A Yukon Miner Visits the Land of Smiles
Bangkok Byron earned his pen-name by writing poetry (or should that be “doggerel”) about the ladies in the Land of Smiles. As he is not the greatest poet on the planet, he likes to plagiarise the laureates of long ago (no – to be fair to him, he does not plagiarise because he admits his sources). This one was inspired by Robert Service’s most famous ballad: The Shooting of Dan McGrew. Service’s ballad describes what happens when a Yukon miner visits the Malamute Saloon. This version describes what happens when he visits a gogo bar in Bangkok.
A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon;
The kid that handles the music-box was hitting a jag-time tune;
Back of the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew,
And watching his luck was his light-o’-love, the lady that’s known as Lou…
—ROBERT SERVICE
A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Rawhide gogo bar;
And the gogo dancers dreamed of romances with rich men from afar.
Back of the bar, in the mezzanine, sat Dapper Dan McGrew,
With his new teerak, who was stroking his back, the bargirl that’s known as Moo.
When out of the night, which was humid and hot, and into the cold air-con,
There stumbled a miner fresh from the creeks who was hoping to get it on.
He looked like a man with a foot in the grave and he had an unpleasant smell,
Yet he tilted a pile of baht on the bar, and he grunted and rang the bell.
He heard the girls roar, for never before, had a man rang the bell – it’s true!
And we drank his health, and the first to drink was Dapper Dan McGrew.
Now, a Thai girl’s plan for a ‘hansum man’ is to make him her ATM;
He can cut a dash with his pile of cash as long as he spends it on them.
And it doesn’t matter if the man is fatter than Santa, or Buddha (or me),
If he’s bald, if he’s old, or his heart’s not of gold, as long as he pays the fee.
But it’s not good enough to look like a scruff and smell like you’ve just done a fart;
A Thai girl’s boy must be riap roi (which means well-showered and smart).
The miner was thirty, but he looked dog dirty, like a man who had been on the run,
With a face most hair, and the dreary stare of a dog whose day is done.
But the pile of baht made up for that, at least in the mind of Moo,
So she went to him and she stroked his chin and she said, “Hi, who are you?”
He said, “I’m a miner from North Carolina. Can we share a drink and a smooch?”
She said, “I think mine’s a lady drink. What will you have?” and he said, “Hooch.”
The mamasan came (a devious dame) and told him, “We don’t sell that.
We can sell you a Singha or a Heineken or a Chang for a hundred baht.”
Then he said with a wink, “Jeez, I’d sooner drink in the Malamute saloon!”
But he looked at those pearls of dancing girls and he quickly changed his tune:
“No, I’d rather sit here with a tasteless beer that ain’t worth the price of a buck,
Where I know that I can easily buy a gogo girl for a f…friend.”
The drinks arrived and Moo connived to stay there sat on his knee,
And she picked hers up to take a sup and she said to him, “Chok dee!”
She wanted to know how far he would go so she felt his trouser bulge –
Not for his d*ck but to see how thick was his wallet, his wealth to divulge.
“I’m prospecting for gold, but the truth be told, there ain’t much gold round here.
I panned the Mekong and Chao Phraya but they’re not like the Yukon I fear.”
She fluttered her eyes and expressed surprise and showed him the chain round her neck.
“That’s 24 carat Thai gold,” she said, and he felt it and said, “What the heck!”
Then she showed him the stuff in her ears and her muff and her bellybutton (so cute)
And he understood: “There ain’t nothing as good in the creeks at Malamute.
But how did you get so much gold, my pet?” “That’s nothing. I’ve got even more!
I dance on the stage for a very good wage, though, believe me, I am no whore.”
“I dance on the stage for a very good wage and if a man thinks I shine
He can pay a fee to go out with me – that fee is called a barfine.
And if I stay for the night, next day he’ll give me a generous tip,
And if I’m lucky (and good f**ky, f**ky) he’ll see me again next trip.
And if he’s a good ’un, then through Western Union, he’ll send me a monthly wage –
And that’s how I hold so much valuable gold for just dancing upon the stage.”
The miner jumped up like a playful pup and declared, “That’s better than panning!
And if I had known, before I was grown, I’d have changed my whole life’s planning.”
In a sort of rage he climbed on the stage and he started to shake his booty.
On the chromium pole he looked like a troll because he hadn’t the beauty;
But he knew how to move, how to grind and groove, and he seemed in a kind of trance.
It is strange to say, as I watched him sway: my God! but that man could dance!
Were you ever out in a gogo bar when the stage was full of girls?
And they danced and swayed on the stage arrayed like string of precious pearls,
And they hugged the poles and they gave their souls to making you feel good,
And you wished you had a big enough wad to barfine them all if you could,
While stroking your thing was sweet poo-ying making you feel ten feet tall –
Then you’ve a hunch what his dancing meant (though it wasn’t like theirs at all).
The bunch of boys were watching him dance and they all called out for a joke:
“You’re cuter than Moo!” “I’ll barfine you!” “Will you come to my room for a poke?”
“Hey! You’ve got class!” “I like your ass!” “I’ll buy you a lady drink!”
“I’ll take you to bed, you can give me head – well, you could if you didn’t stink!”
But the only bloke who didn’t joke was Dapper Dan McGrew.
He said, “Be mine! I’ll pay barfine – I will, and I mean it, too!”
The miner stopped and his features dropped and he suddenly ran away.
He was poor, he was needy and excessively greedy, but he certainly wasn’t gay.
And just to make sure he’d escaped from the boor he decided to get him a girl.
So he looked around until he had found one with whom he could give it a whirl.
She was rather tall, but best of all, she had a big pair of tits.
“Now that, to me, is a real girlie,” he thought and was thrilled to bits.
Now I’m sad to say that he’s on his way to satisfy his desire.
He’s escaped the frying pan it’s true, but now he’s jumped in the fire.
He’s in for a shock, the worse in Bangkok that a visitor ever can suffer,
But the blame is all his, I’m sure of this, for behaving like a duffer:
If he’d learned some Thai he’d understand why you should always avoid a katoey
’Cos he’ll find out soon that his cute bit of poontang isn’t a girl – but a BOY!
BANGKOK BYRON
If you enjoyed the poem, there are many more like it in my collection, Jasmine Kisses. For the next two weeks, FREE copies will be available. This is an exclusive offer to readers of this website, and the other website I contribute to, Farang Explorer. To get your free copy, email me at the address below, and I will send you a Kindle version (mobi format) – no need to worry about me being overwhelmed with requests. As this is poetry, I’m expecting half a dozen at most!
The author of this article can be contacted at : rumblejungle2019@gmail.com
