Red-light nights, Bangkok daze

Interesting, because this very bar, for what it lacks in pretty girls, fresh faces and a happening crowd, has always enjoyed a certain favor, it seems, in the eyes of the law. When all the other bars have shuttered for the evening, this little pub crawls on to the wee hours of the morning.

The inevitable questions about my wife, who is a Thai but notably not with me this evening, came quick and fast. I assured them she was well and sent her regards. One of the "girls", who probably passed her prime at some point during the Vietnam War, tried her sexiest voice and broken English to point out to me: "You in Patpong and go out alone tonight, I very lucky!" She groped me improperly and I choked on a swig of beer in unison.

"Not tonight, dear," I said to her with a smile. She pouted, something not easy for a 50-year-old, but she did her best to pull it off.

The girls there are friends and have helped at times when I needed it and I have tried to return the favor when I can. I have become an adoptee to this strange dysfunctional family and it is a relationship that I hold in high regard.

Over the bar there is a wall covered in photos of babies and toddlers. I noted that there were a few more since the last time I was there. I took a moment actually to count the photos, or rather the babies in the pictures, and came to a total of about 73. These are the "bar's babies", the mamasan will tell you proudly - babies had by girls who have worked at the bar and have since gone off to greener pastures, usually in the form of marriage to a customer of foreign origin, a farang.

For more than 15 years she has been collecting the photos and adding them to collection, far longer than many bars in this red-light district last.

"You have baby, you give me picture, okay?" she said; it was more of a directive than a request.

Smiling, I confirmed that I would, though I did take a moment to consider that my wife has never worked there. I think. Anyway, this is not a woman to split hairs with.

I thanked them for everything and promised to visit again soon.

Finding myself again roaming the streets, I decided on a livelier go-go bar and figured that with 60 or so girls and 30 or 40 customers I could blend in and enjoy some anonymity. This assumption would prove incorrect.

Heading for the back of the bar while being groped by innumerable women, I finally located a seat, ordered a drink and got comfortable. On the sizable stage before me 20 or so gorgeous - and some not so gorgeous - girls wriggled away to booming Western pop tunes. I found that I might have chosen my seat poorly; this corner spot at the back had put me far too close to the DJ and his formidable sound system. The base shook my seat and rattled the very soul. But I tried to relax anyway, enjoy my beer and take in the "ambiance".

A journalist needs contacts, and innumerable stories have been built on the leads, tips and sources from people whom I regard as friends who have given me information over the years here. Yet a red-light district is also a place where a man enjoys a measure of anonymity.

I didn't notice the familiar photographer making his way through the bar until he was nearly in front of me. This man makes his livelihood plying the streets of Patpong taking holiday snaps of tourists and selling them. Obviously these are not your average Disney-type family holiday photos. Many are lurid, sexy keepsakes that I imagine many of the men hide away - if they keep them at all.

I was probably distracted by the girl onstage who kept smiling at me flirtatiously - she was an unusual example of a bargirl in that she had designer glasses and braces. First the expense of braces and glasses is often forgone by bar girls, who are there because of their financial woes to begin with; and second it gave her a young "schoolgirl" effect. I decided immediately that she probably does well, very well.

Abruptly, I became aware of the photographer, who seemed just as surprised to happen upon me in the crowd. He stopped short for a second and gave me a respectful wai, to which I nodded and gave a smile. He waved and gave a quick smile and continued wading through the crowd, hoping to make a few bucks.

As quickly as it had happened I realized its effect. While few of the farang customers in the crowd seemed to notice, the action was not lost on numerous bar girls dancing on stage, or the nearby mamasans keeping a watchful eye on all that happened in their club. The set soon ended and the girls on stage began their exit only to be dutifully replaced by another two dozen girls in their bras and g-string panties. For many of those exiting the stage, I found that I was a target of opportunity and interest.

Four or five girls descended on me, cooing, groping, complimenting and questioning me, "Handsome man!" "What your name?" "Big man!" "Where you come from?" "You buy drink for me?" "What you do Thailand?" The mamasan was poised nearby, I assume just in case I decided to yell, "Champagne for everyone!" She could probably issue the drink tab faster than a trader on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange.

At about the same point I became aware of the number of customers who eyed me unappreciatively and suspiciously. I thought I overheard a Brit nearby say, "What's up with this fucking punter?"

The girls needed to be dispersed, and quickly. To my delight the "schoolgirl" was among the girls who were now attempting to suffocate me with their breasts. Grabbing her, I asked her name and offered to buy her a drink - in Thai.

She seemed a bit shocked at my ability to speak her language, but played the part of being sheepishly flattered. It also effectively dispersed the crowd. I had chosen my companion and they knew that this farang was not going to be buying a half-dozen lady drinks - this one was not a greenhorn.

"Farang chalat mak!" one of the girls scoffed playfully as she walked off: "This foreigner knows too much!"

Left alone with the schoolgirl I was able to grab the opportunity to probe a little deeper with an impromptu interview. After some initial niceties and her taking the requisite six seconds to drain a tiny $3 Coke and request another, she finally started to answer some basic questions.

"I am from Bangkok," she said rather assertively, which in itself was also a rarity. Most of the girls working the bars are from farms outside the city and are seeking an escape from rural poverty. It was also plausible; from all initial indicators she was more refined and worldly than most other bargirls and her complexion was nearly white - something the tanned farm girls hold in high regard as a beauty and status symbol.

To queries about family she was less forthcoming, but I soon stumbled on to a subject that she was keen to speak about: education. She claimed to be a student in one of the local universities, where she studied travel, wanting to become a stewardess, or at least work for an airline.

"If not, maybe I can become a travel agent. I want to travel!" Her story seemed to be panning out, her English was among the most flawless examples I had encountered in a long time, and at her age had to be a product of good education. If not, she had this role-play thing down cold, and was milking the schoolgirl angle for all it was worth.

"My parents took me to Malaysia when I was younger - it is very beautiful. We also have gone to Cambodia. I did not like it too much. Cambodia is very poor," she told me authoritatively, as if I might not have heard.

"So why are you working in a bar? Is it to pay for school?" I asked.

Apparently such a notion, that a bargirl could make enough funds to pay for a university education, was absurd, and just the look on her face told me this.

"No, my parents pay for school. But they cannot pay for much more. I work here to take care of myself and buy things I want. I bought these glasses and had my teeth set," she said, fingering her glasses and smiling broadly. "What do you think? Good?"

I conceded that they were nice. She began listing off things she was thinking about getting; among them was the popular nose job to "fix" her flat Thai nose and make it more beautiful like a Westerner's nose with a more pronounced bridge.

Some type of unheard "two-minute warning" went up and she realized she had to go dance again. At about the same point she noticed she had barely touched her second lady drink - all this talking had led her neglect her duty of draining as many of these as possible on a customer's tab (for which she would receive a cut).

Seeing this coming, I pressed a couple of folded 100-baht notes into her hands. She smiled a metallic beam of joy, hugged me roughly, and then began bouncing in a manner that is hard to explain a few times before playfully kissing my cheek and taking the stage.

It was a good time to make an escape. I settled with the mamasan, who was disapproving that I had failed to bar-fine one of her girls. She looked me over with a final look of suspicion and walked off in a huff.

Something tamer was in order, and the guys would be meeting up with me shortly. I settled on a "beer bar", which is a standard open-air-style bar popular throughout Thailand. The girls are generally more fully clothed, the prices are lower and the girls are usually not too friendly in this open environment. It also offered the advantage of allowing me to watch out for my wayward mates as they made their way through the carnal humanity of Patpong.

I might have chosen poorly again - I have a marriage to keep together, mind you. A seat was had and a beer obtained. Since it was still relatively early, the bar had few girls. Most of them hovered around me, testing my Thai, cooling me off with a little moist towel. Massaging, planting an occasional kiss and, as always, groping. With girls in places like this I use Thai immediately and it generally impresses them. It also, as planned, led to the inevitable loaded question. "How did you learn Thai?"

"Mee mia khon Thai laeo," I said, flashing the wedding band as evidence - "I have a Thai wife already."

There was some initial disappointment, but it was fleeting. The girls tried a secondary approach.

"Mai bpen rai, chan bpen mia noi khun," one, and notably the cutest, girl proclaimed - "Don't worry about it, I will be your 'small wife'."

A weary growl escaped me - she was very cute. I bought her and her friend each a lady drink and for a few moments it stopped her from propositioning me.

Taking a mia noi is a practice in Thailand of a man taking a lover or mistress, usually much younger than his true wife. It is reserved for the middle- and upper-class Thais, as the man must be able to provide financial support both for his primary family and his mistress.

This phenomenon gained some attention years back when some government ministers calling for greater transparency of their membership asked that personal finances be disclosed. There was an outcry among the ministers, but not because they feared it would expose graft; rather that it would make taking and keeping a mia noi impossible. In what later would become a sound bite of this controversy, one minister declared, "It is a man's right to have a mia noi!"

While it may be a right among Thai men, it certainly does not apply to farang. Thai women seem to have figured out that in our Western culture such a practice is taboo and thus forbid their farang husbands from having a mia noi.

The bargirls obviously know this, but it does not stop them suggesting the arrangement. But as a farang married to a Thai, taking a mia noi would be at my peril.

My friends started to arrive and I could now pretend not to be taken by the cutie who continued to massage and occasionally kiss my cheek. As each of my mates arrived they were greeted and attended to in the same affectionate manner.

I was told that Soi Cowboy is much more of a happening scene these days than Patpong or, in their opinion, Nana Plaza. So a plan was forged to relocate our motley gang to Soi Cowboy for more entertainment.

A brief taxi ride and we spilled out on to the glittering Soi Cowboy and went first to a bar that seemed to cater to a Japanese fetish. The girls at this venue dress in uniforms similar to Japanese schoolgirls, but the key here is that one article of clothing is missing: the panties.

Girls dance sexily on the ground-floor stage and on a second floor, which has a glass floor. Patrons - mostly Japanese - sit below and crane their necks at the girls dancing above, getting sexy, though fleeting, glimpses of the girls' nether regions.

It is a recipe that has spelled success among Japanese tourists and the bar was packed. Finding a seat was nearly impossible and made the view less interesting. We moved on to another bar.

The next bar was more the typical go-go-style venue, with the girls dancing on a central stage naked. There were bar stools situated around the stage and booths set back from the stage - all of which seemed to be occupied. We decided the up-close-and-personal seats stage side would suffice.

Beers and whiskeys were ordered as the girls jiggled, shimmied and danced seductively and occasionally flirted with us.

Soon the lights came up slightly, the music changed from booming pop tunes to a slow and more erotic R&B blend, and the girls onstage made their exit. I assumed it was just another rotation of the girls onstage, but I was wrong.

The lights were again dimmed and stage lights above from the second floor alerted us to a half-dozen naked women, four of whom were snaking their way down the poles set around the stage. Once onstage they began a seductive dance among themselves, with the girls paired off in two couples. It was a lesbian show.

The couple immediately in front of us were stunning. One of the girls was the all-natural Thai girl, small breasts, thin, long legs and raven hair. Her partner was no less stunning, though less natural, as she had had a breast augmentation that, while not excessive, gave her a more curvaceous figure than most Thai women's. She of course had the same long, dark-brown hair and brown eyes.

The girls swayed sexily and rhythmically to the music, concentrating more on one another than anyone around them. They kissed tenderly, running their hands through one another's long, black, silken hair. Soon each of them was licking, sucking and biting her way along her "lover's" body, breasts and thighs. Playfully they feigned this foreplay a bit longer before dropping to the floor in a mutual embrace. They took turns performing oral sex on one another in myriad positions. These girls were not faking these acts: our stage side seats offered confirmation that they were in fact performing oral sex on one another.

I admit I was transfixed by this performance, and finally one of the girls noticed me staring at her slack-jawed. She giggled and whispered something to her partner, then demanded: "Ice?" She held out her hand to me and I realized that I was sitting with my drink poised halfway to my mouth, where it had stalled. I downed the whiskey in a single gulp and slammed the glass on the stage; she smiled coyly and scooped a handful of ice from the glass, took a mouthful and rubbed the rest over her lover's body while sucking on her breasts.

This exhibition of lust culminated in all four girls - two of whom I had barely noticed up to this point - coming together as four writhing bodies of lesbian loving. In all my years in Bangkok I had never seen a show performed quite so lustfully.

The lights came up and the music changed sets. I commented to my friends that we had chosen our seats wisely in this instance. The beauty with the augmented cleavage blew me a kiss as she exited the stage, toweling herself off. A new troupe of dancing girls took the stage. I needed a drink.

Meanwhile one of my friends was in a deep conversation with a bargirl who clearly understood less than 1 percent of what he was saying, but she smiled affectionately and said, "Yes, chai, chai," at key points. Another was trying to figure out what a bargirl thinks of South Asian men. The verdict: positive, if he can pay.

Another of my friends who had joined me tonight announced that he was leaving. We protested as best we could and even the random bargirl attempted to tackle him back into his seat, but he was off for the evening. A good time had by all, but he too had a wife at home and would be a good boy this night.

I assisted one of the remaining mates by speaking for moment in Thai to his chosen partner for the evening. I determined quickly that she was "just off the bus" and could speak little English. No matter, she liked my friend. "Khao naalak, khao phut Engrit faneg lao mai kao jai, choap!" she said - "He's cute, talks a lot in English I don't understand, but I like him."

I was happy to see one of the girls from the lesbian show approaching me. Was I beckoning her, or was she circling her prey?

I bought her drinks as we all began considering a move to an "after hours" nightspot, as it was getting late and the go-go bars would be closing soon. My augmented angel, whom I now knew as Ao, was keen to come along, so I struck a tentative deal with her and paid her bar fine. My friends did the same and we now had companionship for the evening.

The girls slipped away for a few moments to change from their g-strings to some street clothes. When they returned I considered for a moment that Ao's outfit was still barely appropriate - heels, an ultra-miniskirt, and a shirt that was seemingly more of a corset, but it did accentuate her cleavage nicely.

We moved to a bar off Soi Cowboy that stays open until the wee hours of the morning. We concentrated on beer and the girls turned their attention to food.

Settling in, I chatted with Ao. She seemed content with her free food and drink, and the 1,000 baht (about US$25) arrangement I offered for her company and conversation. She spoke openly and seemed to prefer English to deciphering my basic Thai - fine with me.

What unfolded was a somewhat standard tale one often hears from these girls. She was from the Northeast region known as Isaan, her family are poor rice farmers and she came to Bangkok to work and help herself and her family. Thais are very communal in caring for their family. It is not unusual for a girl who plies her trade in these bars to send most of what she earns back to the family to support them, and even an extended family that may consist of children born to their siblings, but whom the siblings cannot support.

She claimed to be 22 years old and had worked the bars for three years. She said she liked it, but I pressed her on this several times. Conceding that the work was tiring and emotionally stressful, she agreed that it was not easy, but that she would rather be doing this - for the money she earns - than staying at home and working in the rice fields. Besides, she said with a devilish grin, "It is a lot more fun."

Speaking of fun, it was time to get to an issue that, for me anyway, was quite intriguing - the lesbian show. I asked her if she liked doing the show.

"It is okay, we make more money, the girls who make [show]," she said. "And customers like [it, so] I get better customer, and can ask man pay more." The devilish smile returned. "Did you like the show?" she asked flirtatiously.

"Yes, yes I did," I admitted. What she had just said about her rates and customers begged another question, though; I asked if she was often bar-fined with her partner and asked to go with customers for a threesome.

"Yes, we do that a lot too!" she said, rolling her eyes and laughing. Luckily her laughter and the bar's music drowned out the reflexive whimper that escaped me as I conjured a mental image. I found that she was looking at me coyly again - time to get back on track.

The show was so real and the girls so taken with one another that the next set of questions was automatic: Did she like women, or at least her partner in the show?

Her partner turned out to be a very good friend who had been at the bar almost as long as she, and it was where they became close friends. It seemed the mamasans chose the prettiest girls and those who had naturally paired themselves through friendship for the possibility of working the lesbian show. I surmised this was to avoid rivalry and to build upon existing relationships.

"She is very good friend, but we [are] just friends!" she scolded me. "I like man!"

I decided to take a different angle. I asked her about Thai men. She said she was indifferent to them, but pointed out that they could not take very good care of her (by her standards, of course). I had stumbled on to something here, because as the conversation flowed she offered without being queried that she had lost her virginity to a Thai man when she was 15. It turned out he was not very good to her and was soon having sex with someone else. As I pried more and more, I found that the experiences she had had with Thai men were mediocre at best.

Switching back to women, I asked about her relationship with sisters, female friends, and girls at the bar. The last query bore fruit.

"There was girl who worked [in the] same bar as me. I went with customer one night. I like him very much. He good man and very nice to me," she said with scorn that only because I have a Thai wife alerted me to what was coming. "He come back bar one night and I go with customer already. This lady [ironic emphasis added by her] take customer me!" she said on the edge of a pouting rage.

I knew better than to launch into a line of questions about the fact that she was is fact with a customer already - loyalty is for the man, not the working girl.

"What happened to the girl?" I asked. It turned out to be the right question.

"I don't know," she said, seemingly dropping the topic with a devious glint in her eye. "She not work bar same me anymore." She said this with the type of satisfaction that can only be described as a sort of alpha-female standing among the girls of the bar.

The conversation came full circle is back to her partner: "So your partner would never go with your customer?"

"Partner" confused her for a second and I was rewarded with a name after an explanation. "No, Jin would never go with a man I go with already, and I not take customer her," she said as a matter of law.

Probing her relationship with Jin further, I asked about their friendship, and I was regaled with tales far too tame to relate here. But when something resembling the endearing emotion of love appeared in her eyes I again probed their physical relationship. Asking how it felt for her to perform those very sexual acts with her friend, I moved tentatively toward the truth I sought.

"She is good friend, and yes it is same sex. But not same because show, and we do many times. Sometimes it feels good, but it is mostly just trying to do the show and have fun," she shrugged it off.

"What about when you go with a customer together, then you are with a man and I am sure you guys continue your 'act', how does it feel sexually for you then?" I asked.

"Sex with man I like, I tell you already," she said, thinking that I might be drunk, or just not so clever. "When we go together with customer, same working, is more good two lady go with customer - man finish very quickly!" She giggled again.

Good, she was having fun again. Tempting perilously thin ice, I pried again, asking if she had ever had a sexual experience with Jin that was not with a customer, just themselves. She looked momentarily skittish. Maybe I had gone too far - she took much longer than usual to speak up again.

"One time we go with customer, he very handsome and funny, we like very much. He [was a] young man, but he drink too much!" She was pouting again. "He take off everything [and he] shower with us and go bed. We come out horng nam, khao bpai norn laeo!" - When they came out of the 'bathroom, he was asleep already.'

It was good that she was being open and had suddenly switched from broken English to Thai with me - she was talking to me on the level. It was easy to find out what happened next. "Tom arai?" I asked playfully - "So what did you do?"

They tried everything to wake him up short of setting him on fire, it seems. Apparently he had paid them a lot; they liked him and wanted to make sure that he felt he got his money's worth. Jin performed oral sex on him while Ao kissed him, playfully slapped him, and slithered up his abdomen, grinding her genitalia across his torso.

"DRINK PLEASE!" I called out abruptly.

All of this was to no avail apparently, as this poor bastard slumbered on and the girls sat back frustrated. Frustration that was mixed with lust. (For readability, Ao's account follows in English.)

"I don't know what happened, but I found myself in an embrace joking with Jin about the guy and wishing he was awake. She asked me if I was horny and I admitted I was. Jin did not say anything but kissed me and smiled. Then she started kissing my breasts too; at first I was startled, but I did not stop her - it felt good!

"Soon she was eating my pussy and it was too much, she does it in the show and I have had men do it and I cannot come, but it was only a minute or so and I came. I just lay there stunned for a few minutes and Jin held me. I felt really good.

"Jin knows I do not like to perform cunnilingus so much, so I tried to help her masturbate, but she stopped me and told me it was okay, that she just wanted me to feel good."

I found I was having a hard time not falling out of the chair at this point. She once again noticed my slack-jaw expression and showed a moment of trepidation for having said too much. I reassured her it was okay and she was her giggly self again within seconds.

Not for a moment, even a second, this evening had the fact been lost on me that I was sitting with possibly the sexiest, personally demure, and overtly sexual women I had met in my life. As the evening developed and she pecked a kiss on my cheek, or dropped an affirmative hand on my leg, the effect of 100 or so Western men who looked on in jealousy - and possibly with hatred - and as a Western man, I appreciate the company. This woman exuded sexuality, in every sense of the definition.

Liquor flowed, stories were exchanged and friends renewed their bonds. This was not just a place for the tourist, or rather the sex tourist, but it was also a place where expats, and Thais themselves, gathered for an escape from the reality that is daily life. These girls offered that escape, through fantasy and the fantastic. The boundaries were indeed usually limitless and through a mix of money, monogamy and maturity a limit was defined by the individuals themselves.

There was nothing wrong with these girls or the situation in which they found themselves. By and large - at a level I can say with a measure of experience - the girls were here voluntarily, knowing what was on offer and what was at stake when they approached the profession. I could not find one woman whom I asked who was willing to have sex without a condom; sex education has been effective in Thailand. Asked about abuse - the women would not tolerate it; by the bars or by customers.

Am I advocating prostitution? Saying that sex work is the way beautiful young women of Thailand should unequivocally accept without question? Absolutely not. But I will say without spinning the numbers that this is a tourist and domestic industry that with or without intervention is going to continue to flourish.

The feminists may cry foul, anti-prostitution campaigners may decry what I say. I understand. Maybe they have not actually met the girls spinning this trade. They may not have had the chance to balance the negative with the positive outlets and effects it can have for many of these women.

I was again reminded that I was the prey and this woman the hunter as she leaned into me and kissed me tenderly and romantically. My friends had gone and we walked slowly down the now darkened Soi Cowboy. The evening was coming to a close. Ao asked again if I would take her with me, again pouting. I kissed her again and got into the taxi. In a whiskey-induced daze I decide that it had been yet another very good night in Bangkok.

Copyright 2005, Asian Sex Gazette