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Angeles City: Same Same But Different Part 4



Black Pagoda Patpong Bangkok

SHIPWRECKED

I decided to try one more bar, and then go back for Miss Perfect Butt, and the bar next door seemed like the obvious place to go. This was another of those half empty bars with few girls and fewer customers. It was narrower than Monsoon Girls with a small stage down one side, and two rows of customer seating down the other. There were six girls on stage wearing white 50’s-style two-piece costumes (in other words, not very revealing). One was fat, another heavy, and the other three OK, but I didn’t fancy any of them. As I looked around I noticed a pass-through to Monsoon Girls – perfect! I could check out Miss Perfect Butt, and if she was still there, and still free, I could invite her into Shipwrecked for a drink. She was, and I did. She had to sign out first, but said it was OK because both bars were under the same management. I bought her a drink (double lady drink, San Mig Light, 300 PHP) and myself another drink, also a San Mig Light, and started to chat her up (I would have liked to have ogled the perfect butt again – but she was sitting on it): Mary-Ann, 23, from Samar (the Isaan of the Philippines). My conversation gradually merged into my barfine interview, but I was cut short by some mumbled excuse about her having to get up a 5 AM to travel to her Province for a holiday. It is the time of year, just after high season, when many bargirls take a break, but I couldn’t help thinking it was an excuse – she didn’t want to go with me! Another! What was wrong? I had applied deodorant to the usual places, scrubbed my teeth, and gargled with Listerine, and I had a big bulge in my trousers (my wallet!) Her drink was finished by this time, and she said she had better sign in again, and hurried away.

It was then that I noticed the guy next to me and the girl he was with – what a stunner! An absolute pearl! Young, fresh-faced, beautifully proportioned. I was (just a little bit) jealous, and even more determined to get a girl for myself – like his, if possible. I scanned the stage, but couldn’t persuade myself to like any of the girls, so in desperation, I asked a waitress if there were any others. She pointed to a group of girls hanging around at the far end of the bar. I had not noticed that area before as I had given all my attention to Mary-Ann, and I was surprised to see that it was quite a large area with a second stage. Back in the day, I guess that both stages would have been packed with girls, but now it was empty. She pointed out a girl who was the petite type I liked, so I asked her to bring her over. Of course, I bought them both a drink and started chatting to them. The dancer’s name was June, and she turned out to be even more petite than I had thought. She was 4’9” and had the tiniest hands and fingers I have ever seen on an adult.

At this point, the guy next to me asked me to help him with his girl as there was something he didn’t understand. He was an Angeles newbie, and was wondering why the barfine was so steep – 100,000 PHP. I looked at the girl, saw her red ID, and explained that he was talking to a cherry girl, and told him all about cherry girls. He could barfine her for the usual 3,000 PHP, but only for bar-hopping, and a blow job if he was lucky. Then I turned my attention back to June. She was good to talk to, and pleasantly touchy-feely, so I began my barfine interview, only to be stopped short once again by what sounded like an excuse: “I have mens.” (menstruation). It might have been true – she was touchy-feely after all – but it happens to be the most common excuse that the girls give if they don’t want to go with you. Two offers of a barfine and no takers! It seemed even more unbelievable when the waitress told me that there had only been one barfine that night. My ego was certainly taking a hammering! Worse, it was coming up to 3:00 AM when most of the bars close.

The guy next to me had paid his bill, and was getting up to leave, so I suggested that we teamed up for one last desperate attempt to get laid, as I knew a bar that opened until 5:00 AM – Dollhouse, which was just across the road. Dave said he didn’t like the girls (they were a bit on the heavy side), but at that time of the evening, it was Hobson’s choice.

 

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DOLLHOUSE

Despite the fact that there were only eight girls on the huge stage, the bar was quite full (probably benefiting from late birds like ourselves) and the atmosphere was good. As we drank our beers, I reminisced about the old days when this was one of the “girl-power” bars with about 20 girls on the stage, and another 20 dancing on the mezzanine above – most of them slim cuties, as well. But it was Dave’s first visit to Angeles, and he seemed happy enough with things as they were. There were another half a dozen girls sitting around the bar, waiting for their turn to dance, and before long I found myself chatting to one. I think she chose me, as she wasn’t my type (plump!) – or maybe I was just desperate! She was from Manila and had been there all of one week. I asked her why she didn’t work in Manila, as barfines were 4,000 there ten years ago, and must be astronomical today. She replied that it was too dangerous, and tried to explain why, but I didn’t get it because of the loud music. We were soon joined by her friend, also from Manila, and also one week in the bar. They were fun to talk to but not my type – too big! I could actually squeeze the rolls of flesh as I put my arms around their waists. Meanwhile, Dave had found himself one of the few slim cuties left in the bar, and they seemed to be getting on really well together. When the drinks were finished, I decided to call it an evening and go back to the hotel. Dave said he was going to barfine his girl, so we exchanged numbers, and I left.

 

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staggered back to The Royal Amsterdam having drunk far more than I intended, and having had my ego battered more than a few times: I was too old! The girls didn’t like me! – I should give this up and sit by the fireside in my carpet slippers back in Blighty. But then I remembered what Stickman has often said on his website – “It’s all about the money” – of course it is! And that thought cheered me up as I crawled into bed at half past five in the morning.

 

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