only wanted short time.
I return to LK Metro and visit Scooters bar to find I am totally ignored, even though the bar was almost empty and it was not late, no one would serve me a drink, it was most disconcerting and something I have never experienced before. So, I quickly leave and take a beer at the Billabong bar. I notice they advertise a karaoke in the bar opposite and on seeing it had now closed, wonder why I had not noticed it before. I resolve to explore it on my next visit.
I take a last beer in the Climax bar and get myself settled, however when I am served by woman who looks like my old friend Julie the current mayor of West Bromwich and arguably the ugliest woman in the world, I felt it was time to go home and sleep.
The next morning, I take an early taxi to the airport. There was a delay to my flight due to the mother of all storms at the airport. I eventually depart the land of smiles and take the long miserable flight back to Blighty.
As I mentioned in an earlier missive I was a little disappointed with my time in Bangkok. This does not mean I will not visit again but am resolved that I will have to change my stratagem on subsequent trips. I acknowledge I could start by employing a little self-restraint in my exploration of the go-go bars.
I am somewhat bemused at the comments I received from some readers particularly about my spell in Udon Thani. I enjoy Nat’s company and her role as a tour guide. However, I do recognise her motivation and attempted manipulations but must confess she does not get that much out of me. I suspect that her family (and Thailand in general) undoubtedly take any generosity for granted. I have no illusions, I know that my largesse is largely unappreciated and understand as a farang I am dismissed as worthless except for my money, but no harm done.
I am conscious that when in Thailand we are always on a meter, the rate per hour varying with the location. But if one is mindful of it and keeps it within limits, again, no harm done. I have been visiting Thailand for a few years and appreciate the rules of engagement. There is always a cost to female companionship wherever you are in the world and I do enjoy company. The alternative is to stay in your hotel room in case some naughty Thai people scam you or extract money from your innocent hands. I do ask, where is the fun in that?
Sometimes I wish the sainted Steve Leather hadn’t written Private Dancer prompting everyone who has read it to lecture me on the blindingly obvious. However, I certainly do not take any offence with the comments made, I know they are made by decent blokes with good intentions and I acknowledge I do expose myself with the raw honesty of my reports. I assure you I am not quite the naive idiot I portray but remain surprised my scribblings generate such interest.
My time in Pattaya was relatively quiet principally because I could not communicate with many of the usual suspects due to problems with my email account. So now this has been addressed I ask my old pals to please contact me again sometime.
I have been back in Blighty for over six months. My life in the rust belt of the West Midlands is now nothing like as dire as I reported as little as 3 years ago. In fact, I now enjoy a quite happy existence. I have enough work to keep me solvent and have generated a good reputation that could give me more if I was not quite so lazy. I am no longer billy no mates in my town and my sons tease me that I am somewhat of a celebrity in my town mainly for my singing in all the karaoke pubs in a 3-mile radius.
Besides the friends with benefits status I enjoy with my ex-wife, who has also happily taken over my laundry duties, I relish the relationship I have with a group of attractive intelligent ladies. Despite being firmly in the friend’s zone with them (so will never shag them) they are still extremely agreeable. Being seen with them has given me a (completely unearned) reputation as a lady’s man.
I no longer see visits to Thailand as my only source of female comfort although I will probably still make the annual pilgrimage to the land of vertical smiles. I was hoping to make a trip in December but I am suffering from a painful hernia at present. How I got this I have no idea as I never lift anything heavier than a woman’s petticoat, but I cannot make specific plans until it is operated on. In the meantime, I will have to resume writing my interminable ramblings to the Stickman site.
I no longer feel the level of irrational vitriol to western women I used to have but there are still some observations of perverse female behaviour I wish to examine and discuss on my journey to enlightenment. So, whether you want it or not I have a couple of further submissions to make.
The author can be contacted at : firstname.lastname@example.org