Gogo Dancer Profile: Saa

Saa is one of those rare goddesses who should’ve probably been a queen, or the leader of a cult. Instead, she became a gogo dancer. Despite a few flaws (she’s flat-chested and sports some post-baby-birth scars), she’s an absolute freight train of sexual potency. She’s fearsome in her pulchritude, and fierce in stature. She’s statuesque, sleek, streamlined, and striking. Her resting expression is sharp, like the edge of a knife. Not angry, so much as aware. It’s both off-putting and magnificent. When she smiles, the razor’s edge of her normal expression seems to break apart, and light spreads out from her like an exploding firework. And the quintessential Gemini flits and flirts between them at will.

Saa started out her gogo career at the world famous Electric Blue in Patpong. After it closed, she shuffled around a bit and finally found a new home at Black Pagoda. In between working at those gogos, she had a baby. The offspring left her with some minor post-baby scars, but they didn’t do much to dampen her hard-body hotness.

At first glance, the casual observer may wonder aloud what I see in Saa. She’s got a big nose and braces. “What’s the fuss about?” a random spectator might say. “Sure, she’s got a firm, sculpted bod, but that’s all.” My response would be, “Just wait and watch.” An aspect of beauty that I’ve mentioned in previous blogs is the rare instance when a woman is both attractive and simultaneously completely unaware that she is. Victor Hugo wrote of it in “Les Miserables.” When a girl knows she’s hot, she attains an air of haughtiness and an all-too-obvious self-awareness. And in point of fact, it makes her less attractive. But when she hasn’t a clue about it, she is as disarming as she is disarmed. As powerful as she is vulnerable. She is devoid of pretense, glorious in motion, like a deer in the forest unaware of observers. Innocence seems to flicker across her face, even if she’s not. Her heart is practically on her sleeve, even when she’s topless.

And this is true of a lot of Thai girls I meet. It doesn’t matter if they go to bed with customers or dance for the pleasure of gawkers for a living. The complete lack of self-awareness or shame might be cultural. When Adam and Eve sinned, they suddenly realized they were naked—what we in the West call “carnal knowledge.” But what if you’re Buddhist? It’s a topic for a separate blog. The result is a red-light district full of shameless vixens, and Saa is a prime example.

She’s exasperated by her job. That job, by the way, is to be sexy, which she does with zero effort. To the random customer, her chagrin might not be as obvious, but since she’s known me for years she lets her guard down around me. It seems like something of a relief that she can do that, and I’m secretly swollen with pride that she confides this side of her with me. I’ve never barfined her, and she’s never asked to come over. She’s got a very possessive, overbearing Thai boyfriend, and while it doesn’t stop her from going with short-time customers, she and I have not as of yet had occasion to jump in the sack. And to be honest, I don’t think it’ll ever happen. I’ve too many on my plate as it is, and in truth I kind of like keeping things the way they are. She’s like an unopened gift—the promise of some unrealized epiphany. I suspect her mystique if not her physique will take on a dimmer quality once I’ve etched her initial on my bedpost. It’s a page better left unturned.


So I will continue to visit her regularly, to bounce her on my knee, run my fingers over her sixpack, and gently fondle her naughty bits while sipping a Singha, and not try to push things further than that. Though if she ever does take the initiative and ask to come over, I of course won’t say no. Last night I went to Pagoda to take a few pics of Saa. She was leaning against the big window that looks down onto Soi 2. I motioned her over. She lifted herself from the glass with the shrug of one shoulder and sauntered to me like a gazelle in stilettos. I led her by the hand out the back. She sat down and spread her knees. I knelt before her like a loyal subject, snapped the pics, helped her up, and patted her ass. I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a little bit of love in that ass pat.

Swing by on Friday for a frowback, and between now and then keep your balls warm, your beer cold, and maybe treat yourself to an eyeful of Saa. She’s in Black Pagoda nearly 7 days a week.