Stickman Readers' Submissions July 3rd, 2020

P4P in Singapore

I used to think that Thai girls were the most beautiful in the world – until I was posted to Singapore a few years ago. Now I think that the Singaporeans have that honour. They are mainly of Chinese ethnicity, with petite bodies and well-sculpted features, and are also well educated, well dressed and truly feminine in their demeanor. I also like their creamy pale skin (and don’t get me wrong, I can equally appreciate an Isaan girl’s copper brown, or a Filipina’s kayumanggi, golden brown).

When I was relocated, my company paid for one week in a luxury hotel on Orchard Road. After that, it was up to me. It took me nearly a month to find an apartment, and in the remaining three weeks I found myself slipping further and further down the food chain of hotels until I ended up in the cheapest I could find, a Hotel 81 (Hotel 81 is a chain of budget hotels) in Geylang.

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That’s how I discovered the cheaper end of P4P in Singapore. It began to dawn on me when I was joined in the lift by a couple of a certain type: the man noticeably older than the woman, and the woman dressed in what can best be described as “slutwear”.

I went out at about nine for meal, and was astonished to find a long row of girls lining one of the side roads, and several punters sitting on the wall of the hotel frontage, drinking beer and eyeing them up. I checked them out myself and there were several young and attractive women, mostly Indonesian and Malaysian, with (I think) a smattering of Filipinas. Most of the punters seemed to be Malaysian.

I found out later, by asking around, that it is illegal in Singapore for girls to pick up men on the street, and that every now and then the police will sweep them up and fine them. I also learned that the short time price ranged from 50 to 100 SGD (this was a few years ago), and the cost of a Hotel 81 room was 80 SGD (1 SGD = approx. 50 pence). That is a considerable outlay for a Malaysian worker, who might only earn 500 SGD per month (so I hope the girls gave good bang for bucks!).

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When I got settled into my job, it was inevitable that one of the old stagers in the office would drag me along to the “four floors of whores”, Orchard Towers. I had heard about this building, which operates as a mall in the daytime and an entertainment venue at night, and, as it was in Singapore, imagined that the bars and clubs in there would be better than Thailand’s best – smart, sophisticated, glitzy. They weren’t. On my first visit, one of the escalators wasn’t working, and the whole place had a down-at-heel look. The #1 bar/disco, Ipanema World Music Bar, was quite scruffy inside. I’d imagined it might be something like the newly renovated glass and chrome Baccara in Soi Cowboy, but it was more like the rough and raw Rawhide – except that the “girls” were even rougher. They were, on average, older, heavier, and mostly unattractive. They also seemed to have a hard attitude. I was hit on in a quite pushy way four or five times within ten minutes of entering the bar. Some of the forums had reported (glowingly) that many Thai girls came there for a short visit to boost their income, but I didn’t see any (I later found that Immigration was having a crackdown on this kind of visitor).

Ted, the colleague who’d dragged me there, said it we’d do better in Bongo. This place certainly had a better atmosphere, and the promise of a band later on, but there were only about six women, all of them plumpers – by the way, this is not a contradiction of my praise for Singaporean women, as the women in these bars are mostly freelancing maids from Malaysia, Indonesia and the Philippines.

When we’d finished our beers, Ted said he’d take me to a place where he knew for sure there were some real cuties – but I would need to watch my credit card. Credit Card? I’d never associated P4P with credit cards before! But hey, this is Singapore!

He took me to Club Eureka, which is a buy-me-a-drink bar. These bars are the worse rip off in Singapore, as you will see from my description of what happened. We sat at a small round table, and were soon joined by two hostesses who requested lady drinks. So far, so good, except that the lady drinks were 54 SGD each! Customers were in short supply, so it was not long before both Ted and I were joined by two of their friends, so each round of drinks cost us 108 + 15 for our own drinks – serious money!

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Ted was right about one thing though, the girls were attractive. Mine were two friends from the Philippines, and soon we were chatting about places we knew. Then the action started. They kissed and caressed me and, after a while, suggested that we move to a more private seat in a dark corner where they promised that they would “make me cum”. Now, I’m not very good at mental arithmetic at the best of times, and I was onto my fourth beer (a 500cc, so-called “pint”), and the girls had made a start on their promise. Nevertheless, my fuddled brain worked out that I had already spent 246 SGD on them, and remembered that the rate for full service in Ipanema was 250 SGD for one of the best girls (with the possibility of a discount at a late hour). Anyway, why would I want to cum in my pants, when I could pay a bit extra and cum in a nice, cumfortable c*nt? (Actually, I had no intention of doing either, because I was “being good”, and was “just looking”, as I had only recently got married). So I told the girls I had no more cash left and was going to go. They panicked at this and, at the same time as increasing the friction on my groin, explained that I could use my credit card. My mind boggled. I can only imagine the kind of bill you could rack up on a credit card if you got carried away.

I took a deep breath, made a strenuous effort of will, and stood up to go. I looked around for Ted, and saw that he was in that dark corner. I signalled to him to come, but he gave me a glazed look and shook his head (he was obviously about to “come” in a different sense of the word).

So now it was just me and the four floors of whores. I wandered around for a bit, found a good spot on the top floor balcony where you could look down the cleavage of the girls entering Ipanema on the floor below, lingered awhile, enjoying the show, then went into Country Music, as it looked like a good place for a quiet drink.

A little later, I popped back to Club Eureka and could just make out Ted in the far corner with those two girls wrapped around him. There were several glasses on his table, and I dreaded to think what his bill must be by now.

I went for another look round and ended up in Top 5. This is a very big bar right at the top of the complex, but it seems that not many people get that far because there was only one other customer. I was quite taken by a voluptuous Ukrainian pole dancer. She was not naked (nudity is illegal), but her bikini left little to the imagination. It was a pleasure just to look at her – or would have been, if I had not been pestered by three girls, also Ukrainian and also very pretty, but there is no way I would buy any more lady drinks at Singapore prices. I couldn’t help reflecting that it is a stupid business model. If you price something too high, the customer will simply do without, as I did. If lady drinks prices had been more reasonable, I might have bought one, or even all of them, a drink, so that I could have enjoyed their company for a while.

I would have stayed longer, but was effectively pestered out of there, so I went to see what was happening with Ted. There were even more drinks and bottles on his table, but he was at that moment sipping a headier brew in the shape of DFK with one of his girls.

I decided to try a few more bars, then give him one more try and go back by myself if necessary. I looked into Peyton Place which was full of average looking girls, but no customers, with the result that I felt like a swimmer in a pool full of Piranhas, and left sharpish.

I tried a few other bars before finally settling into Bongo, as, by this time, the band was playing. There was a pleasant atmosphere, no hassle from girls and the band was good, so I stayed for a while.

I ended my evening at Blue Banana, a basement bar. This turned out to be the best bar of the whole evening, and the best prospect if you want to pick up a girl. There were two sorts of girls in there – the usual pestiferous hostesses, and a large number of Filipino maids enjoying their evening off. It was so crowded that I had to sit in an awkward corner, but as soon as a better place became available, the waitress moved me. It was a table just in front of the stage, which was not raised, but a marked-off area of the floor. A band alternated with customer dancing, and I had a good view of both. Better still, on the other side of my table were two Filipinas. One was homely, but the other was young and attractive. She looked to be in her mid twenties and had a cute, pussycat face. She had a magnificent head of hair which she kept playing with in a sensuous fashion, and full breasts, which heaved upwards and outwards when she put up her arms to lift her hair. Well, how could I resist? When the next round of dancing started, I asked her to dance, and she accepted. I found out that her name was Leah and that she worked as a maid. Later, I bought her and her friend drinks (at standard drinks prices as they were not hostesses), and chatted to them. They told me that the hardcore girls go to Ipanema and similar bars to look for customers, but most of the girls in Blue Banana just wanted a drink, a dance and a chat with friends.

It was past one by then, and time to go. I took Leah’s number, and went to look for Ted. I spotted him coming down the stairs (the down escalator was broken) as I was going up the escalator, and called him to wait for me.

I found that he was much put out. “The scamsters!” he growled. “They took me for over 600 dollars, and I’ve got nothing to show for it except sticky pants and stinky fingers! They kept promising they would come home with me, give me a double blowjob, 69, and sex, doggy-style, side by side…” (I hadn’t realised that Ted had such an extensive menu of desires – he was such a quiet guy in the office!) “…but when it came to the crunch, they wriggled out of it with half-assed excuses!”

That, of course, is how these buy-me-a-drink bars work, and Ted had been here long enough to know that. But those girls are like sirens. They lure you in, and once they get their hands on you, it’s very difficult to escape.

I had a few similar nights out with Ted, in the course of which I revisited Blue Banana (in the hope of bumping into Leah again – I didn’t), and Ipanema (to see if it was any better – it wasn’t). I also discovered the Filipinas that hang out at Lucky Plaza on Sunday afternoons (and can sometimes be picked up for the evening), and places like BRIX where the upmarket hookers party (with upmarket prices!). However, I never participated (honest!) and even when my marriage went pear-shaped, I wasn’t tempted. The P4P scene in Singapore is, in my limited experience, horrible, hard, and vastly over-priced. It’s a different matter if you are young and single, and have those qualities that are necessary to attract a real Singaporean girlfriend (the proverbial “5 c’s” – cash, car, condo, credit card, country club), but for people like me and Ted, it’s better to save up and take that trip to Thailand.

The author of this article can be contacted at :

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