Indulge Yourself In Some Serious Girl Time
I got quite excited when I read that Thailand is to open its borders to foreigners from July 1st. That was until I read what Yuthasak Supasorn, governor of the Tourism Authority of Thailand, had to say on the subject: “They will need to present their health certificates and insurance policies before boarding their flights to Thailand. They will also need to take a COVID-19 test and download a tracking application upon their arrival.”
Sorry, but I’m not prepared to jump through all those bureaucratic hoops! That being the case, it will be a long time before I can write about any new experiences, so over the next few weeks I will be offering up some old ones in a parallel diary/poem format.
The diary entry is from my Bangkok diaries, which have just been published in a book entitled Pussy Struck in the Land of Smiles. This is the result of several weeks work in lockdown, when I have been typing up my old experiences as a substitute for new ones. It worked in one sense: I re-lived those encounters in my mind – though, rather than quench my thirst for new encounters, it left me wanting more!
The poem is from my Thailand poetry collection entitled Jasmine Kisses. FREE copies of this book are still available. Just email me and I will send you a Kindle version (mobi format).
THE DIARY
At about 10:30 I went to the Dollhouse hoping to see #48, Bright Eyes, whom I had spotted the night before. I saw #45, Big Smile, No 2, Fa, and #44, Giving, but there was no sign of #48 (there never is! The girl I want has always “gone home early”: a euphemism for “barfined” – or not turned up in the first place, overslept, drunk, or giving some lucky guy the “Girlfriend Experience”). Nor was Dan there [my “Gogo Guru” – but more about him in another submission]. Might as well move on, I thought.
Then I saw her: #33 dancing on the single pole near the carousel. A group of drunken Mancunians sitting nearby kept flicking up her skirt and making coarse jokes. They felt her – I felt for her. I could see that she didn’t like it, but she kept smiling. I signalled her to join me and she nodded, but when she left the pole, she went to sit with the Mancunians (it looked as though they were going to buy her a drink to say thank you for putting up with them) – I was too late! So instead of a Thai cutie, I had to console myself with the drunken ramblings of a guy from Oldham. He was going on and on about something which I couldn’t catch at first (he was very broad in addition to being very drunk) but the word “match” kept coming up. Then he pointed at the big screen and I saw footballers in red strips – Man U. He gawped at that screen with more delight than I gawped at the Rainbow 4 girls on my first night in Thailand! I couldn’t believe it! Here he was, in the best gogo bar on the planet (that’s how I thought of Dollhouse in those days) and all he could think of was the match. I mean, he could watch the match at any time in any pub back in boring old Blighty – but where else could he see a line-up of girls like this? – every one of them available for less than the price of a ticket for Old Trafford!
Eventually, the Mancunians left, and #33 was back on stage. Clearly, they were not barfining types, and had probably moved on to a sports bar where they could watch the match on a bigger screen – good luck to them! At least they were gone, and I still had a chance with #33.
It was exciting just watching her – she’s a lovely mover and has a fantastic body. I smiled at her and she smiled back at me (the smile always does it in Thailand!) and we had great rapport as she went round and round.
At the end of the set she came to join me. I bought her a drink and almost straight away she said, “You pay bar?” It surprised me a bit, as I was expecting the usual T-girl conversation, followed by my barfine interview, and negotiation about how much and how long – but then, I suppose the interview had been conducted by looks and smiles as she went round and round on the carousel. I knew she would stay long time, and I knew she would be satisfied with the usual rate [2000 THB in 2005] (she did and she was).
So I paid the barfine and she went to get changed. She reappeared in tight jeans and figure-hugging T-shirt with the logo: “Indulge yourself in some serious girl-time”. I couldn’t help smiling at that, because that is precisely what I am here to do.
I asked her if she liked dancing. She replied, “Yes, but not a-gogo,” so I took her to the Nana Disco. She was a great dancer and we had fantastic rapport: she anticipated my movements perfectly. When we sat down she did a personal dance for me, often pushing my face into her stomach or breasts, pulling up her T-shirt to reveal a toned midriff, or turning around and wiggling her shapely butt.
After the disco, we went back to the Dynasty where we had a meal. I still don’t understand Thai food, so I let her order it: soup, veg and a pancake of some kind – very spicy, and she added extra spices (she’s a spicy girl!). She put food onto my plate, onto my spoon and even into my mouth! Great! Thai girls really know how to look after a man!
We got talking, and she told me that she was 18, from Chiang Mai, and had been working at the Dollhouse for three months. I told her about myself: I was in the middle of a divorce, and it was costing me a fortune, so I was probably poorer than she was.
Then I did my party piece and read her palm [I know how to do a basic palm reading, but my main reason for doing it is to keep the conversation going, and tease them a bit]. Her palm looked older than her age – perhaps she had worked as a maid – but acting on inspiration, and the effects of the several bottles of Singha I had consumed that evening (not uninfluenced by the lines on her hand) – I told her that she was 30, and had two kids (two faint, short lines below the little finger).
She seemed impressed, and went quiet for a while. Then she admitted it was true. She was not 18, but 33. She usually told her customers that she was 18, because that was what they liked to hear, and clinched the barfine. She went on to tell me about her two kids, a girl, 8, and boy, 10 [was it just a lucky guess? Maybe. But there have been other times when, in an inspired moment, I have said things which have turned out to be true – though I will admit that, more often, I get it wrong].
In the bedroom, she was like she had been in the restaurant, taking care of me in every imaginable way – the more so, because she didn’t have to pretend to be 18 – hide the stretch marks under the sheets, etc. – and could just be herself.
[Two paragraphs of an intimate nature are omitted here].
For a guy who was getting divorced because his wife had ignored him for the last five years, it was heaven!
We woke to thunderous rain. She said she would like to see me again, and I felt the same, so we agreed to meet in the Dollhouse at seven.
* * *
I kept her for the rest of the week, and saw her again on two of my subsequent visits. However, I lost touch with her when I met the love of my life in Pattaya in the following year.
THE POEM
This is the poem I wrote about her – and every word is true! (well, apart from her being a teenager):
“Indulge yourself in some serious girl-time”
Said the slogan on the T-shirt that she wore
(When she got changed after I’d paid barfine).
I saw the words, the T-shirt, and much more
(Midriff and cleavage) thought – was it a sign
To warn me about how I’d lived before? –
No indulgence, no girls – just work, work, work;
No time but overtime – just duty, duty,
To a job where I was treated like a jerk,
And a wife who didn’t offer up the booty.
But somehow I had stumbled on this perk:
A night in heaven with a teenage beauty
Who treated me much better for her fee,
Than boss or wife had ever treated me.
BANGKOK BYRON
The author of this article can be contacted at : rumblejungle2019@gmail.com
