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    by Fiedee on August 9, 2010

    in General

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    Speech! Speech! You want to know where I am. I’m attending this here speech making event. I’m taking this opportunity to talk to you. I want to tell you about it and what’s going on here. Oh, you’re groaning. Sorry. How about this then: How would you like the chance to have some free booze and grub in the company of some good looking and charming birds? OK? Back to the speech talk then. Listen. There’s nothing more boring than a speech, except a good one. Who said that?

    How many times have you rolled your eyes and groaned deep within yourself when you know you have to sit through someone else’s speech? How many speeches have you heard that are damn right painful? They go on and on. They don’t stop. They love the sound of their own…What is it? I’ve forgotten.

    How many times do you sit there and keep wondering how you can make a swift, and unseen exit? Sometimes you try. Admit it. You bend down looking embarrassed or you walk out pretending to answer a phone call, or you arrange for someone to call you at that specific time on purpose and you don’t go back.

    Or how about when the proverbial shoe has been on your foot, how many times have you had to make a speech? Did you relish the thought and the opportunity? OK. I can see some of you are nodding. You love it. Listen. Let me warn you right now. If you think you’re good at making speeches, even if you know you are, don’t read the rest of this, unless you want to help.

    Now you’re wondering. Most of the speeches I sit through are extremely boiling. Why? It’s a hot country and sometimes the ac doesn’t work so well, if there is one. Why do I do it? Free food and drink. Oh, and most of the time, there are good looking and charming birds. No other reason. It’s the penalty I pay. Do I like sitting through the speeches? No. But I love the grub and the booze…and the birds…when I don’t have to pay for them.

    Rent a crowd. I’m sitting out there by the roadside minding my own business and geezers, or a geezer, and sometimes a geezest, turn up and invite me to attend some kind of meeting. What meeting? It doesn’t matter. I’ve asked before. They don’t tell. It’s not the point. They’ve organised a meeting. No one turns up. It looks embarrassing for some one or some people. Worse than that: someone might lose face.Then some poor sod might get a private or public good donkey kicking.

    So, what do they do? They rent a crowd. They look for geezers like me, by the road, looking hungry and thirsty with nothing to do. Sometimes they give me a jacket to wear. I think very nice, until they tell me to give it back at the end. Stingy bastards! I don’t tell them that. I just think it. They might not invite me back next time.

    So what happens? You turn up; they give you the jacket; you smile; shake hands and wie. There’s a pre-speech party going on. Enjoy it as much as you can. So, you walk around trying to look important, and for all they know, you could be. It helps if you’re fat. Then they think you’re even more important. Really? Have you noticed that? Of course you have. That’s one of the reasons some of us enjoy being fat. We look rich, powerful, interesting and important. Plus people give us free stuff all the time. All right, back to the pre-speech party.

    My eyes spin around as soon as I get in there. Up and down, left and right. Where’s the grub? Where’s the grub? Where’s the booze? Then, like a hawk, I flap, glide, spot it and drop straight on it, faster than a dog can run. I’m there by the food table pilling it on my plate. I scoff it down as quickly as I can so that I can get some more before anyone else can. Then the booze. What do they have? Wine? Beer? It doesn’t matter. It’s often the cheapest stuff you can find. Beggars are well known for complaining about poor quality free food and drink. Rich people lament about it all the time. I don’t complain. I’m not a beggar. I just get on with it.

    Where’s the booze? Every time a waiter or waitress walks past with someone’s drink, I just grab it. I’m skillful swift. I’m quicker than a dog going for a rabbit. With a flick of an eye, I can see the waiter wants to say no, but I’m too fast; it’s too late and I look too important. They don’t want to upset me. If not, I go straight to the grog stall and pour and pour and just guggle it down.You must have seen me, but maybe you don’t remember.

    All right. I’ve had my grub and I’ve had a skinful of liquor. Now, I’m ready for the birds. Don’t worry. I’ve already spotted them. I saw them as soon as I came through the door, and some since turning up after my arrival, and I’ve already nodded to a few and grabbed some of their lucky hands. I can feel the smoothness, coldness and delicacy of their hands long after I’ve touched them. I hold that memory for a long time. I can even feel it now. They nod, listen, talk, look beautiful and delicate and charm me with their words, their smiles and bodily postures. Why do they do that? As if you had to ask. In a word, for those of you who do not already know, it’s my charisma. It comes with fatness and practice.

    Back to reality. Serious business now. You’ve stuffed yourself, you’ve boozed and you’ve ouzed. It’s pay back time. Now for the speeches. Stop talking and take your eyes off of that woman, will you

    Have you ever attended a speech making event where the speaker has been speaking and hardly anyone has been listening? Hands up. OK. You have. Worse still. Have you ever attended a speech making event where people are not just not listening, but they are talking amongst themselves and in loud, animated voices? Hands up. You have. Why do they do that? Have you ever done that? You have! What! I can’t believe it.

    Horse shoe on the other foot time: Have you ever had to make a speech in that kind of situation? Oh, many of you are putting up your hands. How does it feel? Not good, right? You can’t concentrate. You feel embarrassed. What can you do about it? Tell them to shut up? Sometimes, you can especially if you say it politely and firmly and in a loud voice with a good loud speaker system. Do they like being told not to talk when you’re talking? No. They don’t. They look pissed off as if you’re the one who’s at fault.

    What else can you do? Answer: Try to make an attentively attractive speech. In fact, the speech will be so good, they won’t be able to talk or look at that woman over there, or man, because you’ve got them spell bound. They won’t be able to do that kind of stuff even if they want to. They can’t help themselves. They’re transfixed. Some are like zombies, but others respond in the way you want them to and even more: they laugh, they cheer, they clap, they cry and they embrace. And at the end of it all, they want an encore and when you climb down from your soap box they want to pump your hand, hit you on the back, snog you and hug you, even the men. Wow! Do you want that? OK, some of you do.

    You realise by now, that I’ve attended trillions of speeches. I’ve also had to make quite a few. How do I feel? It depends. If it goes well, I feel good. If it doesn’t, I feel not so good. I never look forward to making them though. Why do I do it? For what I get in return. I don’t speechgo for free. You have to give me something that I want. I call myself a professional speechgoer. That means I attend them, I make them when I have to, I write them for other people and I get paid for it with food and drink in the company of gorgeous birds. That’s why I do it: For what I get in return. It’s not a free lunch, baby.

    Listen. I’ve turned up at events thinking that I was going to listen to someone else, when suddenly someone tells me that I’m the one who has to make the speech. Sometimes to thousands of people. No one told me before. Sometimes they give me ten mintues to prepare the speech and sometimes I’ve just had to make it up extempore. Some call it winging it. Have you been in that situation? Oh, you have, have you. It’s not nice, but it’s exciting. It’s a challenge It gets the blood pumping and the andrenalin going.

    So how do you do it? Natural talent? Gift of the bag? Experience? Training? Practice and feedback? Answer: a bit of this, a bit of that and mix all around. A few pointers: Speak to the audience. Engage with their minds and their hearts. Speak their language. Use speech patterns they are familiar with from past famous and well known speeches (Some of the greatest orators do this and have done it e.g. I have a dream; Don’t ask your country) Start with what they know. Talk about their concerns. Draw on their emotions. Drive them forwards to the solutions, if it’s about a problem, in such away that you make them think of the solutions before you say it. Then they’ll cheer and shout and cry and wave. It will be one hell of an emotional moment. Your audience will be hyped up and rejoicing and so will you. Together, and spontaneously, you will create a new, and better, well heard of city.

    I can hear you. I can hear you. You’re cheering. You want me to give you some examples. I’ve got them. I’ve got them. But you’ll have to wait till next time, if there is one. In the meantime, good news, the speech here has ended. Three birds have given me their cards. I’m well in here.Oh, funnily enough, they’re rent a crowd too. And would you believe it? Who has just walked in? It’s Wendy. Hi, Wendy. What a surprise. I thought you were still in Pattaya.

    { 2 comments }

    Fantasy and Reality

    by Mega on August 9, 2010

    in General

    Reality, in Thailand, is often a like a counter punch. You know it’s out there. When it catches you it’s not entirely a surprise because, in the deep dark recesses of your mind, you’ve seen the peripheral signals. It’s just that you’ve been distracted by the façade of the fantasy world you’ve been living in here in the ‘Land Of Smiles’. We all like the fantasy world because the truth is, reality seems mundane. Fantasy gives us the opportunity to indulge in the world of make believe where we can pretend, or be fooled into thinking, that something is different to that which it actually is.      

     It’s hard not to feel sorry for them; the naïve, the foolish and the gullible that get taken to the cleaners by a bargirl (aka prostitutes). It all goes pear shaped and then they feel compelled to tell us all about their misadventure on one of the local web forums. I think that’s one of the attractions of Thailand’s expat web forums; reading the next installment of self inflicted emotional agony. How many times have I read through one and said to myself – ‘you poor deluded bloody fool’. Some of its quite pathetic really but love, or lust, tends to have that kind of effect on a bloke. The thinking is centered somewhere south of the navel and any kind of common sense, or intelligence, is never part of the equation. Even when the indications of lies and cheating are obvious, there’s a mental block; a refusal to except reality. So, on they blunder, from one fantasy world disappointment to the next.

     I was sitting at the open air seafood restaurants on Sukhumvit Soi 7. It was about 6.30 p.m., at that time of the year when daylight hadn’t yet succumbed to the night, the neon hadn’t been switched on and my vision had yet to be distorted by the effects of alcohol. There was plenty of activity with lots of girls making their way to their chosen place of professional interaction. What I found remarkable, as they passed by in the light of day, is how truly unremarkable a lot of them are. There’s no doubt that a combination of booze and low levels of ambient light do wonders for their looks. I remember once going, in a sober state, to the Buffalo Bar in Pattaya; it was early evening and I thought I’d stumbled in to the wrong bar. Some of the girls that I’d considered beauty’s; looked positively nasty.

    Personally, I don’t have any problems with what they do to make a living. The fact is that the worlds’ oldest profession provides a valuable service to a lot of lonely guys or those of us who, after a few beers, want a no strings attached session of horizontal folk dancing. Thai bar girls can be fun and entertaining, particularly when you’ve had a few drinks but, the reality is, that’s the sum of it.

     At the table next to me sat a guy that I would describe as a newbie. Mid thirties, reasonably fit looking, with what I would describe as a well worn bar girl. From what I could overhear from a conversation with his friend, at the same table, he’d known her for a month and was now planning to take the bus ride up to Nakhon Nowhere to meet the family. It might work out but I just couldn’t help thinking; here we go again; another one heading into fantasy world.

     I didn’t really have anything in particular planned for the evening; I was just chilling out after another long offshore contract and was quite happy to let things develop as the night went on. I was going to meet ‘Steve’, an old mate of mine from my past days living in Phuket, at Harahan’s sports bar on Soi four. Steve was a teacher who was now working in Bangkok and, I figured, would know the Bangkok bar scene fairly well.

    We met up at 8.00 pm and quickly got into gear by ordering a round of drinks. Steve had a couple of mates with him that worked at the same school in Bangkok. One of them, Jason, was fairly new to the LOS. He’d only been here nine months and, from all accounts, had landed a well paid teaching job. Invariably, the conversation moved to our favourite subject; Thai ladies. Jason was young – twenty seven – and was having a great time taking advantage of the odd bit of short time action in the fleshpots of Bangkok. He had a Thai girl friend from a reasonably wealthy Thai family. He had his own apartment but, so far, had managed to avoid letting the girlfriend move in with him. I told him to keep it that way. When he asked why I said that he might want to have a look at the Stickman website and, specifically, a submission called ‘It’s time to throw her out’.

     “The thing is mate, if she’s a good girl and from a decent family, eventually her parents will put pressure on her, and you, to get married”.

     “I don’t think I’m ready for that yet”.

     “That’s all the more reason for her not to move in with you. The only reason for getting married is to have kids and that’s exactly what Thai women are conditioned to do”.

     “Are you sure? She’s never mentioned anything like that”

     “She won’t. It’s a matter of stealth mate and they’re in the master class at being patient. Look, you can’t have your cake and eat it with these good girls. If you marry her, having short times on the side, with bargirls, would be totally unacceptable. The loss of face would be enormous if the family found out”.

     “What are you suggesting then?”

     “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m saying that if you don’t want to get married and you want to continue playing the field, then you need to make some hard decisions”.

     “What about you. Are you married?”

    “No. Thankfully I’ve managed to avoid that trap in the fifteen years I’ve been living here”.

     “That’s no mean feat. There must have been a one of these beauties that caught your eye enough to want to develop a long term relationship”

     “In a moment weakness perhaps? Fortunately common dog fuck always gives me a reality slap and I came to my senses”

     “Jesus, you make it sound as though getting into a relationship with one of these birds is like a prison sentence”

     “If you pick the wrong one it can be worse than that. Like I said, the only reason to get married, or to go into a long term relationship, is to have kids. If you’re not going to have children then there’s no bloody point. Particularly in a place like this where there are so many hot looking babes available. The fantasy is the long term loving relationship with a submissive, compliant and subservient Thai woman. Unfortunately, the reality is something totally different. Ninety percent of the time when a farang marries a Thai woman, or any women for that matter, the advantage is never to you. In almost all cases the advantage to the Thai woman is a lift in economic status. The advantage to the farang is insignificant or almost non-existent. Keep your wits about you mate, stay single and you’ll end up with a lot more money in the bank. Not only that you’ll have a lot more fun in Thailand”.

     “You must have a couple of birds there in Pattaya that you spend time with surely”

     “Well, I’ve got a couple of giks. Nothing serious though”

     “Giks, what are they?”

     “Kind of like part time, open ended, no strings attached girl friends that are available for shagging when I need one”

     “For a price no doubt, are they bargirls?”

     “Not exactly; they’re freelancers that have got themselves a sugar daddy, or two, overseas sending them a monthly stipend. They hang out at night clubs and pick up guys they like look of to supplement their monthly incomes. If I feel like a shag I’ll just call one up and have her come around to my apartment for a couple of hours”

     “Sounds like a good arrangement. How long are you in Bangkok for?”

      “Just tonight, I’m flying down to Phuket tomorrow”.

     “Half your luck, what’s going on down there?”

     “Not much. I’ll do some surfing and, if the monsoon isn’t too bad, some scuba diving”.

     “Where are you staying in Bangers?”

     “Down at Novotel on Siam Square”.

     “What’s the attraction of that?”

     “Freelance Bangkok pussy, my man”

     “Where?”

     “Mate, you’ve been here nine months and you’re telling me you haven’t been to CM 2”

    “No I haven’t. I heard that the prices for the girls down there were well expensive”

     “Well I’ll probably pay something in the vicinity of five to six thousand baht for a session with two good looking babes”.

     “Jesus, that’s an expensive night”

     “I guess it is if you live and work in Thailand, or if you’re a low income earner back in the real world. The fact is though it’s the equivalent of one hundred and seventy dollars. In real terms, that’s chump change for a threesome with a couple of hot Thai babes”

     “Shit mate, you’re a bit of a high roller then?”

     “Not at all, If anything, I’m well known for being a keeneow bastard. It’s just that I’ve always lived by the code that you get what you pay for. If you want dark skin and stretch marks, you can get that for a thousand baht down at the Nana car park every night. Better quality costs more, that’s the reality of life in the LOS mate. That’s the reality of the pay for pussy scene in Bangkok”.

     “You mean the fantasy of a threesome being met by the reality of the price”

     “You’re catching on buddy”

     “I wouldn’t mind checking out CM2. Is it any good down there?”

     “Tonight should be; it’s Saturday. I’m heading down there at about midnight. How about you, what’s your plan for tonight”.

     “Well, I’ve got to meet up with the girlfriend at the lounge bar on the ground floor of the Sheraton on Sukhumvit. Before that though, we’re probably going to drop into Rainbow four at Nana Plaza”.

     I smiled and thought about that. It’s just a fact of life – there are just so many beautiful women in this country, it’s just about impossible to stick to one. The reality is even if Jason’s got a girl that is the equivalent to Miss Thailand; he’ll still be sniffing around for something else. Welcome to fantasy world Jason.

     “I haven’t been to the Sheraton before, do you mind if I tag along” I asked.

     “Sure, no problems, we don’t plan to be there until ten or so”.

     We had another couple of drinks and then made our way across to NEP. The last time I was here it was the high season and was absolutely jam packed. The puddles on the ground now told the story; it was the low season and there were a lot less punters around.

     We made our way up to Rainbow four. Inside, it was the same deal; the numbers of oglers were way down. Three months ago I had trouble squeezing my way into the bar. Tonight, we walked straight in and sat down at four empty seats along the dance platform. The girls shuffling around the poles started smiling at us. It’s amazing the change in your status, as a resident expat, when the low season rolls around. Girls who wouldn’t even give you time of day, during December and January, suddenly become very friendly. To be fair to them, they’re just trying to make a living and it’s understandable that they’ll try to maximize their earnings potential at the peak business period. I looked across to my left and noticed a couple of sharks going to work on a guy who was, more than likely, a newcomer to the LOS. There were a bunch of glasses lined up in front of them, including cocktails and shooters. These two ladies were going to do well out of commissions on lady drinks tonight.

     We ordered our first round and within a few minutes we had some friendly Isaan girls attending to us. To be honest I really don’t have a lot of interest in young go-go dancers; it’s just eye candy. They’re good to look at but that’s about it. Without exception most of them, under the age of twenty five, have a poor proficiency level when it comes to providing pay for pleasure services. Still, I understand that they’re trying to make a living and if I find one that I’m happy to have sitting on my lap, or giving me a neck massage, I’ll always buy them a couple of drinks.

     “Hey mate, this is o.k. isn’t? I wouldn’t mind taking this one for a short time. How about you?” said Jason?

     “I can wait. Besides, I don’t really feel like wasting my money on a young go-go dancer”.

     “Why do you say it’s a waste of money?”

     “Look, the fantasy is that you walk in here and see a whole bunch of young, nubile babes. The booze and the testosterone takes over and you imagine yourself having porn star type sex with one. The reality is that young go-go dancers don’t know squat about providing a decent P4P service. Personally, I prefer freelancers in the twenty seven to thirty age brackets.”

     “Why?”.

    “Because they’ve got something that these girls don’t have; it’s called experience”.

     “But a lot of those birds have been in the game for years, aren’t they old and worn out?”

     “A lot are but sometimes you find some that are fairly well preserved. I’ve picked up part timers down at CM 2 on weekends, in that age group, and they had fantastic bodies. Not only that, the sex was great”.

     “What do you mean by part timers”.

     “Girls that either have a normal job during the week, and they’re looking to supplement their income, or girls that have an overseas sponsor, or two, and don’t work all that often”.

     “That sounds good; I think I’ll definitely tag along with you tonight”.

     “What about your girlfriend down at the Sheraton?”

     “I’ll think of something”.

     We had another couple of drinks and then decided to pay our check bins, in the anticipated move down to the Sheraton. As we were preparing to leave, I saw Jason getting a phone number from the girl he was with – another one for the little black book.

    We’d chosen to make our move at the wrong time; it was bucketing down as we moved out of NEP. There was very little activity out on the street as we hurriedly made our way across Sukhumvit pedestrian crossing to grab a cab.  

     The cab pulled up across from the Sheraton. We jumped out, into the rain, and sprinted across to the bar. We entered and made our way around to a table where there were a number of Thais and a couple of farang sitting. These were some people that Steve and Jason worked with and one of the farang colleagues’ was celebrating a birthday.

     Introductions were made. There were five attractive Thai ladies. Only two of them were work colleagues. The others, all Bangkok girls, were friends who’d come along for a few drinks. Two of them were absolute stunners. Tall, fair skinned, slim with tits; not the type of girls you’d find down at NEP. My fantasy was that I’d be doing a threesome with them tonight in a Jacuzzi. The reality was that even though I keep myself in pretty good shape, as a fifty year old, they wouldn’t even give me a second glance. The thing is of course that scenario is not exactly cut and dried. If I was to walk in here wearing Hugo Boss, or Armani, and sporting a gold Rolex, I’d probably get a bit more attention. Thailand is all about image and to Thai people, looking good counts for a lot. The reality is that it’s so bloody superficial. You could be the worlds’ greatest asshole but, if you’re dressed to the nines in this country, you’ll accorded high esteem. Vanity is the Thais’ biggest weakness.

    I was sitting next to Jason. I said “who are those two Thai guys?”

     “They’re teachers as well. We don’t really say a lot to each other. I don’t think they really like us”.

     “Oh, why’s that.”

     “I’m not sure. Small dick syndrome, I suppose.”

     “Oh for fucks sake, you’re taking the bloody piss aren’t you mate.”

     “No mate. They see us as a threat. Once their women have had a taste of our bigger dicks, there’s no going back”.

     “Sorry mate but that psychological tactic was tried by the yanks during the Vietnam war. It didn’t work.”

     “What did they do?”

     “They air dropped thousands of very large condoms over North Vietnam. The idea being that, when the North Vietnamese forces saw the size of the condoms’ they’d be cowed into submission, through feeling inferior to the American soldier, due to the huge difference in penis size”.

     “And?”

     “Well, as I said, it didn’t work. The yanks left Vietnam with their tales between their legs.  Look, forget all that talk you hear about Thai men being no good and Thai ladies’ not liking them; it’s a load of horseshit. Those young Thai ladies, who come from the North East, don’t end up with older, fat farang because they’ve found the love of their lives. As I said it’s all about economic advantage old sport. Young, atractive Thai ladies’ with money, such as these, will, more often than not, end up with Thai men of their own socio-economic age group. The truth is that middle class Thai men, such as these, generally don’t respect us very much.”

     “Why’s that.”

     “Because they see us as being emotionally weak and stupid”.

     “Really?”

     “Go figure. They can’t understand why farang, more often than not, end up with what they see as the dregs of Thai womanhood. How often do you see westerners’ with brown skinned, worn out slappers from some beer bar. They just don’t understand it. Not only that, they just don’t comprehend how we can be stupid enough to give them vast amounts of our personal wealth.”

     “Yeah but it’s only the sad fuck beer bar losers that end up like that, isn’t it?”

     “You’d like to believe it but the reality is that some of those rice farmers’ daughters end up with wealthy old guys.”

     “Why’s that?”

     “Why? Because they’re waiting for them to die so they can inherit the lot.”

     “Surely they all can’t be that blatant.”

      “Not all of them, mind you, but you’ve got to wonder what the real motives would be for some twenty something year old Thai girl to be married to a farang that’s thirty to forty years her senior. A couple of months ago I was at a sauna in Pattaya and a retiree I know, who’s there most days, told me that a friend, of his Thai wife, asked him if he knew of any seventy year old man she could marry. If that’s not blatant, tell me what is?”

     “Why would any guy fall for that?” 

     “Desperation, loneliness, emotional insecurity, the need to be wanted. Who knows? So many guys that come over here allow their little head to do the thinking for them. Instead of being patient and waiting to find a classy looking good girl, they get into a relationship with the first bargirl they meet that has the carnal skills of a lady from the Eden Bar.”

     “What’s the Eden bar?”

     “Anal sex and threesome’s.”

     “Where’s that?”

     “Between Soi seven and Soi eleven. The thing about these good girls though is that a lot of them are about as interesting as drying paint. I mean, look at this lot. They’re the equivalent of Asia’s blondes. Bloody air heads. Their main priorities in life are shopping trips to MBK, or Paragon; the latest round of gossip, on their new mobile phones, and their next helping of Thai food”.

     “Hey, what are you two talking about” it was Steve.

     “I was just giving Jason a few helpful tips about living in this fair land.”

     “I’ve got fairly good idea what that means. I’d like you to meet a work friend of mine”

     Steve was sitting with a very cute looking Thai lady, a bit shorter than the other two but with great curves. I got the impression that she might have been something more than just a friend, to Steve.

     “Tell me something about Steve” she said with that beautiful Thai smile.

     I was about to blurt out; ‘well he’s hung like a rogue bull’, when I caught Steve’s eye giving me a look which basically said; ‘don’t fuck this up’. It was then that I noticed that the other Thai girls had leaned a little closer to hear what I was about to say – another fresh snippet of gossip to entertain themselves with for hours on end. How does it go, there’s three ways of spreading a story around Thailand; telephone, telegram and tell a Thai.

    I thought for a few seconds. “Something about Steve? Let me see. Okay, Steve plays rugby and he’s got lots of stamina.”

     Jason, Steve and the other farangs’ started laughing. The Thais’ just sat there with a puzzled look on their faces. In fairness, they probably didn’t understand the word stamina. Then I realized that there was a loss of face situation unfolding because we were laughing and they weren’t. There was the possibility that they’d see it at as a joke at their expense. To redirect the situation, I jumped up and said “right, what do you want to drink, it’s my shout”. The Thai smiles returned.

     “Hey Jason, where’s your girlfriend gone to?” I asked.

    “Off to the dance floor. She’s got the hump; she’s not talking to me.”

    ‘Why’s that?”

    “I don’t know.”

    “Don’t worry about it. She’s probably needs, or wants, something and is using the silence tactic to soften you up.”

    “How do you know that?”

    “Because that’s part of the game they play mate. It’s called emotional manipulation and, they’re masters at it.”

    “What should I do?”

    “Nothing. Do what Thai males do; carry on as though there’s nothing wrong. Just enjoy yourself.”

    “But won’t that get her more pissed off.”

    “More than likely. She’ll probably move up to sulking before too long.”

    “What do you mean by ‘what Thai males do?”

    “Farang give in far too easily to the emotional shenanigans of Thai women. Thai men don’t put up with that crap.”

    “How do they handle it?”

    “By being assertive and letting them know who’s in charge. Look, I don’t condone any of that business of hitting women; it’s a cowardly thing to do. What you’ve got to get your head around is that Thailand is run by men. Forget the political correctness of the western world mate; this is still a bastion of male chauvinism”.

    “Yeah, but what can I do?”

    “Get some balls and tell her what you’re going to do. If she doesn’t like it, Tough.”

    “How?”

    “You said that you wanted to go to CM 2.”

    “Yeah.”

    “Tell her that you’re going for a few drinks with the boys and if she wants, she can call you tomorrow.”

    “She may not agree to that.”

    “It’s not a matter of asking mate, it’s a matter of telling.”

    “But what if she doesn’t call tomorrow?”

    “She will but, even if she doesn’t, you win anyway.”

    “Why?”

    “Because if she doesn’t; you’ll just carry on playing the field and enjoying yourself. If she does, then you’ve assumed the dominant position; she’s come to you. If you cave in and call her first then she’ll know that she’s in control. The bottom line mate is that you’re in the box seat. You’re young, you’re fit, you’ve got a well paid job and, she knows it.”

    “That’s a bit of a hard assed attitude isn’t it?”

    “Live here long enough mate and you’ll eventually learn that it’s the only attitude to have with Thai women. Niceness is seen as a weakness to be exploited”.

    “Is that how you deal with them?”

    “Years ago I had a couple of short term relationships. It was always the same old shit; they wanted money, above and beyond what we’d agreed on, or gold. One time when I refused to buy gold for a girl, she told me that she knew I didn’t love her and she was going to find another farang.”

    “What happened?”

    “I told her that if she waited a few minutes, I’d get dressed and go out and help her find one.”

    “No shit, what did she say to that?”

    “I never heard that idea mentioned again. The point is, as I’ve said, right from the start you’ve got to let them know you’re not going to put up with any of their bullshit; otherwise it turns into a mess. A lot of guy’s get into trouble with these girls because they don’t know how to handle them and they end up getting walked all over. Emotional weakness makes them just blunder along from one poor decision to the next.”

     “You mean you need to be in control of the situation?”

     “Precisely. Guys who aren’t get taken to the cleaners every time by these girls. You’ve got to know what you want. If you just want to butterfly around and enjoy the delights that this country has to offer then, at all costs, don’t get emotionally attached to one of them. Dip your wick and move on, that’s the best policy”.

     “You mean I should just continue shagging the girlfriend without worrying too much about a longer term commitment”.

     “I’ve already given you my opinion about that”.

      “Isn’t that just using her though?”

     “That’s one way of looking at it, naïve as it may be. Look, these good girls aren’t as bloody innocent as they make out to be.”

     “How do you know that?”

     “Trust me, they’ve probably had a couple of Thai boyfriends, during their time at university and, much like their sisters that work in the bars, they’re always looking at their options.”

     “You mean that they can have more than one boyfriend on the go, at the same time?”

     “If they’re from a wealthy family, probably not. If they’re from a poorer background up North, and the family had to scrimp and save to get them through university, more than likely. In that regard, they’re not that much different to a bargirl, they’ve just got an education and, normally, a bit more pride. They’ll still be looking for the best option available though to support them and their family.”

     “Is there anything that’s straight up in this country?”

     “Not often. The truth is though that we, more often than not, end up the same way. That’s just the way it is. You adapt to living in the environment your in. If you don’t you’ll get chewed up and spat out. That’s why a lot of us that stay here for a long time can’t go back to where we’re from. We get used to living a life of sensory overload. The fantasy world of living life on the edge. The reality is it’s got a lot to do with the beauty of these women here, they’re almost addictive. The problem is, learning to control the situation so you can enjoy it but not have it spiral out of control.”

     “What happens if it spirals out of control?”

     “It ends up costing you a lot of money. Not only that, you may find yourself without a penis. Beware of jealous Thai women and sharp knives”.

     “No shit, does that happen?”

     “Usually to Thai males who have a mia noi or two”.

     “What’s a mia noi?”

     “A minor wife”.

     “You mean like a mistress”.

     “Yeah, like a mistress”.

     “Is that something that’s common in Thai culture?”

     “If Thai ‘soapies’ are anything to go by, then yeah, it’s a part of life in Thailand. The thing is though; it’s not just something that’s seen in the more affluent levels of Thai society. I was down in Songkla a few months ago on a contract. The weather was crap so we had a few days ashore during which, I befriended another so called good girl.”

     “Why do you say, so called good girl.”

     “She had a farang husband who was overseas working. I picked her up in a local bar and within four hours, I had her back in my hotel room screwing her in every position conceivable. This just goes to prove what I’ve suspected all along about Thai women.”

     “What’s that?”

     “Thais are a fairly promiscuous lot at heart. This entire conservative, shyness codswallop that you see, even with bargirls – the routine about the lights off and the wearing a towel, is just an act. The bottom line is, at the end of the day, or night, what they really want is for someone to give them a bloody good rogering. Anyway, I’m getting off the subject here.”

     “About mia nois?”

     “Yeah. Anyway, I went out to a restaurant with her to meet some of her Thai friends and have lunch. There were three Thai couples there and only one of them was a legitimate husband/wife combination. The other two Thai blokes had mia nois with them. The thing was that, although they both worked for a local oil company and their incomes were better than the Thai average, I was a bit surprised to see that they could afford a mia noi’. The other thing was that no one gave a rats’ backside that I had someone else’s wife with me.”

     “How do you know that she wasn’t a bargirl though?”

     “The car she drove, her educational level and the fact that she had a business of her own. As I said earlier, don’t let the fact that they’re educated fool you into thinking that they aren’t keeping their options open. If the price is right, they’ll be up for it. Before I left Songkla, I picked up another so called ‘good girl’. She was a teacher, on a salary of nine thousand baht a month. She spent the whole night with me and the sex was great. It was a bit like being with an enthusiastic amateur. I paid her three thousand baht in the morning and you should’ve seen the look on her face.”

     “Like what.”

     “Like she’d just won a lottery.”

     “But doesn’t that just make them a hooker.”

     “Not really. They don’t see it the same as in the west. I’ve had Thai girls tell me that they can’t understand why western women would do it for free, ‘have they no pride’. You see, in this fair land pussy is a commodity; it’s got a price. Even bargirls tell you as much. The problem is that most farang don’t seem to get it.”

     “Get what?”

     “Those bargirls are just doing their job and, to be fair to them they, quite often, will inform you of that. They come to the bar, or go-go, doll themselves up in make-up and skimpy gear, do their shift and then head home to their Thai boyfriend. If they’ve been working a good routine during their shift and have snagged a farang, they’ll go off to the farangs’ hotel, after which, they’ll go back to their room and the Thai boyfriend. The thing that most farang fail to understand is that these girls are still just doing a job and the purpose of their job, as with any other job, is to maximize their earnings potential through any means possible, fair or foul.”

     “You mean it’s all just an act.”

     “Go to the top of the class my friend. Never lose sight of that reality.”

     “But if you see it for what it is, doesn’t it become boring?”

     “It does, but when you enter into a place like NEP, Walking Street, or any Night life scene in Thailand for that matter, always keep in mind that you’re heading into fantasy world and that nothing is for real. Much the same as the whole country.”

     “Nothing’s for real?”

     “Pretty much, unfortunately. It’s chaotic, disorganized and nothing, for us, is certain apart from the fact that the sun rises in the East. It used to annoy me but now, I just don’t care anymore. It’s like fantasy world and, once you get used to life in fantasy world, there’s no going back to the real world is there?”

     “Why?”

     “Because it’s too bloody boring mate. Like I said, it used to annoy me but I’ve learned to accept it for what it is – fantasy world, and now, I just go with the flow”

     “It sounds like you’ve just given up.”

     “It’s not really about that, it’s just accepting that we’re foreigners; that this is their country and, regardless of what we say or do, they’ll just continue on doing things in the Thai way. It’s easier to swim with the current than against it. It always makes me laugh when I see a letter from some disgruntled farang, in the Bangkok Post, complaining about poor service or being scammed.”

     “Why’s that?”

     “Complete waste of time, that’s why. Thais’ couldn’t give a rats’ backside about the complaints of a disgruntled farang. Like I said, it’s their turf and, as much as we don’t like to admit it, we’ve got no rights. And besides, there’s enough farang self styled experts on all things Thai out there without me adding to the arrogant, judgmental opinions by foreigners of this country”.

    “Isn’t everyone entitled to an opinion though?”

     ‘True enough. The problem is though that you get groups of bored, long term expats who have little better to do with their time than form knitting clubs (website forums) and sit around and pass judgment on anyone, who’s opinion of how things are in this country, doesn’t match theirs. The thing that makes me laugh though is that if these self styled experts were half as good as they imagine themselves to be, they wouldn’t be living in Thailand would they?”

     “You mean they’re a bunch of boring old farts and losers?”

     “Boring old farts? More than likely. Losers? I probably wouldn’t go that far because, despite the chatter you hear around the place, there’s actually some farang that are quite successful in making a life for themselves over here. The reality is though that most of the successful ones you never hear boo from”.

     “Because they don’t want to attract unnecessary attention to themselves?”

     “That and the fact that they’re not pissed off with the world. They’re usually quite happy with their lot in life and in Thailand. Like I said earlier, the longer you stay here, the harder it is to go back to where you come from. Eventually you get to a point where there’s really nothing to go back to. You don’t really know anyone, apart from your immediate family, and, if you’re in the twilight years of your working life, how the fuck do you get a decent paying job? Having said that though, even if I had the opportunities and the income stream to go back, I don’t think I would”.

     “Why?”

     “Because it’s as boring as bat shit over there that’s why. Suburban neurosis and the thirty year mortgage, no thanks. Over here there’s never a dull moment in fantasy world, that’s why. The trick is knowing, and understanding, the difference here between fantasy and reality. It’s a bit like turning a switch on and off”.

     “How do you do that?”

     “Well sitting here I know I’m with people who’ve generally got their shit together. You guys have got decent jobs and a profession. In other words, there’s no pretense or bullshit. When I go to CM 2 later I’m entering into a fantasy world where everything is a charade. I’m aware of that so I’ll turn on my charade switch as well. I’ll be as bigger bullshit artist as all the ladies that are in there because, at the end of the day, their whole M.O. is just a scam. When I’ve finished getting what I want, I’ll turn the switch off and go back into reality mode”.

     “Sounds like you’ve got a dual personality”

     “Not really. As I said it’s just about reality and fantasy. Fantasy is all an act and you can be whatever you want to be. Those birds can pretend they’re something other than prostitutes and I’ll pretend that I’m a brain surgeon. At the end of the day, all they want is their fee and all I want is to do the business. After they leave I can go back to getting on with the things that really matter in life”

     “Like what, getting pissed and getting laid”

     “No mate. More like looking after number one”

     “Fantasy and reality aye?”

     ”Absolutely. When you understand that you can have a lot of fun. I mean think about it; in few minutes I’m going to leave here and head down to a night club, pick up a couple of hot looking babes, who’re at least half my age, and head up to my hotel room for a threesome for a couple of hours, for a princely sum of about five to six thousand baht. Like I said, never a dull moment.”

     “Who’s going to CM 2?” It was Steve.

     “I was considering it, after I’ve finished this drink.”

     The music wasn’t loud but it was enough to drown out a conversation more than a couple of feet away. Steve had raised his voiced just enough to be heard by the others on the couch along from me. One of the white skinned Bangkok beauties turned, looked me straight in the eye and asked “why are you going to CM 2.”

     I’d had just enough to drink to make me belligerent and I was really tempted to say something like ‘because I don’t think there’s much chance I’ll be having a threesome with you and your friend tonight’. Always smile, regardless of whatever situation you’re in with Thais, because it’s the best means of defense. The girl in front of me had attitude. I was trying to assess what she represented before answering her. Was she a hi-so, stuck-up cunt or just a wannabe hi-so, stuck-up cunt? I figured the latter so I thought I’d just play along and see where things would go. No doubt she was fully aware of what the deal with going to CM 2 was. I just wasn’t sure what her angle was. She was still staring at me and smiling, willing me to make a fool of myself I suppose and that way, she could reinforce what her and her friends probably think about the average farang – we’re all bloody sex maniacs which, to be completely honest, is something close to the truth anyway.

      “Well, I’m going to meet a couple of ladies there.”

     “Really. Are they ladies from Bangkok or ladies from Isaan?”

     By now everyone in the group had focused on our conversation. My interrogator was still looking squarely at me.

     “I don’t know. I guess I’ll see what’s available when I get there.”

     “Oh, so you’re going shopping, like going to the supermarket.”

     “Something like that.” The analogy of going to a meat market wasn’t far off the mark.

     “Well, you must be careful about what you buy.”

     “Why do you say that?”

     “Because a lot of those ladies are not good quality, they’re ‘Sokaprok’.

     By now I was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable and, to be honest, I wasn’t sure where this conversation was heading. She continued:

     “You know, I have a friend who is a doctor and has clinic at On Nut. Most of the ladies that go to his clinic are bargirls. He tells me that ninety percent of them have Nong Nai. You know what Nong Nai is?”

     “No I don’t”.

     “Nong Nai is Thai for Gonorrhea”.

     “Okay. I’m always careful though, I use a condom”.

     “Do you know that some ladies have infection in their mouths? Lady with Nong Nai is not the same as a man”.

     “How is that?”

     “Because they can have it in their body for long time with no visible sign”.

     I was starting to feel a bit deflated and my visions of a threesome, with a couple of ladies from CM 2, were taking a battering. I had to admit though that what my educated acquaintance was telling me was quite possibly correct. I remember getting a mild dose of the clap a few years ago. I always use protection so I was at a loss to explain where I’d picked up the infection. It was only later that a couple of mates told me that it was possible to get a dose from a blow job –  all that was required was for the lady to carry the infection in her mouth. Another thing that I’ve always been conscious of is that bargirls are, generally, not all that healthy anyway. The hours they keep and their lifestyle – the booze, drugs and cigarettes – doesn’t exactly promote good health. It’s something similar to a long term night shift worker and eventually it takes its toll on their physical and emotional well being. After a few years on the game, most of them look pretty rough and their immune systems aren’t the best. A lot of them have always got some kind of ailment; a cold or the flu.

     “You know, a lady with Nong Nai can catch another infection more easily”.

     “You mean like H.I.V.”

     “Yes, but also like Hepatitis B & C”.

     I thought back to the time, years ago, when I’d first come to Thailand. I did something quite foolish; I had unprotected sex with a bargirl and ended up with a dose of the clap. That didn’t worry me as much as what else I might have picked up. I spent three months sweating before I got back a negative H.I.V. test. Whenever I read something written by a farang talking about bare back sex with a bargirl, my immediate thoughts are; here’s another one that likes Russian roulette. The reality is that it may well be that a bargirl is uninfected but, knowing that ninety nine percent of them are inveterate liars; who, in his right mind is willing to take the risk of believing what they tell you.  

     “Hey Mike, are you still going to CM 2?” It was Jason, who was now cuddled up next to his girlfriend. Obviously, she’d got what she wanted.

     “Having second thoughts about it are we mate”, it was Steve.

     “I’m not in a hurry. I think I’ll order another drink”.

     “Are you still going to CM2”.

    It was the wannabe hi-so, stuck-up cunt. I checked my watch, it was eleven thirty.

     ”Probably. I’ve got nothing else planned” I said.

     “Are you feeling hungry?” 

     I looked at her and smiled, a carnal thought running through my mind. “Now that you mention it, yes. Why?”

     “Well we’re going to Suan Lum night market later to get something to eat. Do you want to come?”

     “Maybe. How do we get there?”

     “I’ve got my car here”.

     “Okay. Who else is going?”

     “Well, if you want to come, there will be you, me and my two friends”.

    I smiled and said “that sounds like fun”.

     The reality was though that, having lived in Thailand for fifteen years, I’d become a master of deception, much the same as the Thais. Just like them, I could project the same false smile but mask what I was actually thinking. And what I was thinking you didn’t need to be Einstein to work out. Having been to Suan Lum previously, I knew the price for a seafood meal was a lot more expensive than eating at some other places I’d eaten at in Bangkok. The routine would be that the three Thai ladies, thinking that I was just an ignorant farang, they would fill themselves’ up on seafood and then expect me to pay the bill. A devious plan began to take shape in the back of mind.

     A few minutes later Steve and Jason decided to call it a night and they were heading home with what I thought would probably be their future wives. The ladies they were with already knew that, it’s just that Steve and Jason didn’t. This just reinforced what I’d come to know in the years of living in the LOS – the power of Thai pussy is an amazing thing.

     As we walked up the car park ramp I would have to admit I wasn’t getting overly excited. A lot of guys, given the same situation, would think they were about to fulfill their greatest fantasies. I’d been living here long enough to know that nothing is ever as it appears in this country. Walking towards the car I had time to reflect on a couple of things I’d noticed and I was getting suspicious. A couple of these ladies had small tattoo’s on their shoulders – is that something that a good girl would have? There were other things that didn’t add up either – they all drank like there was no tomorrow and the one I’d been in erstwhile conversation with, seemed to know far too much about sexually transmitted diseases for my liking. They were also dressed in a far too revealing way to be good girls. All were in tight jeans and tight tops – not what you’d consider at all to be conservative. The more that I thought about it the more I got the feeling that these girls were  university students who had money, through one means or another, and were out for a good time or, if the price was right, weren’t shy about providing a bit of freelance action.

     The car was a late model Toyota and as we drove down the ramp and out onto Sukumwit Road, the routine interrogation started.

     “Are you living in Bangkok Mike”.

     “No, I’m living in Phuket?” I actually live in Pattaya.

     “Do you have a business in Phuket?”

     “No, I’m retired”. I’ll probably be working for another ten years before I retire.

     “Have you got a house in Phuket?”

     “No, I’ve got a condo near the beach”. I’ve actually got a condo in Pattaya.

     “Wow, you must be rich”.

     “I’m doing okay”.

     I’m not rich. I just have a job in an industry that pays very well. I don’t work in Thailand and never will. I work in a global industry that will fly me to work anywhere in the world, at a moments’ notice. For six months work a year I get paid USD 150K. My only reason for living in Thailand is tax avoidance.

     We engaged in more small talk as the car continued down the road into the dampness of the night. As I suspected, all the girls were university students and in their early twenties. The one driving was studying political science Thammasat. They were also, from what I could deduce, good time girls. They enjoyed clubbing and drinking on weekends and, no doubt, probably picked up the odd farang for a bit of cash every now and again. We turned left at the junction of Sukumwit and Wireless Road, and sped off towards Suan Lum. I looked out into the rain soaked night and smiled. This whole thing with Thai women is like a bloody game. Most of the time they control the game. For old hands like me though we’d seen the game so often that it wasn’t really a contest anymore. In Thailand, pussy is a commodity and, just like any other commodity, the better the quality, the higher the price. Thai men understand it and don’t have issues with it. That’s why rich Thai men have mia nois and giks. That’s why Thai female superstars have their price. That’s why ex Thai prime ministers paid superstars one million baht for a couple of hours of short time action. That’s why young Thai female pop singers get paid 120 million baht as ‘sin soht’. That’s why elite male Thai sports men get to go with top line Thai penthouse models. I get it as well. If you want beautiful, sexy Thai women to thrust into, then it costs money. The longer you want them, the more it costs. That’s the simple equation.

    The car turned into Suan Lum night markets. I checked my watch; it was eleven forty five pm. Most of the hawkers’ stalls were rolling down the shutters. We cruised slowly down one of the small streets checking out the restaurants. As luck would have it we stopped in front of one that I’d been to fairly recently. I knew the layout of the restaurant. The three girls jumped out all very excited. I chuckled inwardly. In roughly half an hour they would have a completely different demeanor.

    Pam, the one that was driving, linked her arm through mine as we approached the doors to the restaurant. A waiter guided us through and we all sat down at a large table in the middle of the dining room.

    “Heuw maak” said one of the girls.

    They were all happy and, no doubt, ready to order a large amount of food. The waiter, standing near the table, was probably wondering what kind of fool this older farang was to be bringing three young Bangkok girls to a late night restaurant at Suan Lum. A round of drinks was ordered. The girls then started ordering in earnest. Steamed fish with lemon and garlic, grilled lobster and barbecued prawns. Another ordered a plate of mussels while I just sat there sedately and smiled.

    Ten minutes after arriving, and after a couple of pulls on my beer, I excused myself to go to the toilet. Having been here before I knew that the toilets were behind the restaurant. To get to them you had to exit the restaurant through a side door and walk to the back end of the building. There was a narrow path between the rear wall of the restaurant and the entrances to the toilet block. I followed the path as it continued back up along the opposite restaurant outer wall, to that which I’d exited from, and emerged out onto the road approximately twenty meters from where the car was parked. The rain had stopped so I legged it as fast as I could back out to the main road. As I approached the curbside a taxi was coming down the road so I flagged him down. I reached for the rear door, checked my watch and noted that barely three minutes had elapsed since I took my leave. I opened the door and barked out “Novotel on Siam Square”. The driver looked up and said “two hundred baht”. I nodded and climbed in. In another couple of minutes there was going to be some very pissed off university students. The fact is that I didn’t give a shit. They were quite prepared to try and use me up for whatever they could get.

    I looked out the window at Lumpini Park and my thoughts drifted off while the taxi driver prattled on in Thai, and broken English, about Thaksin. This country, for foreigners, is an enigma. We get drawn into its’ surrealism. The fantasy world of the easy life, of mai pen rai and readily available sex, with beautiful young women, while never really understanding, or knowing, what this country is about or what it really stands for. The cold hard reality is that it takes and takes and offers very little of substance in return. Many a disillusioned farang has joined the Pattaya flying club once the fantasy, and the money, ended. The cold hard reality is that Thailand is a money culture. Cash is king. Living in Thailand equates to a shit sandwich. The more bread you have, the less shit you eat. Eventually the reality hits you; to live well in Thailand you need money and plenty of it. Another reality is that most of the locals here, particularly in Bangkok, will have very little interest in you if have no money. I wonder what percentage of farangs’ Thai wives would leave if the farang suddenly said “I’m not giving your family anymore money”.  When you get beyond the fantasy and see the reality, the interest wanes. Even with a lot of the women there’s a façade that, once pulled down, leaves you wondering what there is beyond their ability to satisfy you in a horizontal position. There are so many guys that come here that never get beyond the fantasy. A real pity because, when you do, you find that there’s a hell of a lot of things out there that can be enjoyed, that don’t involve the constant need to be in a horizontal position with a Thai women.

    The taxi pulled up in front of the Novotel. I paid off the driver and stood in front of the stairway down to CM 2. I turned on the switch and descended the stairs towards the entrance. Looking beyond the cashier, as I paid my entrance fee, I could see that the place was packed and the music was pumping. As I approached the bar a couple of tall, hot looking babes looked and smiled in my direction. I smiled back and ordered a beer. One of the tall babes sidled up next to me.

    “How are you?” she said.

    “I’m very good. And you?”

    “I’m fine thank you. Where you come from?”

    “I come from England”

    “Really. What you do in England?”

    “I’m a Brain Surgeon”

    { 2 comments }

    Eat, drink and be merry: Celebrating Bangkok’s (unofficial) Fat Bastards Club

    by Fiedee on August 8, 2010

    in General

    Would you want to look like this young lady?

    Are you a fat bastard? I am. I weigh120 kilos and I’m only 1.60 metres tall. We get tons of grog, grub and birds. Let’s celebrate together with loads of my mates, birds and blokes together. We’re fat bastards. That’s what we call ourselves. Are you ready to join the Bangkok (Unofficial)Fat Bastards Club (Open to Foreigners and Thais)? If you do, let’s go. Let’s do it. Say it, shout it: Fat bastards! Fat bastards! Bangkok Fat bastards!

    We celebrate every day, sometimes alone, mostly together. We eat loads, and we drink buckets of high cal beer every day. We have our weight targets: We want to be bigger. We want to go Sumo, without the stress. Many of us, in the upper ranks, are already Sumo: we want to go Super Sumo. Put on the pounds, and the kilos, here we go, here we go. Let’s celebrate together. Drink, drink, eat, eat. Eat, drink and be merry.

    Skinny blokes ask: Why do you want to be a fat bastard? Don’t you want to look like us? Slim, thin, withered? We fat bastards ask: Why…..? We ask, in withering tones, shaking our heads in disbelief. Why do they ask that? It’s obvious: They’re jealous. That’s why. They can’t do it. We know it. Most of them know it too. We get all the fun. We get all the pluses. Everyone can see it.

    We always tell ‘em, there are plates and buckets of pluses in being a fat bastard. What are they, they ask. First off, and they know it, (they’re just trying to stop us-competition) we get jugs of attention, mainly physical, from Thai women who come up to us. They put their arms around us and pat our tummies. Thin blokes don’t get that. Birds in their masses call out to us and beg us to join them. They ignore the thin blokes. Why? It’s obvious to us: We’re sexy men. But, how do we know that? That’s what the birds tell us. They ignore the young, thin blokes. The birds let them walk past and call out to us:“Sexy man, sexy man, come over here sexy man.” Is this heaven, or what? Here we go, here we go.We’ve arrived; we’ve arrived.

    Now, I’m not going to pretend. A few of our mates, very few, have broken from our ranks. Skinny blokes, constantly, try to brain wash us, mainly with stuff from the media. Why? They’re jealous and want us to be thin like them to make it a level playing field. It’s a thin blokes conspiracy. I’m going to tell you what they say so that you, if you’re a fat bastard like me, will be able to resist the thin blokes influences and advances. The birds never do this. They want us to be like we are. And when fat bastards become thin bastards, the birds that loved us, leave us, for another fat bastard. Moral: Don’t go thin: stay fat,or fatter.

    First though, before they get their claws in, with the help of my fat mates, I’m going to tell you what you should do to stay fat or get fatter. Are you ready to get fatter? Yes? Here we go. First off, take in loads of calories. How many calories depends on your size and your age. Experiment. Don’t take any notice of the stuff in magazines or on the Internet. It’s often wrong. Just find out what works for you. Don’t weigh yourself either. You’ll be disappointed. There’s nothing worse than that. Don’t look at yourself in a mirror. Just wait for people to give you some feedback. If people tell you that you look lovely, then the chances are, you’re going in the right direction. Better still if they say you look cuddly. Even better if they start to pat your tummy and ask how many children you have, especially if you’re a man. I once asked a woman this. She was well cheered, and we’ve been the best of mates ever since. In case you’re wondering, she wasn’t pregnant.

    Will this help?

    Next, exercise: Why? It gives us an opportunity to be noticed by women. They like to watch us when we exercise. I’ve seen them. My mates have. Don’t worry about losing weight. It doesn’t work. Most of us fat bastards exercise for fun, especially if we want to give ourselves the best opportunity to be noticed by the widest range of women. We stand out. They can see us. They look at us and admire us. Thin blokes exercise and the birds don’t look, they don’t notice. We fat bastards stand out. We are at an advantage. We can swim, run, lift weights, cycle, walk what ever you want. It works. Try it. Just wave and smile when you do it. Go up to them and talk to them. They will look shy, look down. Be gentle. Get their name and number if you want. Don’t worry if you can’t: most will get yours. They don’t normally do that. But when we’re out there, they can’t help themselves. Have you ever seen this with a thin blokes? Bet you haven’t.

    OK, now, what do the thin blokes say? What do they say about us strimming down? Are you interested? No, me neither. But I’m going to tell, so that you can resist. We will resist together and be proud. Here it is: they say that if we slim down, we will live longer; we will have fewer illnesses, fewer doctors’ bills. They also claim, wrongly, that we won’t be able to keep our birds. OK. First off, do we want to live longer? Look at all the people that do. Do they have fun? No. Do we want to be like them? No. What about the illnesses? So what? More days off. What about the doctors bills? Never mind. If we can’t pay them, we’ll pass on, ready for the next life, if we have one. And the birds? No problem. There’s a big fish pond out there. Before I go further, we all know this. It’s our life’s chance and opportunity to be a fat bastard.

    Finally, let’s sit down here together. Can you see all the fat people walking? Do they look happy? Of course, they do. We are all fat people together. Are you fat? Are you a super fat bastard? If you are, let us celebrate together. Join the Bangkok Unoffical Fat Bastards Club. It’s open to men and women, Foreign or Thai. Come, drink, eat and be happy!

    { 0 comments }

    The Apartment

    by Mega on August 6, 2010

    in General

    There’s something about the coolness of an early Bangkok morning, in January, which should be savored. It’s like a small oasis of respite away from the stifling heat and humidity which is encountered most of the time.

    It was just after six am. I looked out over the balcony of the apartment and took in the quietness of the moment. The clear surface of the pool below was smooth and inviting. Ning, my girlfriend, placed a cup of hot filtered Lavazza on the table and then moved in behind me to massage my neck. I reached for my morning cup of ‘joe’ and smiled the smile of a contented man in Asia.

    The apartment building was situated just off Sukhumvit Road and I’d been staying there, from time to time in between work commitments, over the past few months. Ning lived there full time. The monthly rent I paid worked out to be a lot cheaper than the cost of a few days in a reasonable standard Bangkok hotel. I provided her with a monthly stipend on the condition that, whenever I returned to Bangkok, the fridge was stocked with meat and beer. So far there hadn’t been any dissent with this arrangement.

    I took a gulp of my Lavazza and reflected on a few things that I’d picked up about the residents of the apartment building, over the few months that I’d spent there, and wondered if the same stories were being replicated in dozens of other apartments across Bangkok.

    Ning finished massaging my neck and went back inside to prepare a plate of sliced mango for me. In the room to the right of ours I heard the first stirrings of the couple that occupied it. The farang, an American chap, was another of the endless number of ‘Walter Mitty’ types that seem to be attracted to this city. He, and his Thai girlfriend, had been living here for more than three years. Most of the Thai ladies that occupied the apartment building were in complete contempt of this particular fellow because he was, according to them, a ‘falang keeneow mak maak’. During his time in residence the rumor bandied about was that he was a multi millionaire. Whether this was true or not was difficult to prove because he kept his cards close to his chest and rarely mingled with the other occupants. The fact that he hadn’t worked in all the time he’d been living here certainly added a bit of credence to the rumor. The thing that had got all the Thai ladies, residing here, hopping mad was that his girlfriend, a university educated lass, had left a good office job to be with him and, after putting up with being given one hundred and twenty baht per day to live on, for the past three years, was now selling som tam from a ‘chuck wagon’ somewhere down on Sukhumvit every day. Why she would continue to do that was certainly baffling. Ning set me straight by telling me that the Thai lady, in question, was holding out for the big pay day. I had a feeling she might be waiting for quite a while.

    After polishing off the plate of sliced mango, I was still feeling hungry and decided that a decent breakfast would be in order. Unfortunately for me the restaurant, next to the pool, wasn’t going to open until eight am. The restaurant was another interesting tale of lies, deceit and stupidity. The farang that had bank rolled it, a decent sort of chap from the U.K., was an old Asia hand that should’ve known better.

    After a good dozen years, or so, of supporting the children of a local hi-so lass, the penny finally dropped when the children’s Thai father started to appear on the scene more often than what would’ve been deemed reasonable to do so. Not to be deterred, our good hearted English chap, jumped straight into another relationship with a lady, of questionable background, from somewhere up north. Nit’s story was that, at the age of thirty seven, she’d been thrown out by her Thai husband and given five hundred baht for the bus ride to Bangkok. The sob stories they come up with never cease to amaze me. The real story is more likely to be the standard Thai cocktail of confusion and duplicity. Another thing that never fails to amaze me is why seemingly intelligent western blokes would ever believe any of that garbage.

    Nit and her generous English chap were now happily married. Unfortunately, her demands for money have seen him head back home to work for a while in an effort to prop up the poor profit margin on their business venture. According to Ning, he may have to spend more time away working because Nit’s gambling debts, incurred over the past few nights, are heading into the multiples of Sen Baht. Knowing this gives weighting to the real reason why the ex Thai husband put her on the bus to Bangers in the first place.

     Despite the confused behind the scenes machinations of the management, of the restaurant, it was the night time gathering point, and local watering hole, for most of the apartments’ residents. The majority of the farangs, residing at the apartment, were just your average type of bloke trying to make his way in the world. Most of them had a steady job, in Bangkok, and would regularly gather after work to down a couple of cold beers while discussing the nuances of life in Thailand. Last night, being a Saturday, was a bit of a rowdy affair, as it usually is, due to the fact that the football was on. I was down there for a couple of hours enjoying a few bevies, with some of the other occupants, when Joy had made her grand entrance and set tongues wagging again. Joy, originally from Laos, was a kept piece of pussy that lived her life between sunset and sunrise. Her most redeeming feature was her well endowed cleavage. Aside from her fit chassis, she was one of the most crass ‘working girls’ I’d ever set eyes on. The poor fool, back in the U.K., sponsoring her to the tune of seventy thousand Baht a month, obviously saw something beyond her tattooed limbs; the tobacco induced rasping voice; her penchant for using four letter words as consistently as an NCO and the ability to consume large quantities of hard liquor. Even so, despite the hard and fast nocturnal life she lived, she still possessed one of the best looking bodies I, and most of the blokes at the apartment, had seen in the LOS. Joy enjoyed being the center of attention and last night was certainly no exception. She’d turned up at around nine pm with her latest farang toy boy in tow.

    Ning had taken an instant dislike to her because Joy, in her estimation, was ‘big action’. I was fairly certain, however, that Ning’s dislike of Joy had more to do with the fact that, until Joy arrived on the scene, Ning was considered the queen bee in the beauty pecking order at the apartment building. Ning now had a competitor to her position and, as such, was engaged in a daily war of one upmanship with Joy. If anyone thinks that what they see on Thai TV soapies doesn’t mirror what’s actually happening on the ground, then you need to pay closer attention. Beauty and the pecking order of beauty, in any community in Thailand, is serious business. The only thing that’s given a higher rating of importance is eating. Even though a short lived truce can be declared, while sharing a large helping of som tam boo pla raa, the protagonists will still be conscious that others will be watching to see who gains more face while seated together at the same table.

    In this regard Ning had gained the upper hand two days ago by paying, in advance, for the mid afternoon smorgasbord of spicy Isaan food that Joy, and a couple of other ladies from the apartment building, had been invited to share. To compound Joy’s relegation to second place, Ning turned up, a few minutes after Joy and the others had started tucking in, wearing some seriously large chunks of gold around her wrist and neck.  The praise and admiration, Ning had received from the other girls, made Joy’s discomfort more complete. In keeping with the norms of the unwritten Thai code of always showing coolness and good manners (Suparp), Joy tempered her negative feelings towards Ning with false smiles and the occasional little snipe. 

    Ning, in true ‘working girl’ tradition, was an opportunist. When someone, usually a wealthy farang, offers to buy something expensive – you know the rest of the story. When she’d first shown me the necklace and bracelet I’d queried her ability to be able to purchase that amount of gold – about ten baht in weight. (The Thai weighting system for gold is Baht – not the local currency – and one Troy ounce is about equal to two Baht of gold). Her answer was that, in the not too distant past, a previous farang boyfriend had purchased it for her (it was valued at about 150 k Baht at the time of purchase). Not only that, this incredibly generous fellow had also purchased a 3 million Baht house for her, over in Pattaya, for which she now received 15000 Baht a month in rental income. I’d reassured Ning that she really didn’t have anything to worry about; that she was, by Thai standards, financially independent and Joy wasn’t even in the same league as her.

    She was placated but not entirely. Her rivalry with Joy had taken on more of a personal tone after she’d seen me talking with Joy, down at the poolside, a few mornings previous. It didn’t matter that I’d just finished grinding out a few laps and, after leaving the pool, had engaged Joy in a very brief morning greeting while toweling myself off. The fact that Ning had spotted us talking together was enough to raise the venom stakes. Ning’s jealous petulance, when I arrived back in the room, was something I told her was out of order and unwarranted. The thing was though, her concerns weren’t completely unjustified. Joy had already managed to put the cat among the pigeons, with a lot the other Thai ladies living at the apartment, by allegedly shagging one of the boyfriends’ residing here. Nothing could be proven of course but the story was that, while the chap in questions’ girlfriend had gone north for a few days to visit the family, he’d had a big night out down at Cowboy and come home with Joy.

    I looked back into our studio and noticed Dao’s unpacked bags still sitting on the sofa. Dao was one of Ning’s old ‘working’ buddies. She’d arrived in town last night, having been away working in Australia for the past few months, and was now going to paint the town red. The nine hour flight, from Sydney, hadn’t dampened her enthusiasm to get out to some of her old haunts and meet some young farangs. She’d dropped her bags at the apartment, put on the clubbing gear and war paint, and strode out into the night. After she’d gone, Ning informed me that Dao’s mission was to fuck as many young farangs as she could in the next three weeks. I wondered what Dao’s husband, still in Australia, would make of this enlightening bit of information. Indeed. After going through the full western marriage thing with Dao, back in Australia, I wondered what he’d make of the news that Dao’s real stated intention, for going there, was to work for five years, get an Australian passport and then ditch him. 

    I nodded towards the bags. Ning just shrugged and said that Dao was probably asleep in Meow’s room upstairs. Meow was another old ‘working’ buddy, of Dao, and also a very enthusiastic clubber. Although in her early thirties, and a bit past her prime, Meow was another kept piece of pussy that frequented the Bangkok night club scene on a regular basis. Her mission in life was also to bang as many young farangs in as short as time as possible. Meow’s keeper, a young Australian chap, was currently back home and working hard to provide a reasonable lifestyle for her. No doubt, blissfully unaware of her night time adventures.

    My early morning contemplation was interrupted by the reverberation of a slamming door and the echoes of Thai voices yelling at each other along the apartments’ internal walkway. I looked at Ning. She just casually shrugged again and said ‘Lela’. The story of Lela was another confused web of lies and duplicity. Lela was walking proof that, when it comes to bar girls at least, ‘sponsorship doesn’t work’. According to Ning the monthly retainer that Lela received, from her boyfriend back in the U.K., was something similar to that which Joy received. Lela didn’t work. In fact, she did very little at all except sleep most of the day and hang out at late night karaoke bars. Her monthly retainer was used to entertain, and keep, a steady stream of Thai boyfriends.  The latest one of which she was now engaged with in a heated dispute. Ning advised me that it would be about money. It was nearly the end of the month and Lela’s resources would be finished. Ning new the routine well; a few days before the end of each month Lela normally approached her for a loan. The other part of the routine was that the Thai boyfriend, of the current month, would look for greener pastures when the money for whiskey, and other mind altering substances, ran out. This suited Lela though because she had a rich Japanese gik who, when the coast was clear, would be back on Lela’s doorstep to help her through the last financially challenging days of each month.

    The sun was inching its way higher into the sky and beginning to evaporate the coolness of the morning. As Ning placed another cup of coffee in front of me I looked out across the skyline of Bangkok. There were lots of other apartment buildings in the process of being built.

    { 9 comments }

    One Man’s Meat in Bangkok and other parts of Thailand

    by Fiedee on July 31, 2010

    in General

    “Don’t accept a poor attitude from anyone, anywhere and at any time, whether in business, on the sport’s field, or in the wider field and business of Life. Stand and fight if you have to, even walk away if you have no choice, but don’t let them get away with it, because they’ll do it again, to you or someone else, and, next time, it will be worse. This applies to all entities, including individuals, teams, businesses, politcal organisations and nation states.” George (1950-)

    General Knowlege Question: (10 points) Where was the picture below taken? Clue: a Thai national from Isaan has already provided the right answer. Still 10 points in it.

    Photobucket

    Meat Fest

    It’s a business. This is a theoretical approach based on secondary research and primary (observations of business negotiations and interviews with buyers). We’re focussing here on the wants of foreigners here in Thailand, both visitors and ex-pats, and the products and services provided by young Thai women freelancers and sole traders. Freelancers in this article are business providers who are their own bosses providing short term business deals. Sole traders can provide longer term business relationships. Some who start off as freelancers become sole traders later on and vice-versa. This business model could very well apply to other countries in Asia and other parts of the world. Customers, suppliers, observers and other stakeholders will be writing in to comment and offer more insights to help build and modify this theoretical framework.

    The young women (suppliers) are offering a product and a service. The young blood short time stayers (one type of customers) coming over here constitute one aspect of one of the markets. A market in this article is where suppliers and customers come together. The nature of the suppliers, their services and their products and the nature and wants of the customers will be different. Different mixes of suppliers and customers consitute different markets. Some of the suppliers specialise in the young blood short time stayers. Other suppliers specialise in other markets. Other examples of markets are the different cultural and national groups we can find here, like the Germans or the Arabs. Another market group is the oldies.Other suppliers still provide products and services to a wider range of markets.

    Location is important too. Different market groups know where to go for their supplies and the suppliers know these places too in order to find their particular type of customers. Our readers will be able to inform you about these different market locations.

    The customers look for a product and services that go with it. They find a supplier and ask questions about the product and the services on offer. When they find something they want, they sometimes negotiate the price. When a price has been agreed on, the customer buys the product and the services because that’s what they want, or think they want, or they don’t know what else they can buy with their money. Of course, often, the price is non-negotiable.

    Some of the customers will look around because they don’t like very much what’s on offer (eg a bad attitude) or they want to get something better (in their judgement) for their cash. As we all know, one man’s meat is another man’s poison. The traders also have the right not to provide a product or a service if they wish. That’s their right. And often they will. Sometimes, they feel they would not enjoy doing business with a potential customer. Many choose their own customers but many others can’t afford to do that, even if they wished they could.Of course, all suppliers look for potential customers they can do business with. Each has her own preferences. For example, some like men in suits and some like men in baggy shorts, vests and flip flops.

    Sometimes, the business transaction doesn’t involve cash. Sometimes, a bit of bartering takes place. One product and service is provided in exchange for another product and, or service. For example, a haircut, information, advice, buttons, pens or cigarettes.

    The successof these business transactions depends on numerous factors including the quality of the product and service rendered, whether the service or product was the one that was promised and the nature and quality of the relationship that develops between the suppliers and their customers. Trust is one important element of the relationship.

    Feedback is one way that the young people can improve their products and services. Some suppliers might want to seek feedback on customer satisfaction, or otherwise, so that they can improve their product or services. Many suppliers won’t for lots of different reasons including the following: they haven’t thought about it or they feel they don’t have to because they’ve got all the business they want. Many customers will provide feedback whether they have been asked for it or not. They do this in many different ways: directly to their supplier, or to other possible potential suppliers, usually verbally; or by writing in to complain to different publications, including Bangkok Diaries. Sometimes, this is in the hope of creating positive change; sometimes to warn or educate other potential customers; sometimes to share experiences and sometimes to get it off their chests.

    What some of these young blood short time stayers are trying to do when they come over here is a) have a good time on their terms and b) develop a successful working relationship with their supplier (the young women) or suppliers in order to get the best out of them, that is, to get the best service that they can get for their money. The suppliers are trying to do something similar. Many want their customers to be happy with their product and services and some do this because they think it could lead to more business either with the same customer or through recommendations.We often see similar patterns of behaviour between business men and women offering or looking for other types of services and or products in night clubs around the town.For example, plastic mouldings.

    Long timers (eg ex-pats) won’t always be happy about new customers coming into the market for different reasons, including the following: a) their suppliers change their product and services in ways that displeases them b)their suppliers demand a higher price for their product and services. c)the new customers are willing to pay a higher price than the long time stayers. When the demand increases very often the price increases too. Sometimes, this is seasonal. At other times, increased demand doesn’t lead to an increase in price because the customers have alternatives to turn to. For example, if the price of chicken goes up, people might stop eating chicken and eat rats, dogs or frogs instead. Changes in products, services and higher prices means that the long termers have to make a decision, for example a) accept the changes in the product, products and services b) pay the higher price c)look for new suppliers, which is always a bind, or d)Find an alternative but equivalent product.

    Most of these business deals are short term. Sometimes, but more rarely, the business relationship becames something a bit more long term and the terms of the business deal change. It depends on the wants of the traders and the wants of the customers. Different customers are looking for different kinds of products and services and sometimes, of course, their wants change as do the goals and aspirations of the suppliers.

    Not all providers are full-time professionals; some are amateurs, some are part-timers and some do this for a short period and then look for a career change. Others move in and out of being full-time professionals, part-timers, seasonal workers, occasional workers or amateurs.

    Of course, there are many other aspects to this theoretical framework that have been left out either through oversight or deliberately. What has been written above should be enough to get the proverbial ball rolling. Over to you, George.

    { 2 comments }

    Whores with Attitude

    by Mega on July 29, 2010

    in General

    A question was posed, recently, on one of Thailand’s most popular web forums. A popular author, to that forum, decided to engage us in a discussion about “Who’s a Whore.” The debate raged on for days and most of the protagonists voiced their opinions strongly about what, in their esteemed view, constitutes a woman being a whore and whether, or not, it’s a proper or reasonable term, to be using in the first place. Who is a whore indeed? I decided look at the posing of that question from a slightly different perspective because it illuminates a rather interesting and, perhaps unique, aspect encountered within the machinations of the world of whoring here in Thailand. Before I go on, I would like to first make it clear that I understand that everyone has got their own take on what, or who, can be classed as a whore; it’s not just a black and white scenario. There are many shades of grey in-between the dictionary’s sanitized description; that interpretation being something about a sex service provider being paid for her time and services. 

    There are some men who ascribe to the theory that all women are whores, it’s just a matter of degrees. Certainly the idea that a woman is willing to provide her sexual favours, to the best possible male provider, goes back to the days when we were all running about in bear skins. Their primeval instinct for food, clothing and shelter remains unchanged. A man’s primeval urge to procreate (read ejaculate) remains unchanged. For that reason, and that alone, there will always be a place for the world’s oldest profession on this planet.

    I think most of us can accept the idea that, by strict definition, a lady that provides sexual favors, or services, for direct monetary compensation can be described as a whore. It’s the black and white scenario which, when put to use in most regions of the world, affords a man an uncomplicated way of getting a load of his mind, so to speak. It’s direct and it’s convenient. You pay your money, do the business and move on. Unless, of course, if you happen to be in Thailand; a place where things are rarely direct and uncomplicated.

    It appears that a rather strange phenomena, largely unique to Thailand, has arisen where the hotter looking whore’s have created a hierarchal world, within the realms of whoredom, which mirrors the social interplay one might encounter when approaching women in a non-whoring situation. Just because you’ve got a pocket full of cash doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re going to get the pick of the hottest looking whores in any of the bars, or night clubs, you go to here. If you don’t measure up in terms of physical appearance, or dress, there’s a very real likelihood that you’ll be snubbed or, worse, completely ignored. To put it bluntly, these whores have ATTITUDE.

     This situation, of course, challenges the very notion of what the function of whoring is about in the first place; the easy and convenient method of getting shag without the anxiety, or added pressures, one might encounter when pursuing a lady in a non-whoring situation. It introduces elements of doubt into the equation. What you may have thought would simply be a cash for sex transaction becomes something entirely else again. The hotter looking whores, the one’s with attitude, will pick who they want to shag thank you very much.

    Who, this odd system, serves to benefit is anyone’s guess. One thing you can be sure of though is that it’s not the punters’ lining up to shag the hottest looking whores in Thailand. Market forces, being what they are, will ensure that the demand for the hottest whores will see them rejecting the approaches of those they deem unworthy of their presence. It’s a rather ridiculous fantasy world, within the fantasy world of whoring in Thailand, which, quite often, relegates the older, overweight, and badly presented monger to the scrap heap of the snubbed and rejected. More often than not, they will need to lower their expectations when making a final selection for the night.

    This uniquely Thai phenomenon – the whore with attitude – is normally encountered at the more popular go-go bars or the better freelancer venues such as Q Bar and CM2, in Bangkok. Seasoned mongers, or long term resident expats, generally have a better understanding of how this ‘Alice In Wonderland’ world, of the whore with attitude, all seems to work. Newcomers, thinking that they’ve always got the girl they wanted, are only getting the girl that allowed herself to be picked up.

    If you go to any of the above mentioned locations, and take a moment to observe what’s actually happening, you’ll see some intricate tactics going on. The fact is the girls will choose you, as much as you choose them, by placing themselves in your general vicinity, establishing eye contact and making themselves available to your approach. Those that want to avoid being approached, by punters considered unworthy, will relocate to a different part of the bar or night club.

    In one of my earlier submissions I mentioned the sponsorship setup that many of the hotter freelancers have; they can often have multiple sponsors sending them enough each month so that there is really no pressure for them to just go with anyone that happens to approach them. They’ll be the ones that decide who they’re going to spend the night with and their selection usually is based on a combination of the punter’s physical presentation and the ability to pay the demanded rate (whore’s with attitude will generally consider themselves to have a higher price tag).

    Some time ago I spent the night with a ‘whore with attitude’ that I’d been allowed to pick up at CM2. She was the typical up market Bangkok freelancer, or so she thought, with a fair complexion, of a taller stature and a well endowed cleavage. On the way back to the hotel I was informed that she didn’t work all that often, due to the fact that she had a couple of ‘sugar daddies’ overseas, and I’d been given the priveledge of giving her a seeing to because she was feeling horny. I should be so lucky!

    Another location with an abundance of whore’s with attitude is Q Bar, in Bangkok. A couple of recent visits there reinforced the premise of the whore with attitude. My first visit was unplanned. I turned up there in a pair of jeans and a rugby jumper. Needless to say, my presence was barely noticed by those that consider themselves the elite of Bangkok’s hierarchy of whoredom. The next night I presented myself wearing my weekend millionaire’s attire and, after flashing a handful of thousand baht notes while paying for my drink, was soon smiling at, and making eye contact with, a number of the ‘elite’. This of course is the complete and utter absurdity of the Bangkok whoring scene. Regardless of how hot, or elite, these ladies think they might be, they’ll never be as hot as the hottest non-whoring girls that can be seen at Siam Paragon, etc. Of course, in their little fantasy world, they don’t consider themselves to be whore’s. They’re just working and you’re just paying them for the privilege of being allowed to spend a few hours with them.

    The ultimate location, for Thai whores with attitude, used to be the Top Ten night club at Orchard Towers in Singapore. Some of the hottest there thought they had a status that rivaled movie stars. I guess it had a lot to do with the fact that they were making anywhere in the vicinity of 500 -700 Singapore dollars a night and the over abundance of cashed up, horny punters meant that the hottest got to pick who they wanted to go with. Now I don’t have any particular gripe with what they do but sometimes when a girl that is obviously off some rice farm up in the Northeast of Thailand has an attitude that becomes obnoxious, then something’s got to give. On this particular night I was playing a few games of pool at the front bar of Top Ten (back in the days before it became top five). I’d put my beer on the bar and, after playing a couple of shots, I moved to pick up my beer again. A number of whores with attitude were standing in front of the area where my beer was positioned so I politely said ‘excuse me’. A couple of them moved but one wouldn’t. I said excuse me again and she still wouldn’t budge so I tried to push my way past. She turned with her nose in the air and said ‘get away’ or something to that effect. Big mistake on her part because she’d forgotten that we weren’t in Thailand and that there’s no backup up from a local mafia or the boys in brown. Given the same situation back in Thailand most farang, including myself, would try to avoid any escalation of the situation. Because it was Singapore though, it was much more of a level playing field. I smiled, leaned towards her and said, in my best semblance of Thai “pooying mai mee suparp dikwa khun gep bpai chao naa te isaan. U te baan fan khun kap rot moto sai”. This roughly translates into “You’ve got no manners lady. Better that you go back to your rice farm, in Isaan, and stay with your motor bike taxi driver boyfriend”. I’d pay money to see that look on her face again. The haughty attitude replaced by some serious loss of face. Some of the other non Isaan girls started laughing – which made her cutting down to size even more complete – and reinforced my theory that, when it comes to whoring, there’s only competitors. As I grabbed my beer, the tears started to flow and, with her head bowed, she made her way out of the bar. Some may say I was a bit too hard on her. Perhaps? When you’ve had to turn the other cheek too many times though, back in Thailand, it tends to give one a less forgiving mindset when afforded the opportunity to get some payback.

    There’s a time and a place for whores with attitude. The time is every night and the place is Bangkok.

    { 15 comments }

    THAI DOGS ON LOOK DAN BEACH

    by Fiedee on July 26, 2010

    in General

    Thai Ridge Dog

    Near Jomtien. Ten minutes from Pattaya Beach, an hour if you walk.

    I’m on Look Dan beach and I’m chatting to ex-soldier Mike, ex-special forces. I’ve met a few around Pattaya. It draws them like a magnet. He’s just had a massage here on the beach and, obviously, he’s in a good mood.

    If you haven’t been here. You should come. It’s much better than Pattaya Beach and it’s even better than Jomtien beach just up the path. The people here, tourists, residents, and workers are really friendly and seem to be in a good, happy mood. There is another beach not far away, that’s even better.I’ll tell you about that one later.

    You can get a really good massage here from masseuses or masseurs; buy drinks, eat food, go jet skiing. You can walk along the beach; play volley ball. It’s relaxing and fun. You can also negotiate the price of the drinks, if you want to. People usually just buy them for me.

    Over there, behind me, is the Water Park and, off to my right, is the Seaside Rescue Services.I’ve just used their toilet. It’s the best toilet for a distance. No paper or soap, so bring your own. Remember that. The Rescue guys were treating a boy for jelly fish stings. He was crying. Apparently, it’s extremely painful. Some of the other toilets around here smell more than a bit, but thank goodness they are here. The people manning them are friendly, which helps.

    Mike loves dogs. He read my article on dogs and he’s a bit disappointed. Eh, disgruntled. In fact he’s starting to get a bit agitated, after feeling good. This is a fluid situation and in fluid situations, anything can happen. Calm one minute etc. Believe me. You don’t want to get Mike agitated. I’ve just noticed he’s got a tatoo of a dog on his back. I’m going to ask him what kind of dog that is. It’s a Thai dog; it’s called a Ridge Back. OK, he wants me to put a picture of the Ridge Back on Bangkok Diaries.

    I don’t think I know how to do that. Give me five minutes and I’ll find out how to do it. I’m looking for a picture of one on the internet. I’m using Google images. I’ve found one and I’m saving it. Now, I have to find out how to put that picture onto Bangkok Diaries. Give me ten minutes and I’ll find out. I saw another image not long ago on Bangkok Diaries of children sitting on a railway line, so it can be done.

    Ok, Mike I’ve done it. He’s not happy. He wants me to centre it. Give me ten minutes and I’ll find out how to do that. I used to know. I’ve used Front Page and I’ve written a bit of code in HTML. Eh, ok, I’ve forgotten how to do that. I haven’t done it for a long time, but I’m sure I can remember very quickly, Mike, how I can do that. Just a minute.

    I’m back now and I’ve failed miserably. I did centre it but the word center popped up on the preview page. American spelling for HTML. Don’t want the word to appear. Tried the stuff at the bottom of the Edit page. It either doesn’t work or I don’t know how to work it. Reading the help stuff too. Tried it; don’t really understand. It’s not helpful for me. I’m now reading W3schools for help. Used it before and it’s always helped. I’m beginning to remember now. No, that doesn’t work either. What can I do? The Ridge Dog is still not centred.

    Never mind. I’ve tried my best, which is not good enough. Maybe someone will write in and tell me how I can do that for Mike. I tried copying and pasting the code for the kids on the line in Bangkok Diaries but that didn’t work either.

    Mike says I should just post it as it is, but he’s clearly not happy. OK, Mike. Mike’s just walked off in a huff and he’s joined the young men over there for a bit of volley ball. He’s probably going to work off a bit of anger. I used to play volleyball. Oh, Mike looks really pissed off.

    { 3 comments }

    Nights Like These

    by Mega on July 26, 2010

    in General

    Nights like These

    By Mega

    Lower Sukhumvit was its’ usual night time crowded chaos of  sidewalk hawker’s stalls, street walkers, tuk tuk touts, and chuck-wagons as we made our way to our intended destination; the Indian Tailors situated up a side Soi, half way along Soi Eleven. We got there just in time; it was a few minutes before ten and they were in the process of pulling the shutters down on the day. We entered and, once again, felt the relief of the air-conditioning. There was one of those ever smiling Indian salesman standing behind the shops’ counter.

    “Are you still open” I enquired.

    “If you are going to buy, then yes we are” he said assuredly.

    “Okay. We want to order four short sleeved shirts and two pairs of trousers. We want light material for the shirts. The best quality you’ve got”

    “Something like this?” he said as he pulled out a roll of good quality material.

    “Yeah, that looks good. By the way, can you have our order ready by tomorrow evening?”

    “Twenty four hours is possible” 

    “I don’t want possible, I want definite. How much extra will I have to pay to make sure our order is ready by tomorrow evening?”

    “Shit dude, do you think they can have it ready by then?” said Mark.

    “If the price is right, just about anything is possible in this country. And besides, it’s not as though these buggers are going to be hunched over a hot sewing machine is it. Truth be known most of the orders, from this area of town, probably get made at that sweatshop just down the road from your condo” I said flatly.

    “I think we can come to some arrangement. What color material do you want” said the Indian salesman.

    “Light colors will be good. Want do you want mate?”

    “That looks good dude. Man, how’s this Thai silk? This is quality stuff”

    “Yeah, and to think, it’s all come about because of a fellow country man of yours”

    “Well yeah. They terminated his ass though, didn’t they dude”

    “Who did?”

    “The Thai’s man. They wanted it to themselves so they killed old Jimmy Thompson”

    “Mate, that sounds like another of your conspiracy theories. The fact is that when he disappeared, back in sixty five, he wasn’t even in Thailand”

    “Are you sure about that dude?”

    “As sure as the sun rises in the East mate. Do a search on Wikipedia and you’ll find that he disappeared, after wandering off from his bungalow, up in the Cameron Highlands of Malaysia”

    “After wandering off?”

    “Yeah. Left his cigarettes on the table and was never seen again. Conspiracy theories notwithstanding, his disappearance was possibly due to falling into a native’s bear pit”

    “Fuck dude, that’s a pretty unspectacular way to go out”

    “Absolutely. I think I’d rather die in the saddle up at the Eden bar. Anyway, let’s get this sorted out and get down to the Q Bar”

    We spent another twenty minutes getting measured up before we could get back out onto Soi eleven and grab a Tuk Tuk down to Q bar. As we walked towards the entrance I checked my watch; it was just after ten forty five.

    “What time does this place shut?” I said as we handed over the six hundred baht entrance fee.

    “It closes early dude; around one am. We better get in there and make the most of it”

    “No shit” I said as we entered the lower bar area.

    There was some fairly cool chill out type music playing as we looked for a place to position ourselves. A mixture of farang and Thai ladies were spread along an extended bar area to the right of the dance floor. We made our way to a couple of empty chairs, positioned midway along the bar, and ordered two Heinekens’. A quick glance around confirmed my earlier assumptions about the reputation of this place; a poseurs joint. There were a number of attractive ladies scattered about all trying to give the impression that they weren’t really ‘that type of girl’ but if you measured up to their haughty expectations and were prepared to pay the overinflated price tag, that they assumed beyond question that they were worth, they might consider giving you a few hours of their time. The farangs were a mixture of the younger type of clubbing scene monger and the cashed up older expat business, or executive type, professional. The young clubbing mongers would be hoping that their good looks and studly athletic appearance would be enough to have one of the elite, of the Q-bar whoring fraternity, offer up their services free of charge – keep dreaming suckers.  The cashed up older business professionals were biding their time on the sidelines knowing that, in the land of ‘pay for pleasure’ and the one eyed trouser snake, cash is king. Eventually the young studly mongers would tire of buying drinks for these ‘whore’s with attitude’ and move on to another venue where the pickings weren’t quite as haughty. The older cashed up business types, circling like hungry sharks, would then move in to negotiate the evenings’ price. 

    “Well mate, I think my chances of scoring in here are about nil to Buckleys” I said taking a long gulp of my Heineken.

    “Whose Buckley dude”

    “Nobody I know mate. It’s just an old Australian expression that reinforces the idea of having next to no chance. And besides, coming in here wearing a faded pair of jeans and a sweaty ‘Hurricanes’ polo shirt isn’t exactly putting me up there in the fashion stakes is it?

    “C’mon guy, be positive”

    “The thing is though mate, I don’t really care”

    “There’s some good looking pussy in here dude”

    “Looks can be deceiving mate”

    “How so?”

    “I’ll let you in on a little secret”

    “Will you have to kill me if you tell me dude”

    We both laughed.

    “Have you ever wondered why farang seem to prefer those little brown skinned Isaan girls over these lighter skinned Bangkok prima donnas?”

    “I figured it was because they weren’t going to the right places or weren’t prepared to pay the higher prices”

    “Possibly but the real reason is that, pound for pound, those little Isaan girls are a lot stronger”

    “Well laboring, or working in rice fields, will tend to toughen you up dude. What’s your point?”

    “My point is dude that those little Isaan girls have a lot more stamina and shag a lot better. These fair skinned middle class, or hi-so, prima donnas have normally had the type of pampered upbringing that makes them soft and unable to put up with any type of hardship. Every time I see one of these pampered types, down at Paragon, the thought that always comes to mind is that they’d scream and jump up onto a table if they saw a mouse”

    “The idea of some Khunying, the type you see on Thai soapies with the bouffant hairdo and the long painted nails, using a broom to chase down a rodent doesn’t readily come to mind does it dude?”

    “That’d be a hell of a sight. But, no, that’s what the hired help is for. The bottom line for me is that the overinflated price you might pay for one these prima donnas doesn’t stack up when you get them naked and the time comes to perform. I guess that’s why they often prefer the Asian guys; more money for less output. Some muscular farang who’s hung like a rogue bull, and wants’ to make it an all night affair, is probably a less appealing option for them”

    “The fact is dude it’s a completely different market. The Asian guys, and I’m talking predominantly about the Japanese and Koreans here, want girls that offer more of the GFE and who don’t necessarily look like hookers. They want babes that resemble office secretaries, are fair skinned and cute with an idiotic manner”

    “Fair enough. What do farangs’ want then?”

    “When it’s all said and done dude, our needs are fairly basic”

    “Like what?”

    “Like the babe that can suck a golf ball up six feet of garden hose dude”

    “Well, surveying what’s in here at the moment, I wouldn’t be holding my breath over that”

    “I know dude. That’s why I was at Lolita’s earlier today”

    “Hmm, I might have to make a visit there myself tomorrow. Jesus, have a look at what’s just come through the door” I said nodding towards a couple of decidedly very hot looking, fair skinned, Bangkok ladies who’d just made their entry into the bar area.

    “Do you want to meet them dude?”

    “Yeah right mate, no problems. What’s your pick up line then?”

    “Nothing dude, I know them” said Mark as he casually waved to the pair of stunners.

    They smiled and started to move towards us.

    “Fuck, you’re fair dinkum then” I said.

    “They’re uni graduates who’re getting started in the Thai movie scene. I met them a couple of months ago on the set of the last movie I worked on”

    We turned from the bar to meet them as they walked up behind us. They were like peas out of a pod. Both were around five foot six with fair skin, curves and tits. They smiled and greeted us.

    “Hi Mark. Are you partying tonight?” said the more assertive looking one of the two.

    “Possibly, what have you got in mind?”

    “Well, it’s early so we’re going to start with a few drinks here”

    This one spoke very good English and looked highly intelligent.

    “Sounds good. This is my friend Mike” said Mark gesturing towards me.

    I smiled and said hello. Unlike bargirls, they didn’t put their hands out to be shaken.

    The assertive one was named Nat and the other was Pam. No doubt it wasn’t their real names; just a chosen nickname or a shortened version of their real names. There were no spare seats available and for an instant I was going to be a farang and offer my seat but decided against it as I put on my chauvinist Thai male thinking cap. We sat there looking at them for a few seconds as Mark had noted that I hadn’t made a move and, therefore, neither had he. I smiled and broke the ice.

    “What are you ladies drinking then?”

    The assertive one, Nat, smiled, looked at me confidently and said “tequila and Spy ka”

    These two were not as innocent as they appeared. Hard core liquor right from the get goes then. I ordered their drinks. We continued making small talk and eventually I ended up singling out Nat while Mark took off to the dance floor with Pam.

    “Mark tells me you’re doing some movie work” I said.

    “Sometimes but not much lately. I’ve been busy finishing my degree in fine arts” she said looking at me with just a hint of arrogance.

    This was going to be fun.

    “Are you on vacation Mike?”

    “You could say that. I’m just chilling out until I have to go back to work again”

    “What is your profession?”

    “My profession? Nothing very spectacular really. I just try to make as much money as I possibly can by doing as little as I possibly can”

    “You are a gangster then?” she said smiling.

    At least she had a sense of humour. Imagine trying to enter into this type of conversation with a bargirl.

    “No. Something similar though” I said smiling.

    “Similar, like what?”

    “Like a Thai Rak Thai politician”

    “Hmm, I like your sense of humour”

    “Just kidding. Sometimes the work I do helps contribute to the wealth and prosperity of Thailand”

    “Are you bullshitting like most farang that come here?” she said with a wry smile.

     “Do you want another Tequila?”

    “Thank you. You know Mike there are so many farang who come here who just want to have sex with bar girls and are not interested in anything about the history or culture of our country” she said with that air of seriousness again.

    At this point I should’ve just said jam it as the last thing I really needed to do was to enter into a debate about Thai history and culture with an educated hi-so type. But, fuck it, the reckless side of me wanted to see where this might lead to. Over the years of living in Thailand I’d come to realize that there were two cards the educated types threw around when they felt the need to defend the honour of Thailand; foreigners don’t understand Thai culture and Thailand has never been colonized. Perhaps most farang don’t understand exactly what Thai culture is but, from what I’ve seen over the many years of living here, neither do a lot of Thais’. To your average man on the street Thai culture is something that neither needs defending, or explaining; it’s simply how, and what, you are. If you head up to some village, in the north east of the country, and try telling some dirt poor rice farmer that his culture is the most important thing he’s got, after taking a swig of lao kao, he’ll laugh in your face and think you’re an idiot. To him, nothing is more important than three meals of rice a day, a roof over his head and a warm wife to create offspring with.

    A discussion about never being colonized would take pages but, suffice to say, back in the thirteenth century the geographical area, of what is now Thailand, was part of the Angkorian Empire. Can colonization be strictly defined as something which is a relatively recent phenomenon; undertaken only in the last three to four hundred years by colonial powers such as England and France? Do we turn a blind eye to the Angkorian Kingdom because the narrowly focused nationalist sentiment in Thailand doesn’t like to accept, or acknowledge, the influence of the Khmer?

    “Culture is an interesting concept. Aside from the visible things such as language, music, dance, architecture, art, and religion, how would you define Thai culture?” I said.

     “Well, it’s the way in which we interact with each other and our polite manner. It’s the ways in which we respect our parents and elders. It’s our consideration of other’s feelings and, at all times, the way in which we try to avoid confrontation which may cause embarrassment. It’s our reverence for the royal family, our Buddhist beliefs, our land and ancestors” she said as a matter of fact.

    “Okay, I can go along with some of that but what about the hierarchal system of society originating from a feudal background” 

    She looked at me non plussed.

    “That’s not Thai culture”

    “Well greng jai is, isn’t it?”

    “Well yes, we respect our elders and people in positions of authority?”

    “There’s more to it than that though isn’t there?”

    “What do you mean?”

    “How about unquestioned obedience by subordinates to those in actual, or perceived, higher status positions even if decisions being made by those in higher status positions are clearly wrong, or incorrect, and are followed to the detriment of the business or organization”

    “Well, sometimes we do have inefficiencies’ and poor decision making at leadership levels”

    “I think you’re just being polite. The fact is that, so often in Thailand, people get promoted on length of service and not merit. It’s the kind of mentality that holds businesses, organizations and the whole country back. You can never realize your true potential because the older, more senior guy is always beyond reproach and criticism. The younger, more talented people have to bite their lips because they don’t want the guys, who are higher up the ladder, to lose face. And we know what that means in Thailand don’t we?”

    “What?”

    “Payback”

    “Perhaps. It’s just the way things are though. In our own way we get things done”

    “Yeah, but there’s an opportunity cost isn’t there?”

    “Like what?”

    “Like the fact that Vietnam and Malaysia will slowly but surely move past Thailand in terms of economic development”

    “Maybe. That’s really more to do with economics though and not the influence of Thai culture”

    “Sorry but it’s got everything to do with it”

    “Why?”

    “Because the whole greng jai thing has its’ roots in the ages old hierarchal system of allegiance to the patron, or Nai. The vestiges of which are still clearly evident today, at the most basic level, in most villages and communities in Thailand”

    “You mean the kamnan?”

    “Yes, the village chief”

    “Well that’s our Thai system. Why do you think that’s so wrong anyway?”

     “Because one man can hold sway over the thoughts and motivations of an entire group that’s why. His unchallenged word can influence the village into making decisions which may not necessarily be to the benefit, or liking, of the group but they go along with it because no one dare challenge the nai. It’s a feudal mentality that affords the opportunity for cronyism, inefficiency and corruption to exist”

     “Well Mike, if you think there are so many things wrong with Thailand, and Thai people, why do you come here. Is it just for the cheap and easy sex?”

    “Probably just the cheap and easy sex” I said wryly.

    Cue the disgusted look on her face.

    “Look, if you’re going to adopt that defensive ostrich position then we’re wasting our time continuing this little discussion” I said.

    “Why is it an Ostrich position?”

    “Head in the sand. Knowing what’s really going on around you but not wanting to acknowledge it and, by doing so, hoping that it all just goes away”

    No answer. Cue pouting and pissed off look. I think I may have ruined my chances for a bit of leg over later in the evening. Time for an olive branch.

    “There are a lot of things that I like about Thailand; the climate, the food, the beaches and, most importantly, the friendliness and general decency of most Thai’s. Over the years that I’ve been here I’ve worked with a lot of ordinary Thais, particularly trades’ people, and I’ve found them to be some of the best in their chosen skills. It’s just the old ruling elitist system that I don’t have much regard for. It’s seems as though anyone that gets into position where they can put on a uniform, particularly government employees and public servants, immediately get the idea that the masses are there to cater to them and not, as it is in most other parts of the world, the other way round. It seems to be an old world mentality that places position and face above accountability”

    “You’re not criticizing the Royal family are you?”

    “No, not at all. I think they are the only thing that really binds this country together”

    “Well, who are you criticizing?”

    “I’m not criticizing anyone Nat. I’m saying that it’s a huge pity that this nation is not able to realize its full potential simply because of an underlying mentality which has people convinced that, as soon as they achieve a position of influence and power, being held accountable is a lower priority to maintenance of position and face”

    “I think I understand what you’re saying Mike but, the fact is, we Thai just accept that’s how things are. Thailand, in reality, is a very class conscious society. Much as we don’t like to admit it, we’ve been brainwashed since birth into accepting that Hi-so and low-so are realities of life here”

    “You mean brown skinned field hands are unpalatable to the fair skinned elite of Bangkok?”

    “Yes, we have trouble coming to terms with the idea that farangs like being with bargirls from Isaan”

    “Sorry to disappoint you Nat but most farangs don’t see a problem with it. Anyway, why is it such a big deal?”

    “It’s just that Hi-so people often regard Isaan people simply as a supply of cheap labour for doing menial tasks such as serving and cleaning up”

    “So, what we see on Thai soapies’ is, in reality, a mirror image of real life?”

    “Unfortunately so Mike. It’s just not politically correct to say so”

    “Well I guess most farang in Thailand are simply living in blissful ignorance then. The thing is that, once you’ve been here for a while, the idea that being white skinned and wealthy is the only thing that counts isn’t an image that’s hard to notice. It’s a troubling little fantasy land image that’s seen in all the media. Hell, it’s even shoved in your face constantly on the sky train advertising”

    “Why do you say it’s a fantasy land image?”

    “Because ninety percent of the population doesn’t live like that, that’s why. It’s a completely unrealistic representation of the social strata of Thailand. The message that’s being delivered amounts to little more than; if you’re white skinned and wealthy you’ve achieved a status rivaling a deity. If you’re brown skinned and poor, well, you’re professionally pathetic and you don’t count”

    “Oh, so you think that Soi Cowboy and Nana Plaza are a more realistic representation of life in Thailand, do you Mike?”

    “Well let’s just say that farang that spend their money down there are probably adding to the Thai economy, in a more effective way, than the ‘rice fields are so picturesque at sunset’ crowd”

    “Who are they?” she said with a puzzled look.

    “The pseudo lovers of Thai culture and history that prattle on about the evils of prostitution; who are firmly convinced that all girls, on the game, have been forced into it and that all single males, coming to Thailand, are nefarious sex tourists taking advantage of these poor maidens but, at the same time, they’re telling you that the slums are so quaint. The very same slums that most of those girls come from”

    “So you like bargirls do you Mike?”

    “No, and I don’t dislike them either. As much as you don’t want to believe it, they aren’t the manifestation of evil in this country, they’re just a group of ladies from a financially disadvantaged background trying to make their way in this world”

    “Maybe so Mike but they create a poor external image for Thailand. When people overseas start talking about Thailand, the first thing they think of is girls and sex”

    “Well that’s a hell of a lot better than talking about war and killing, isn’t it?”

    “Like I said to begin with, you don’t take our country seriously”

    “Okay then, how would you go about changing that image?”

    “I don’t know. Maybe we could start closing some of the seedy bar areas like Cowboy and Nana”

    “Well that’s going to do Thailand more harm than good”

    “Why?”

    “Two reasons. The first is that it’s going to affect the tourism income because, let’s be honest, most inbound tourism into Thailand is to do with night life and sex, isn’t it?”

    “Possibly. What’s the second reason?”

    “The government will have to build more jails to cope with the increase in crime”

    “Why do you say that?” she said looking slightly perplexed.

    “Because all those dodgy bastards that make a living on the periphery of the sex industry; the yaba dealers, the pimps, the hustlers and the lazy Thai boyfriends, who are leaching off their prostitute girlfriends, are going to have get money from somewhere. The easiest option for them is more crime. And, besides all of that, what about the ancillary support businesses – the beauty salons, sexy clothing retailers, coffee shops, som tam carts, alcohol retailers, hotels, etc., – that ride to success on the back of the sex industry?”

    “Okay, I get your point; it’s not a realistic idea”

    “No it’s not. It would cause an enormous social upheaval. That’s why, even though prostitution in Thailand is officially illegal, the authorities turn a blind eye to it. The ruling class may not like it but they tolerate it because they know what the ramifications would be if they tried to put a stop to it”

    “Yes but that doesn’t make it right”

    “Look, this whole issue of the farang based prostitution industry is complete bloody hypocrisy anyway”

    “Why?”

    “Because the Thai based prostitution industry is far larger, that’s why. Besides that, I wonder how many Thai male government ministers have got mia noi’s.”

    “Probably quite a few I expect” she said with an air of resignation.

    “Hey dude, what’s shakin’?

    Mark and Pam were back from the dance floor.

    “Not a hell of a lot. Nat and I were just discussing the meaning of life here in the LOS”

    “You mean there’s a meaning to life here? I thought most of us were just here to get as many notches on the belt as possible” said Mark.

    Nat smiled and shook her head “You two really talk quite a lot of bullshit don’t you?”

    I took another pull on my Heineken.

    “Well, I’ve had a lot worse said about me. Mark’s got a point though about the notches on the belt. Ten years down the track you wake up one day and think ‘what was all that about’. I’ve done the notches on the belt thing and, lately, I find myself thinking I’d really like to do something different than hanging out in Bangkok nightclubs talking to beautiful ladies”

    “Give it some more time dude, you’ll get over it” said Mark.

    “Well, what is it that you’d really like to do Mike” said Nat.

    “You really want to know” I said looking her in the eye.

    “Why not?”

    “Okay. How about you and I running naked through the jungle then jumping into a cool freshwater pool and having animal like sex” I said.

    “You’ve got a dirty mind” she said looking a bit embarrassed.

    “You’re not saying you wouldn’t though”

    “I’ll think about it” she said with a cheeky smile.

    I guarantee if I offered her the right amount she’d be up for it in a heartbeat.

    “Anyone wants another drink” said Mark.

    “We’re thinking about heading down to the Bed Club” said Pam.

    “What’s the Bed Club?” I said.

    “She means the Bed Supper Club dude. It’s just back down Soi Eleven”

    “Any good?” I said.

    “It’s okay. It’s something similar to this but a bit more of a trendy night club” said Mark.

    “Oh, another bloody poseur’s joint. This, I need to have a look at. Any objections to us joining you girls?”

    “Are you paying for the drinks Mike?” said Nat.

    “Is the Pope a catholic?” I said laconically.

    “I think so” she said with a puzzled look.

    Mark and I had a chuckle as we started to make our way to the exit.

    A few minutes later we were looking up at a rather strange looking building that looked not too dissimilar to an elongated, corrugated iron, water storage tank laying on its’ side. There was a long, inclined ramp leading up to the midpoint of the structure. Pam and Nat began to make their way up. We followed and, in doing so, I noticed a couple of Kathoeys leaning against the ramps’ handrail.

    “Looks as though these buggers are getting in everywhere these days”

    “It’s just part of life over here dude. Heck, they’ve even got toilets for the third sex in some high schools here now”

    “TIT mate” I countered.

    At the top of the ramp we turned into an alcove which formed the entrance to the nightclub. There were actually two nightclubs to choose from as the building was divided in half. We paid the six hundred baht entrance fee and the girls led the way to the door on the left.

    “What’s over that side?” I said to Nat as we pushed through the crowd around the door.

    “That’s techno, this is hip hop”

    I gathered she preferred hip hop then. From the little I’d heard, and seen, there seemed to be no difference; it was all loud.

    “Let’s go up to the balcony. We can check things out from up there” she said.

    The main dance floor/lounge area was fairly small and already congested with the crowd that was now in there. The balcony level above seemed like a good idea. As we moved towards the stairway, which went up to the balcony level, I was getting a good close-up look at the babes that were milling about. Some were in the hot category but there was also a lot of mutton done up as lamb; ladies that were dressed very well but a close look at their faces revealed the tell tale signs of maturity. A maturity that was disguised by plenty of caked on ‘war paint’.

    We took up a position about half way along the length of the nightclub. A waiter set upon us, almost immediately, and we ordered a round. Nat and Pam were into the groove already and were gyrating around. The volume coming from the sound system was so loud that a conversation was only possible by yelling at each other. I looked down and took in the surroundings. The place was packed and the seething masses below were into the groove from the sounds coming from the DJ’s turntable. A new song came on and the crowd cheered. There were lots of young clubbing mongers below doing their best to impress the ladies with their slick moves.

    A couple of white skinned, hi-so types pushed past us with their noses in the air; more of the ‘my shit doesn’t stink’ crowd. Mark looked at them and laughed.

    “What was it you were saying about mice earlier dude?”

    “One of those fake rubber snakes would come in handy now” I said with a laugh.

    The music boomed out and with each new song the crowd let out a ‘woohoo’. Most of them seemed to be gyrating in their own little world. Maybe on some kind of chemical mood enhancer, who knows? There seemed to be some kind preoccupation with a hand in the air as part of their dance moves.

    “What’s the deal with the hand thing” I said to Mark.

    “They’re just into the groove dude”

    “Well it’s certainly not very original is it?”

    “What do you mean?”

    “John Travolta started that back in seventy six mate”

    “Seventy six?”

    “Yeah, Saturday Night Fever. Everything else that follows is just poor imitation. Travolta was the man; he had all these moves and more. He was the epitome of slick on the dance floor”

    “Dude, you need to move with the times; we’ve gone beyond wide collars and flares?”

    “Yeah, sadly it seems”

    The drinks arrived and I decided I’d just get blasted on Jack and cokes. Mark was right, I was an anachronism. The world had moved on and, to put it bluntly, I wasn’t too impressed. Most young guys I saw these days were soft. Oh, they looked the part with their impressive muscles and slick moves on the dance floor but put them outside under the sun with some hard graft, and some sweat on their brows, and it wouldn’t take long for them to start whining. These days it’s all about computer games and PSP’s; don’t waste your time asking them to tie a knot or use an adjustable spanner.

    I took another slug of my JD and looked along the balcony. One of the white skinned, Hi-so’s had collared some young farang and was now in the process of dry rooting him on one of the beds up here on the balcony; she was sitting on top of him and bouncing up and down like there was no tomorrow. So much for the prim and proper ladies of the Bangkok Hi-so fraternity. At the end of the day, once they’ve got a few drinks under their belts, they aren’t that much different to their low-so sisters down on Soi cowboy in that they like a good shagging as well. I looked at my watch; it was one thirty am. The planned early night and the disciplined approach to alcohol consumption was now history. The drinks waiter came by again and Nat ordered another round. The DJ put on what sounded like a familiar tune; an up tempo version of Michael Jacksons’ ‘Thriller’. Is nothing sacred these days? The crowd went woohoo again and there were more hands waving in the air. The white skinned Hi-so that was, moments ago, bouncing away on top of the young farang tried to push past me without saying excuse me. I stood my ground as she tried to squeeze past. Our thighs touched and she gave me a supercilious, offended look. I smiled, stuck my tongue out, and imitated giving her a licking. Nat and Pam turned to see what was going on and the offended, white skinned, Hi-so gave them an earful in Thai and stormed off. Nat and Pam gave me a disapproving look and I decided I’d better, for the sake of improving my chances later in the evening, pull my horns in. I took another large slug of JD. The last time I’d gone on a JD fuelled bender I’d been in a bar in Baku chewing on the ‘norks’ of some blonde, Russian hooker, at three am in the morning. It was time to dial it down a bit.

    The DJ was in the groove and the crowd was getting amped up as the clocked ticked down towards stumps.  According to Mark stumps, in here, was at two thirty am. I checked my watch; it was just after two. There was some frenetic activity starting to take place in the ‘line up the squeeze for the night stakes’. A collision of diametrically opposed wants and needs. Ladies who had been holding out for a higher price versus the young clubbing monger waiting, for the end of the night, to pay a lower price. But not waiting too long as, to do so, would invite competition from others who were eyeing up the same piece of pussy. At two fifteen, the maneuvering for positions was in full swing. Same shit, different venue; the only difference was probably the going rate. Groups of girls who’d, earlier on, looked aloof and unapproachable were now enthusiastically welcoming prospective clients. Some, not getting the price they figured they were worth, were going to the pussy hotline; cell phones must be worth their weight in gold to some of these girls. Somehow, Nat had entwined herself around me and was using her, more than ample, charms to line me up for the night. No doubt the alcohol, and the mood of the moment, had relegated our earlier differences of opinion, over the meaning of life here in the LOS, to her scrap bin of lower priorities.

    The music stopped, the lights came on and we started to make our way towards the exit. The inclined ramp up to the entrance was now the inclined ramp down to the road. As the bodies spilled out from both halves of the building it reminded me of a line from an old Johnny Cash song; we rolled out into the mud, the blood and the beer. The ramp was now a congested mass of bodies, lined up along the length of both handrails, as we ran the gauntlet down to the road. The thought that this wasn’t any different to any of the other P4P venues, in Bangkok, came to mind. At this very moment the same little ‘Peyton Place’ theatrics were being replicated, at exactly the same time, at Nana car park, Cowboy and the Thermae, etc – earnest negotiating about pussy and price. We stood on Soi Eleven.

    “Do you want to go somewhere else?” said Nat.

    I looked at Mark. He shrugged and looked undecided.

    “To be honest Nat, I think I’d like to go home” I said.

    “Where are you staying?”

    “I’m staying at Marks condo down on Soi four. We’ve got a couple of bottles there; do you want to come with us?”

    Nat and Pam got together and started a private little conversation in Thai. I’d seen this routine so often before and knew where it was going to. It was either one of two things; they were both agreeing on the minimum price they would accept from us or they weren’t that keen, due to one reason or another, and were deciding what to do. They came back towards us, linked their arms through ours, and then moved us apart. It was the minimum price routine then; highly skilled operators these two.

    “You know Mike, I don’t want you to think badly of me but I have a few expenses I need to pay at the end of this month”

    “And you’d like me to help you in paying those expenses”

    “Yes” she said with a confident look in her eyes.

    “How much are we talking about then?”

    “Ha pun baht ka?” she said with an impish grin.

    Thai women; you can’t live without them and you can’t kill them.

    “Hmmm” I said.

    “It’s not much Mike. I know you have a good job and get paid well”

    “Really; how do you know that?”

    “Pam told me”

    I looked at Mark, who was in earnest negotiation with Pam. So much for not revealing any personal details about each other. I’ll need to give him a reminder prior to venturing out next time.

    “What do you think Mike?” she said looking into my eyes again.

    “What do I think Nat.? There’s only one thing I need to know on nights like these”

    “What?” she said expectedly.

    “For Ha Pun baht”

    “Yes”

    “Before coming out tonight, did you shave?”

    { 3 comments }

    STOP THE PRESS ON PATTAYA BEACH

    by Fiedee on July 25, 2010

    in General

    Today: Sunday 

    I know where I am today and I know how I got here. Footballer Pete has just run up shouting “Stop the press! Stop the press!” Yes, he says. He’s nodding. Sitting on my left is Wendy. She’s smiling. We’re still on the beach front looking out at the sea. It’s a lovely day. Pete’s crew have just wandered off across to the other side of the road.

    As some of you will find out, yesterday Pete asked me to publish his press release “as is” Pete is nodding affirmatively and Wendy’s is nodding as well, and smiling. Now, I haven’t told you this yet, but I’ll tell you now. Pete now wants me to rub out the rough edges. 

    No, Pete, I’m not going to do that…. Wendy is. Wendy didn’t know that. She’s shrugging her shoulders and now’s she’s nodding slowly, deliberately and assentfully. I think I’ve just made that word up. I like making words up. 

    OK. I’m leaving the notebook with Wendy and Peter and I’m going to wander off for an hour along the beach. If I see any of you while I’m walking, I’ll look in your direction and nod. If you see me, you can nod too and if you want to stop and have a chat and perhaps a cup of tea, that’s all right as well. 

    Yesterday’s Prospective Post: Saturday

     ROUGH AS WORKS 

    I’m sitting on Pattaya Beach and I’m not sure how I got here. The last I can remember, I was sitting on a stool near to a street noodle vendor somewhere in Bangkok. I’m here now, so I’ll make the most of it. 

    Sitting nearby is Football Pete aka Gorgeous Pete. Stop! Hold your horses. Before you ladies get excited and come running down here, stay seated. Hold back. His mates gave him that name because he’s the opposite: he’s not gorgeous at all and I’m backing them up on that one. 

    He’s down here on holiday with eight of his crew. They’ve been here for nearly a week, or is it more? They’re having a really good time and they’re still excited about being here, even though some of them come here every year on an annual peeler. 

    They’ve been doing their best, as always when they come here, so they say, to drum up a bit of support and lots of publicity for themselves. Ain’t that right, Pete? Yes, he says. Pete’s just asked me to write about him and his crew to help them on that quest, in return for a beer. Can’t be bad. Pete’s just walked on over to the drinks lady to get me my beer. And he says he’ll buy you one too, if you go up to him and say Hello Pete. I’ll write a description of him below, so you’ll recognise him. 

    Pete’s a lumbering giant. He’s about six foot five. He’s got two big arms, a crew cut, and a big belly. Probably, brought on by the luxury of beer. He looks about fifty-five. I could be wrong about that. He could be a bit older. Today, he’s wearing shorts, a vest, braces, long socks and long DM’s. He’s got two tattoos. One on his left arm and one on his right.The one on his left, looks like an anchor. The one on his right looks like a mermaid and it’s got two sets of letters below it with a heart in between. He speaks with a London accent.

    His crew look similar. Most are shorter than Pete. I can’t be bothered to describe them all in detail.Right now they’re scattered around here, but not too far away from Pete. They’ve all got a big bottle of beer in their hands. Three are skirting the beach, playing with the water. Two are talking to a couple of young lady holiday makers perched behind me on the wall back there. One of Pete’s mates is coming back this way with Pete, who’s holding a couple of beers. Cheers, Pete. He’s just handed me the beer. Give me a minute. That’s better. I’ve just nodded at Pete. It’s a bit warmer than I like it, but I won’t complain. Another of his mates has just gone off to get some beach grub. OK, Pete. Pete’s just wandered off to talk to the young ladies on the wall. 

    I haven’t seen DM boots for a long time, but I’ve just been told, by Wendy sitting behind me, who I have also just met, (She’s reading what I’m writing and listening to my conversations with Pete) that you can buy them here in Pattaya, but she’s not sure where. If you can help out with that one, George, one of Pete’s mates, over there will buy you a drink when you’re in the same hostelry as him. So keep a sharp look out for Pete and ask him to point out George.

    Pete’s just handed me a piece of paper with some words on it. He wants me to type it out. He doesn’t want me to change anything, including the spelling. He’s already bought me a beer, so I will. Here goes:

    The Present: Sunday 

    Wendy here. Back to Sunday again, that’s today. Pete’s first press release, yesterday’s press release that is, is now in the process of being changed. I’m underlining the new bits. 

    It’s ready now. You can read the finished product below.

    PETE’S Updated Press Release

    Pete’s Log 

    THE START (Last week)

     Saturday:

    I’ve cut out all the filth from this. All the bad language, the violence and the sex. Children will be reading it. I haven’t cut out the jokes and the laughs, that’s ok. They’re used to that. I’m writing this because we’re nice people.There are nine of us. Some of us are over six foot tall and weigh more than 20 stone. Most of us aren’t. 

    No matter. We’re enthusiatic, youthful, older gentlemen in a mid-life crises.We’re clobbered. Got the gear. Boots, braces, denims, gloves. Bought the gloves in Beach. That’s a code word.No one can touch us. No one, no one. I’m chanting. We’re gentlemen. No bones. We’re over here for a laugh.

     Pete chants: Been before. Countless. Countless. Been before. Been before. Countless, countless. 

    Every night.We’re on holiday. We meet people and make them laugh.Watch out. Forewarned. Watch out! We’ve arrived. We’re the Healthy Mob. Code if you don’t know it. 

    Pete’s mates chant: Here five days, here to stay. Here we go, here we go; Watch out, watch out. Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. Don’t you shout; don’t you shout. 

    Sunday

    We’ve rekkied a joint. Bugger spelling. Is it reckeyed or recced? We’re going to do it again. Done it in Pompey. Had drinks. Had a laugh. Wanna make new friends. And they want to know us. Lovely, lovely. Spend, spend, spend Happy, happy. Said we looked like friendly, generous, old gentlemen. We got money. Booze on booze. We’re boozers. Paid the bills. Give it some. Yeah.

    Pete’s mates chant: Yeah, yeah we’re boozers; yeah, yeah we’re boozers. Give it some. Give it some. Lovely birds; they’re the best.. They’re the best. Lovely birds, they’re the best. They’re the birds.

    Monday

    We’re going to run down Walking, with all our mates, having a laugh. No one can do nothing.None can stop us. They’ll all see who we are. 

    Pete chants: We are the Supporters. Yeah, yeah, yeah. the Supporters. Say it again. Yeah, yeah, the Supporters. Show respect. Blah, blah. Blow my trumpet. Blow my trumpet. 

    Pete’s mates: Supporters, Supporters, we are the Supporters. Come down and join us; come down and join us; we’ll make you breathless. We’ll make you speechless. Come down and join us. We’ll make you breathless. We’ll make you speechless. 

    Tuesday

    Fell over. Drunk as farts.One and all, banged our ‘eds.. No one did it; can’t take credit. White Joint, taken, on old stretchers. Them in white saved our arse. Lucky here. Owe them credit.. To our delight, back on street, bandiged ‘eds,. No more frights. We’re old bastards. We’re old bastards. 

    Pete chants; Here we go, here we go. Watch out, watch out. Watch out, watch out, watch out, watch out. We’re out, we’re out; we’re about. We’re old bastards; we’re old bastards. 

    Pete’s mates chant: We’re old bastards; we’re old barstards; no one can ave use, no one can ave us. 

    Wednesday

    Out on Six. Makes me tick. Hello darling, you ain’t mine. Got my missus, in the bushes. Look on yonder, by the sea. See her smiling, she is mine. Got you wondering what I’m doin; I’m just here to make you fink. 

    Pete chants: make you fink; make you fink; yeah, yeah, make you fink. Come on lads. 

    Pete’s mates chant: missus make you fink, make you fink, make you fink, make you fink, make you fink, make you fink….. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.We’ll make you laugh, we’ll make you laugh.

     Thursday. 

    We love football. We play football. Some of us have boxed a bit. And we’re bored. 

    I’m telling you this, so you can join us, if you want. Some of our crew are educated. Don’t believe it? It’s up to you. We’re professionsals, which is why you want to know why I can write. We’re accountants, lawyers, office workers. 

    Pete’s mates chant: We’re accountants, we are lawyers, office workers. Here we go, here we go, Here we go, here we go. 

    Pete chants: Come and join us, come and join us. 

    THE END

    Yesterday: Saturday

    Back to me. Pete’s just invited me to join him and his crew for a trip up to Naklua. He says it will be a laugh. He’s standing here while I’m writing this just to check. No thanks, Pete. You’re a gentleman, but not to day, mate. To be honest, I don’t like Naklua. 

    Pete and his mates have just walked off in the direction of Naklua with a few of the holiday making ladies they were talking to. 

    Now that Pete’s walked off, I don’t really think they are football supporters after reading what Pete handed to me.If anyone can tell me what they are, please do. OK, Wendy. Really? Wendy thinks they’re just holiday makers having a laugh, but don’t tell Pete or his crew. 

    I’ve got a difficult decision to make, now. Do I stay here on the Beach for the night or do I try to get myself into a room near the beach. Do you think, so? Wendy’s just told me it could rain, so I’m going to head off to try and find a room. Oh… she says she’s going to help me find one. Thanks, Wendy. You’re a mate.

    Today: Sunday – Back to the present 

    Back here now with Pete and Wendy. Spotted one or two of you. I nodded..I’m not sure you saw me.

    Had a chat with one bloke and told him about Pete’s press release. Says he’s seen Pete and his crew around. He’s going to say hello to Pete when he sees him next time cause he wants a free drink. Are you still up for that Pete? Pete’s nodding. Pete’s crew are still across the road… deep in conversation. Couldn’t help George yet though. No one seems to know where to buy the Docs.

    Pete seems happier now with his press release. Wendy says she wanted to change more of it, but Pete wasn’t happy with that. Some of you want to know why Pete decided to change it. Wendy’s laughing. Pete’s looking down at the sand. 

    It’s like this…Pete’s new friend said that what he originally wrote wasn’t very nice and she asked him to change it. Where is she Pete? Oh, I see…sitting on the wall. Why doesn’t she come over here? Pete’s just wandered over to talk to her. 

    Wendy’s checking the computer and her face has just dropped. What’s wrong Wendy? Ah…Never mind. Leave it now. She says all the underlining has disappeared. Never mind Wendy. John and Hillary will be able to work that out for themselves. Now, she’s smiling. She’s having a laugh.

    What next? Wendy’s asked me to travel with her to Chiang Mai. I don’t think I’m ready for that Wendy. I’m thinking about heading over to Jomtien. See you next week. Cheers then.

    { 2 comments }

    Bangkok – Renting Modern Condos VS Older Condos – A closer look

    by CondoBangkokOrg on July 25, 2010

    in Accommodation,General

    It seems these days everyone wants a Modern Bangkok Condo with large square meter (metre). Most of the clients that call us about renting all seem to be trending towards getting larger square meter (metre) for their baht. Very rarely do we get clients who will accept an older condo.

    So the question is can you get a modern condo which is also a decent size?

    The answer to this depends on how flexible you are with your requirements. The biggest difference between the two is square meter (metre), in that Older Condos provide much more space than newer units. Case in point, Sukhumvit Soi 59 which has a cluster of new and old buildings located not too far from each other.

    A closer look at the difference between 2 buildings in the same Soi;

    Moon Tower – Built in the 1990’s with facilities such as a pool, gym, sauna, squash, a beautiful garden area to relax in and 24 hour security. A fully furnished 2 bed, 2 bath condo here offers 202 square meters (metres) renting for 50,000 baht/month. The units here are very clean and the building itself is maintained quite well.

    59 Heritage – This building was just completed this year (2010) and has facilities such as a pool, gym, steam room, garden area and 24 hour security. A fully furnished 2 bed, 2 bath condo here offers a mere 70 square meters (metres) of space for 45,000 to 50,000 baht/month.

    Some quick math and we realize that the difference is not subtle but substantial. For almost the same price you would get 132 square meters (metres) more, that’s almost another condo in itself.

    Similarly a new 1 bed, 1 bath condo would be around 42 square meter (metre) for 20,000 baht/month as opposed to an older unit with modern furniture offers a 1 bed, 1 bath condo around 63 square meter (metre) for the same price.

    Again the question arises is it possible to get a modern condo with larger square meter (metre)? The answer is yes it is, but you have to make some sacrifices in your requirements. There are some older buildings that have completely renovated the entire building including majority of the units, to be clean and modern with very desirable square meter (metre). There is a building like this in On Nut that offers great value for money where a 2 bed, 2 baht condo is completely modern at a 135 square meter (metre) for only 40,000 baht/month. I know what you’re thinking, who wants to live in On Nut? Well I did mention you would have to flexible with your requirements, didn’t I?

    So all in all is it possible to get a Brand NEW Modern condo with large square meter (metre)? The answer is unfortunately No because they just don’t build them like they used to. But you could find older buildings which have been renovated to look modern.

    If you are in search of new modern condos then visit www.condobangkok.org, alternately if you don’t mind older buildings have a look at this site www.relianceps.com.

    Author Sam Chotalia. Copyright 2010 Sam Chotalia

    { 3 comments }

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