January 27, 2019 By bangkok7
Thailand is full of gorgeous women. And also ugly women, and an entire spectrum in between. But most of the young men who come here for the sweet sweet touch of a Land of Smiles lady tend to focus on the really really hot ones. And who can blame them? If you’re a typical guy from a typical Western country, you can probably count the number of 10s you’ve dated on one hand—or less. For guys like that, the experience of coming to Thailand, where women the caliber of a 9 or 10 lavish interest and attention on them is nothing short of life-changing. And honestly, if all you’re going to do is wham-bam-thank-y’maam and take the experience home with you to brag about to your friends for the rest of your life, then it’s a great idea to bag a 10. But if you live here, and you’re going to see the girl on a regular basis, possibly banging her five or hundreds of times over the years, then a 10 is less than ideal. And here’s why.
Very very pretty girls—in any country—are a headache. Aren’t they? I mean, they usually fall into one or more of three categories: 1—they’re conceited, narcissistic, and dumb because a lifetime of being beautiful means they never had to learn anything, 2—they’re overly-insecure and have that reverse-psychology low self-esteem because of some early childhood trauma or abuse, and/or 3—they’re hot, smart, well-adjusted, and every dude on the planet is trying to bang them. None of these situations are ideal if you’re the boyfriend. One way or the other, you’re screwed.
In Thailand, 10s for the most part tend to be more down-to-earth, humble, and amiable. This is because there are different standards of beauty in Asia. Most of them, no matter how hot they are by Western standards, see flaws in themselves that we farang would never even notice. For example, most Thai girls want a bigger nose, and will go without meals to save up enough cash to get silicone bolted on in an effort to look more like a foreign girl. So they tend not to be as stuck up or entitled as hotties from home. That’s the good news. The bad news is, it’s not really a cultural taboo to cheat on your partner here. So grab a calculator and punch in this formula: Your girl’s a perfect 10. Multiply that by the dozens of guys hitting on her every day. Divide that by the complete lack of guilt she’ll feel for cheating on you. Take the inverse and times it by the ratio of STDs going around and voila! Your chances of dying of AIDS are directly proportional to the hotness of your girlfriend. And that’s the main reason why a less-pretty girl is better than a perfect 10. But it’s only the first of many. Let’s look at some more…
8’s are better in the sack. I don’t have scientific data to back up this claim. I can only point to my personal experience. I had a 10 for a few months while living in Phuket, and the sex was substandard for a couple of reasons. First, she was kind of sick of sex. She was a working girl, and got nailed probably two or three times per day. By the time she got to me, her vajay was all tuckered out. Per our agreement, she had her johns strap a condom on, and that chafed the hell out of the inside of her lady-bits. So banging me was more of a chore than anything. Second, dudes were constantly trying to steal her away. If I told you the number of times I came back from a restaurant toilet to find some random dickhead sitting in my seat, you’d spit out your beer. Needless to say, the fling didn’t last long. Conversely, all but one of my current harem are 8s. Most aren’t working girls anymore which means no high heels, bikinis, or come-hither looks, and in everyday clothes and no makeup, they’re easy for foreigners to overlook. So by the time they get in my bed, they’re sex-starved and ready to rock.
8’s stick around. Every 10 affair I’ve had in Thailand has been brief, precisely because they’re constantly bombarded with offers. And it makes sense that they’d weigh them all and pick the best one. So if my combination of attributes doesn’t measure up to someone else’s, I’m out of luck. One of my harem is a 9, and she’s constantly creating problems for me. She’ll often message to say she’s coming over on such-and-such a day, only to completely flake and not even message to let me know. My theory is, if she gets a better proposal between messaging me and darkening my door, she’ll just change course like a bird dog and leave me high and dry. There’ve actually been times when she’s sent me a photo of her on the bts, a few stops from my place, only to not show up. If her finger was an inch from my doorbell, and she got a text from someone with a better offer, she’d bail. In that relationship, she has the upper hand and she knows it. And that’s poison for a whoremonger. In order to remain happy, he has to hold all the cards. If she’s got even one ace up her skirt, it’s all going to go to hell in a handbasket.
8’s know they’re not 10’s. I see each of my girls on either a weekly or bi-weekly basis, and every one of them, without fail, ask the same series of questions the minute they walk in the door. “Am I fatter than the last time you saw me?” “Is my new hair color OK?” “Did my skin get darker?” “Did you see so-and-so and is she looking prettier?” And as long as I tell them the exact thing they don’t want to hear, I’m guaranteed to 1—keep them around because they think they’re not hot enough to find someone new, and 2—get great sex because they think they have to try harder to make up for their looks. Now, that’s not the only ingredient in the magic formula that keeps them coming back. I’m also generous, polite, safe, helpful, and kind. But the glue that definitely holds the house of cards together is not treating them too good. If you do, you tip the balance of power.
8’s actually think they’re 6’s. Going back to the first point about Thai standards of beauty being different from Western ones, if 10’s don’t realize they’re 10’s then the 8’s definitely don’t think they’re all that special. I’m always amazed at how cruel Thai girls are to themselves. Their most meticulous and harshest critic is and always will be the one staring back from the mirror. For this reason, whenever someone shows an 8 some real attention, she takes it to heart. She appreciates it more. It’s the opposite of that bored, detached attitude a 10 will give you, like she’s doing you a favor by tolerating you. I’m reminded of a girl at King’s Castle 1 who, up until recently, was only a 7. But she got off the pole for a while, lost weight, toned up, changed her hair, and when she came back, looked like a completely different person. Before, customers barely noticed her. But after her transformation, dudes clamored to buy her drinks. She went from being friendly and down-to-earth to being a stuck-up asshole in a matter of days. As a 7, she was happy to talk to Seven. She’d share a joke or even a bite of her noodles. Not anymore. Now she won’t even acknowledge Seven exists. Her transformation from nice girl to bitch was even more stunning than her physical one.
Finally, 8’s are more interesting. When I first came here, I was obsessed with dating only 10’s. As a product of the vapid, status-driven psychology of Los Angeles, and because 10’s were so hard to get when I lived there, every time I snagged a 10 in Thailand I felt like I was evening out some unseen score. But now, looking back over nine years of 8’s, 9’s, and 10’s, I’ve realized that the 8’s were all better. Better in bed, better friends, better people. And in point of fact, they’re just more interesting to be around. It reminds me of a story Scott Baio told when a reporter asked him was it was like to date Pamela Anderson. He talked about a time when he and a friend went to a nightclub and they saw a perfect 10—an incredible, flawless woman. And Scott said to his friend, “Wow! I’d give anything to be with a woman like that.” And his friend replied, “Yeah, but you know what? Somewhere in the world, there’s a guy who’s tired of her.” And it’s true. Once the novelty of her hotness wears off, once you’ve smelled her morning breath, or heard her fart, or just got used to her beauty, what’s left? Usually nothing. I’ve often found with an 8 that her flaw—whatever it is about her that makes her an 8—actually makes her more intriguing than the girl with no flaws. One of my girls has a surgical scar that she got after a motorbike accident. When I first saw it, I admit I was a little grossed out. But flash forward two years, and now I love that scar. That scar reminds me of every fun time we’ve had together. All the awesome bedroom Olympics. It has endeared me to her in a way that I never would had she no imperfection to make her distinct. And knowing how far I am from perfection, I think ultimately I feel more comfortable with an 8. If I’m honest with myself, on my best day I’m a 7, and that’s pushing it. So I’m still dating “up” with an 8. And really, what else does an aging gigolo really need?
So cheers to all the languid Lotharios out there pulling 6’s, 7’s, and 8’s. Our collective peace of mind helps balance out the universe. And if you’re one of those exhausted dudes desperately clinging to your 10 like Leo DeCaprio clutching that floating piece of The Titanic, maybe consider letting go. Make the switch to an 8. See if your quality of life doesn’t improve.
And that’s all from the red-light for this week. Check back Friday for another frowback article, and until next time, keep your balls clean, your glass full, and raise one for all the 8’s out there keeping the Earth on its axis. Peace out.