February 23, 2020 By bangkok7
Never invite a gogo dancer on holiday. This lesson took me a decade to learn, because only after a decade of becoming slowly stupid was I sufficiently dumbed-down enough to attempt it.
As every one of my harem past and present knows, Seven has no heart. So they almost never step out of line and asks for things like commitment, love, or fancy date nights. But I have to admit that in my old age, as I become more sentimental, I occasionally feel a brief flutter near the region of my chest cavity where a heart would be, had I one. And in those moments, I come up with stupid ideas like buying gifts, taking a harem girl to the cinema, and once in 10 years, going on holiday with one. Specifically my youngest one—the 18 year old Mew.
The thing was, I wanted a weekend away in a nice hotel, maybe with an ocean view, so whilst browsing Pattaya on Agoda’s map I came across a nice little boutique resort north of the Dusit. It cost more than I’d ever spend on myself, but I thought maybe if I brought a girl with me, she’d be impressed and grateful, and I wouldn’t have to troll Soi 6 or LK for a bit of strange. My bedroom toy would be baked in to the weekend. So I messaged her and asked if she’d be interested and free on those days. She was ecstatic. So I reserved the room (nonrefundable) and began preparing for all the debauched things I would do to her for 48 straight hours. Then three days before check-in, she messaged to say she couldn’t go, that her grandma was ill and her mom wanted her to be with them in case she kicked over. So I went to Pattaya by myself.
The hotel was pretty OK, though I felt a bit cheated. The furniture and décor were lovely enough, but I’d booked an “ocean view” room, which cost a pretty penny, and got one overlooking the car park, and in the distance the pool, and even further on, a bit of sea. There were much better rooms closer to the beach with much nicer views. Still, I chalked it up to bad luck and went on with my holiday.
Another drawback was the distance between the beach road and the hotel’s front door—a 7 to 10-minute walk, depending on one’s level of intoxication, just to get to the roundabout. The hotel offered a shuttle service in the form of a golf cart that went every hour, and I was able to coerce the staff into making off-schedule trips simply by speaking to them Thai. But getting back to the hotel each time was a chore.
So, my original blueprint for the weekend was to strip Mew down the second we got in the room and keep her naked the whole time, banging her as often as I was physically able, leaving the hotel only once or twice for a rooftop dinner and tour of Walking Street. Finding myself alone, I balked at the prospect of trolling the 6 for tail. It didn’t stop me from trying, but I got bored after a couple of hours of bar hopping and wound up back in the room by 6 pm on my first day. The highlight was having Mexican food delivered to me in Baku while watching a group of Thai dudes change the sign at Chili Bar on the opposit side of the soi. In an attempt to pamper myself, I stopped at Foodland on the way home for an Australian red blend. The plan was to enjoy the wine with a cigar on the balcony whilst watching the sun go down. Somehow, I’d forgotten to buy a lighter, so instead of a cigar and sunset, I ended up drinking the wine in bed while playing games on my phone with Harry Potter on the TV and Morrissey crooning out of my laptop speakers.
Around midnight, I began to get restless, so I got dressed and went to Soi 15. I walked to the roundabout and flag down a baht bus. The streets were still rammed with people, the Beach Road littered with pedestrians, drunk tourists, and freelancers. I rolled up to Beavers for a gander. On first arriving, I was inundated with offers from several naked ladies. One of the many differences between Bangkok and Pattaya bars is that in Pattaya, everyone’s putting on the hard sell. The girls are gagging for short time. The bar staff are anxious to put a dancer on your lap. I suppose it’s because men in Ptown are more likely to be on the prowl. In BKK it’s quite common for regulars to hit the same bars every night with no intention of taking anyone home. And I guess when I’m in Ptown, I’m regarded as just an ordinary sex tourist. After ignoring their gentle harassment for five straight minutes, I bailed for a tour of Electric Blue and Dollhouse, staying longer in both than I’d planned to, and getting drunker than I thought I would. The girls in those bars are as crazy as they are naked, and always put on a fun show. I stumbled home around 1:30 and passed out to the sound of a couple in the next room arguing in Farsi.
Day two wasn’t much better. The highlight was a haircut at 10:00 am followed by another trip to Foodland and another bottle of red. Normally when I go to Ptown I have an afternoon session on the 6, then take a nap, and then I regroup and head to Walking Street for the night. This time I had lunch in the hotel restaurant (Caesar salad and chicken wings, both quite acceptable), then went directly back to bed, woke up around 9:00, showered and headed to Beavers for happy hour and Sapphire for a Tiger draft. All of my friends who previously worked there were gone, and I was more or less a stranger to everyone except Nom—a dancer I used to bang on The 6 but who is now too expensive and stuck up to short-time. That didn’t stop her from plopping down on my lap to pimp a drink and play with my junk between dance rotations. I bailed after one beer and swung in to Taboo. My old friend Bell, who used to dance at Electric Blue in Patpong, was there. She practically molested me, pumping me for drinks, groping around in my shorts, and biting my neck. She asked me to barfine her. “How much?” I inquired. 1,000 for the bar plus 2,000 more for her. Ha! yeah right. I was home by midnight, alone, smoking my cigar and drinking the wine on the balcony by the light of the moon.
The next morning, I was up and at the bus station before 9:00. There were no less than a thousand Indians there, all trying to get to Bangkok. I managed to snag the last two seats on the 10:00 bus, and made it back to Silom by 1:00. Instead of going home, I hopped off the BTS at Sala Daeng and swung in to Paddy’s for a few daydrinks. It was the highlight of the weekend. Since I made their music playlist, I was able to sit back, relax, and soak up the tunes along with in order of goodness, a Chouffe, a Guinness, a cider, and two Tiger pints before staggering home just after sunset, capping off the least-productive Ptown visit I’ve ever had.
Swing by on Friday for a frowback story, and between now and then keep your balls warm, your beer cold, and cheers to the fact that even a bad weekend in Pattaya is better than a good one in the USA. Peace.