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Marty and Joe had
told us Bangkok had been just a warm-up for the real action in Pattaya.
“Now how could the sex capital of the world be just a warm-up for
somewhere else?” I asked myself.
Pattaya was much larger than I had imagined, being much more than a
quaint little tropical tourist area. With more than a quarter million
residents its size would take some getting used to. Which is a good
thing. There are over 2,000 bars here.
Soon after our arrival, Joe took us out onto a couple of the Soys, short
side streets where one can often find lots of action. Even in mid
afternoon, there must have been over a hundred girls in two blocks.
General Patton got hung up right from the start, allowing himself to be
detained by the first several women accosting us.
General Patton was like a meat
inspector buying beef for Oscar Mayer. We watched him up close,
girls all over him, examining the merchandise with a hard stare on
his face.
“I need to find someone to take back to the hotel,” Patton had told us,
“because I want to do anal with someone else tonight. But that’s
tonight. Right now I want a girl in her early thirties. Tonight I want
someone in her late teens.”
PlOne and I walked the two block strip. At the end was one of the city’s
main streets which was lined with a long narrow beach on the other side.
We spied a small group of “Lady Boys” at the end of our short trek. Lady
Boys were men who had tried to become girls. Whether they had or not
depended upon one’s point of view. We had heard that most had their
penises cut off, and then had been further operated on for the formation
of vaginas. Many–most–had breast implants. We had read in, “Private
Dancer, an online book that some of the book’s male characters actually
preferred Katooies or Lady Boys to real women, contending that no one
actually knows what a man wants sexually better than another man.
PlONe and I were grossed out at the prospect of mistaking a Lady Boy for
a woman. “What would happen if one of us brought a Kattoie back to our
hotel and didn’t discover that the woman had been a man in an earlier
life until his new bed partner had undressed? PlONe had always reassured
me that if one paid close attention one could always tell before things
got out of hand. But I liked to drink, and who knows how my powers of
observation might fail after having a few.
Seeing our first Lady Boys reassured me. There was definitely something
odd about the way they looked. Even after having a few, I doubted I
would be deceived. But there were only a half dozen, perhaps a dozen
lady boys on this particular street at this time. And although we walked
up and down the street twice, none of the girls really appealed to
either one of us. Give us a dark bar during the night, and things would
have been different. We both agreed on that.
Patton got himself taken care of. I think one or two of the other guys
did too at one of the small bars on the little street. PlONe and I went
back empty and joined the Man Tour group of guys for dinner around 6:30
p.m.
The restaurant was a buffet where the food was quite good. But most of
the dishes were cold. At each buffet table an attendant waited until the
diner chose whatever fish or meat he wanted, then stir fried it as the
customer waited. For a buffet all of this was pretty time consuming.
After all of us had finished eating, it was time to head out to get a
night tour of Pattaya and to pick up girls.
One of the toughest things about Pattaya was crossing the street. There
were no traffic lights meant for pedestrians or crossings where the
pedestrian had the right of way. As we waited for our opening to run out
onto the other side of the street, cars and motor scooters converged on
us. Immediately we could tell that here there was no respect for
pedestrians and that we would never have the right of way. We had heard
the motor bikes were the most dangerous since their drivers were likely
to come out of nowhere–from a side street or even from the wrong
direction, driving against the flow of traffic. And there were a lot
more motor bikes than cars. Finally all of us managed to get across the
street where we boarded two baht buses.
A baht bus actually costs ten baht or twenty-five cents American. But if
you are Thai, it’s only five baht, and if you are a foreigner...that is
non Thai, it’s going to run you ten baht apiece if a Thai woman is with
you. If the girl is traveling alone she gets the preferential Thai rate.
Arrangements are Spartan, since the baht bus is a Toyota or Nissan
pickup or the equivalent with a canopy over its bed to protect the
occupants from rain. Down each side of the small pickup’s bed is a
simple bench on which three or four people can sit, or up to eight
altogether since the occupants sit facing each other on two small
benches running parallel to each other.
There is a trick to using the baht buses and that is to never tell the
driver where you are going. Otherwise one is going to be charged the
much higher rate one pays taxis. There is a buzzer one pulls in the back
of the truck to notify the driver that at least one passenger wants to
get off. When he hears it he will pull off to the side of the road
a.s.a.p.
One never knows who one’s going to see or meet on a baht bus, and
there’s lots of baht buses in Pattaya. But one has to have a pretty
clear idea of where one is going in order to get the cheap rate. But
Pattaya is the kind of place that is user friendly and easy to get to
know. For those not afraid to put some mileage on their legs, which I
definitely recommend since most Americans are sadly out of shape, and
democratic enough to get into the back of a small pickup with whomever,
getting around in Pattaya is quick, easy and cheap.
Our destination was Soy Seven and Eight. Our group of fifteen guys or so
ambled down Soy eight. A few of the guys had their cameras with them.
Joe, our trip leader, had his video camera. I now saw how Joe got his
videos that emphasized just how quick and easy it was to pick up or be
picked up by women in Pattaya. No doubt we would be part of his next VHS
tape the Man Tour would use as a marketing tool.
Get a video camera going and I get to be quite the showoff. Then again.
A lot of us are. And here I was surrounded by hundreds of women, and
about all of them were probably thinking along the same lines. Lined
with bars, Soy Eight was narrow. Nevertheless, there were a lot of motor
scooters barreling down the street, their drivers heedless of the
pedestrians walking defenseless as they took in the nearly unlimited
supply of bar girls who seemed everywhere. Most of the girls stood or
sat in the small bars lining the street like so many Parisian cafes
while others strolled right out into the middle of pedestrians including
us. Some would reach out to take us gently by the hand as others called
out to us.
I am not sure what the average Thai family makes. But I’ve heard it’s
fifty or a hundred dollars a month. Whatever it is, the average Thai
earns just a fraction of what the average guy in the Man Tour makes.
Hooking up with one of us has to offer a realistic opportunity to
drastically improve the economic reality of her life for most Thai
women. And if it is true that men from all over the world come to
Thailand to have affairs with the women the competition for such men is
immense. On Soy Eight and Soy Seven which runs parallel to it, there
must have been two hundred women, out of which I could have my pick.
Such odds are undreamed of in the U.S. and Soy Eight and Seven are just
two of many such streets in Pattaya.
With Joe close by running his video camera I spied several friendly
looking girls at a small outdoor bar. Wanting to show off on video, I
went over to them, and put my arms around the prettiest girl in the
group. Noticing Joe pointing his video camera at us, the girl started to
play her part perfectly. Someone around me had a huge dildo which I put
up to my groin while standing close to the girl. I then had her and
another girl sit down on two chairs as I put my head in the my little
actresses’s lap. She played her role perfectly. I then rejoined the
group which continued down Soy Eight, took a cross street over to Soy
Seven, then proceeded in the direction we had come from a short block
away.
“We have to go back so I can find that girl on Soy Eight,” I told PlOne.”
I liked the looks of the girl. And she had a playful attitude, but most
of them did. There was something a little more that I still have a hard
time defining. Perhaps it was that she was more intelligent than the
average girl which I could sense from the get go and an even greater
alertness. Or was it more an even finer developed sense of humor? I
would later find out for myself that this girl had the uncommon ability
to find comedy in many situations that would be lost on most people. She
had certainly been easy to be around in my first brief encounter with
her.
Although we encountered more than a few girls the rest of the way down
Soy Eight and the complete distance up Soy Seven to the main drag, none
of them intrigued me like the girl who had posed with me before Joe’s
video camera. I had told her I would come back for her and she had
probably not believed me. But PlOne stayed with me until we walked a
third of the way down Soy Eight for the second time. She was still
there. She immediately saw me and caught my eye.
I bought both of us a beer. And then I told Plone not to look out after
me and that he should tell the group that I would soon be well taken
care of as I pointed to the girl. I would take her back to the hotel and
that would be that, I decided. The bar which was open to the street must
not have been more than fifty feet long or wide. Another bar adjoined
it. At first it was difficult to decide where the first bar ended and
the place next to it started. One girl stood behind the bar. She was the
bartender I supposed. Another woman who had a slight curl in her hair
came up to me smiling. “Please come and visit tomorrow,” she said
affably. She did not seem or look Thai. Later, much later, I decided
that she probably was. But whatever she was, she was the epitome of
hospitality. I had brought my Canon G-2 camera with me on this trip, not
my very expensive Nikon D-1 X. Somehow I got the immediate impression
from this owner, who’ I’d place in her early thirties, that if I left
the camera on a chair in her bar and passed out, that I could count on
her looking after it for me, before seeing to it that I either got back
to my hotel or was put in the hands of someone responsible whether
herself or someone else.
But although this most cordial of bar owners had put me at ease it was
time to take the girl I was with back to my hotel. Her name was Som.
After we walked out of the bar, I showed Som my hotel key. She nodded,
thus acknowledging that she knew exactly where it was. We walked up the
main street when she suddenly got on a baht bus. I leaped up behind her
and joined her on the bench seat.
The hotel was a mile, a mile and a half from Soy Eight. I was not sure
of where it was exactly but when we got close, Som pulled on the cord
attached to the buzzer. The driver immediately swerved off to the side
of the street after which I walked up to the window of the small pickup
and paid him twenty baht. Som walked with me to my hotel. Inside we were
stopped by the girl at the desk who asked my new companion to sign a
guest register and leave her I.D. as collateral for behaving herself. I
took the girl up to my room where she went into the bathroom to start
her shower. I joined her in the shower stall.
It was amazing how small Som was. Four foot ten possibly? But whatever
her height she was in proportion being built merely on a smaller scale
than most American women. Unlike the girl in Bangkok she was not
effusively affectionate. Agreeable, certainly. And definitely
attractive. Skilled beyond a shadow of a doubt. When it was time to
leave or shall I say we decided we should leave she gave me a little bow
of respect, which his something no American woman ever had done before
and probably never will. We then walked down to the hotel lobby where
she retrieved her id from the concierge.
We started walking back towards Soy 8. By this time I was exhausted
having gotten up early in Bangkok that morning after which we rode to
Pattaya, and we had even managed to take a tour in Bangkok visiting the
royal palace in the hot sun. But the girl took me to a street lined with
bars and night clubs, then asked me what I wanted. “You want ladyboy?”
she asked me.
“Now why would I want a lady boy?” I asked.
“You want lady boy,” Som repeated while smiling mischievously.
“You have a boyfriend, I told Som. “I think he’s a lady boy. You like
lady boys which is why you offered me one.”
We ended up going into a go-go bar where we had a drink as we watched a
half dozen girls strutting around a stage with numbers pinned to their
chests.
“You want a girl?” she asked. “I am just a little ole lady.”
“Right. Little ole lady, my ass! “ She had admitted earlier to being 31.
But none of the girls on stage appealed to me all that much, and I was
tired, tired enough not to care if I had another beer or had nothing, or
if we hit another place or not. It was bed time for Jack, who was by
this time on remote control, just going through the motions. But I did
get her phone number. This one I would have to see again.
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