I’m Dreaming of a Thai Christmas

Season’s greetings, folks. It’s that time of year again. Specifically, that bittersweet time when expats in Thailand weigh the pros and cons of spending Christmas in The Land of Smiles. And it is bittersweet. The hotel buffets don’t get mom’s stuffing right. The malls consider Elvis Presley’s “Blue Christmas” a traditional carol, playing it over their speakers alongside “Silent Night.” The gogo dancers swap their Halloween cosplay uniforms for elf hats and red lingerie. OK, that last one is more sweet than bitter. But it sure ain’t like the Christmas I used to know.

This year, just like every year, I got to missing my mom, who’s back in California, and glanced once or twice at last-minute airfares just to see what it would set me back to surprise her with a quick visit. And just like last year, it wasn’t worth the cost. So once again, it’s gonna be a Thai Christmas, rife with nostalgia and long sighs. I’ll miss sipping wine around the fireplace, and the tree, and mom’s excellent cooking. And the time spent with her. But that’s about it. I frigging hate the cold weather. Los Angeles is, for the most part, a shit hole. I don’t enjoy seeing aunts, uncles, cousins and their mewling offspring. Yuck. Forget it. Mom will have to wait till spring when I have more time off, and I’ll have to content myself by bouncing a gogo dancer on my lap on Christmas Eve.

Unlike last year, when I bought gifts for mom in Bangkok and dropped 3,000 baht just on shipping, this year I bought everything online. It’s not as personal, but damn if it isn’t cheaper and more convenient. She’s getting a spa basket, a certificate for dinner at a classy restaurant in L.A., and a few eBay necklaces express from Hong Kong. That will to some extent assuage my guilt for not being there. She insisted on sending me some money, which I promised to use to buy a new sofa but in actuality will probably squander in the gogos.

All in all, I prefer a Thai Christmas. The high season weather (clear skies, cooler temps, breezy afternoons) has kicked in (these last few days notwithstanding), the “Naughty Ms. Claus” gogo outfits are on full display in the red light districts, and every pub and hotel has a free-flow booze offering. Now the question is whether to spend Christmas in Bangkok or Pattaya. It’s a quandary. The big city has all the ritzy rooftop bars and fancy shmancy restaurants. It’s nice to have those options. But who am I kidding? I never go hi-so. I always end up in the same place—Patpong. So the real question is, do I hop on a bus for a change of scenery, swap the Pong for Walking Street, and get a little sea air in these wheezy lungs? My harem sure wouldn’t be pleased. They all expect something extra because it’s “Kissmat!” One thing the Thais get right about the season—“you give me gif!” Bow already sent me a photo of the gold bracelet she wants.  Mew is content to have holiday sex. And that is a gift, given how old and out of shap I am. In fact, I’d rather skip the extra coitus and give her a gold bracelet instead. Ploy wants a big stuffed Doremon, which I’ll get her out of sympathy. She caught her boyfriend cheating and had to move out of their place the same day. She wandered the street for hours with all her belongings in tow before a friend took her in. So in addition to the Doremon I’ll spring for her first month’s rent at her new place. Never mind the ironic hypocrisy (irocrisy? hypocrony?) of getting help from the guy she was cheating on her boyfriend with. But it is shaping up to be an expensive Christmas for Seven this year. That’s actually an incentive to get outa Dodge. I know barely anyone in Pattaya and can move from bar to bar with the anonymity of an average tourist. But then, that’s also the downside. You want to be around people you know during Christmas, right? For me, that’s a bevy of barely-dressed fake-titted wundersluts in high heels. I can’t decide what move to make here. On the one hand, I haven’t cleaned my apartment in weeks and a nice fresh hotel room—especially with a sea view—would be a treat. On the other hand, it’s so convenient to have everything I need at arm’s length.

Actually, I just had a thought. Maybe the best Christmas present I can get for myself this year is a new sofa that I break in with one of my favorite girls, then lounge on my balcony with a Cuban cigar and a bottle of Shiraz, then head out to Nana or Cowboy. Technically, it would be a vacation from Patpong, and if I get bored, The Pong’s a 10 minute motorbike ride away. Now that’s a plan I can get behind. Uh oh, I feel the Christmas spirit coming on…..


I’m dreaming, of a Thai Christmas,

Just like the ones I’ve come to know.

Where the girls’ butts wiggle, and fake tits jiggle

On stage, in a Patpong go-gooooooo.

I’m dreaming, of a Thai Christmas,

Just like the ones I’ve come to know.

Where the tourists wimper, and bar girls simper,

And I’ve got lots of cash to blowwww.

I’m dreaming, of a Thai Christmas

With every red-light blog I write.

May your days get better at night,

And may all your girls’ vajays be tight.


I’m dreaming, of a Thai Christmas,

Just like the one I had last year,

Where the trees have mangos, and every plan goes

Tits up, after the second beer.

I’m dreaming, of a Thai Christmas,

With every gogo that I try.

May your girls be sexy and spry,

And may all your Christmases be Thai!


Ahh, now I’m in a better mood. The truth is, Thailand is my Christmas gift to myself. And it’s a gift that keeps giving every day, year after year. So wherever you are this holiday season, whether it’s back home or here in the hot Thai sun and even hotter red-light scene, this is Seven wishing you all the best. Keep your silver bells clean, your yule log burning, and cheers to making it through 2018 above ground in the greatest country in the world—Thailand. Merry Christmas!