December 14, 2018 By bangkok7
Hey folks, it’s Frowback Friday again. This blog was previously posted to Bangkoknites and today it’s being given a new home. If you haven’t read it before, Seven hopes you enjoy it:
“I know what you’re thinking. A bar girl is someone you cheat with, not on. But that’s because you’re not me. Seven only dates bar girls, so when it comes to being unfaithful, if that’s the right word, cheating on my bar girlfriends is exactly what I do.
Bar girls are strange, fascinating creatures. At once innocent and corrupted, vulnerable and strong, delicate and vulgar, sweet and deadly. And they can be fiercely jealous, despite the occupational hypocrisy (the occupocrisy) of being more or less accessible to the public at large. I’ve written before about the Thai double standard—that the rules which apply to foreigners do not necessarily apply to any Thai watching you like a hawk to ensure you follow them. This can also be said about bar girls (and gogo dancers, and freelancers) who have taken a liking to you and don’t want anyone else—especially not anyone else where they work—to get their greedy hands on you or your money.
Not all are this way. I’ve had and currently have playmates who aren’t fussed about sharing. In fact sometimes they come over for a play date together. But that’s rare. Still others are happy with a don’t-ask-don’t-tell relationship where everything’s left up to their imagination and they try not to imagine anything. But most of the time, the situation is this: you take up with a girl at a particular place, and that girl stakes a claim on you, and no one else at the bar is allowed to have at you until at least a year after you’ve stopped banging her. And if her friends change bars, it’s possible they’ll spread the word at the new place that you’ve already got some other girl’s claws in you and are off limits. Most of the time, through some kind of “honor among bar girls” code, this works, and you’re cast off like a leper. This happens to me on a regular basis. I even had one girl go so far as to make it known in the entire town that I was not to be touched. Granted, that town was Ao Nang so it was easy to do given its size. But it’s a testament to the power of a powerful Thai working girl. Some have a lot of sway. That means that the times when we fought, and she went off to bang a random customer just to spite me, hard as I tried to do the same, all I got was “Not go with you….you boyfriend Ta. She tell me already.” F*cking frustrating, I tell you what. Thank Buddha I live in Bangkok now. It’s a big city, and I haven’t found a gogo girl yet who has a grip on all of it. As a matter of fact, no one as far as I can tell can even survey all of Patpong, my home away from home away from America. Even after many years, I can still slip from bar to bar, unmarked for the most part, and have honeys in multiple locations, all blissfully unaware of each other.
So cheating on your bar girl is an actual thing, and I should know because I do it a lot. And here’s how:
Success or failure depends on what you do and the choices you make right at the start. I typically make myself a familiar sight at a bar days or even weeks before taking a run at somebody. And I choose that somebody based on a few key factors. First, she should be a diamond in the rough, meaning fairly new to the scene and not quite aware of her own attractiveness yet (like Cosette in Les Miserables) and so generally overlooked by the average punter. Second, she should speak very little English. This has the doubly-beneficial indication of the girl’s lack of experience as well as a vajay that still has that new car smell. Finally—and above all—she should be reluctant to go with or even speak to farang. Ideally, she’s already told her friends that she won’t even go home with a customer, and is only there for the regular dancer’s wage. The best thing a girl can tell me in our first conversation is “I not go with customer.” Perfect.
I’m not going to tell you the process by which I change her mind. I don’t give away trade secrets. Suffice to say that, in time, she does. She becomes a regular at Club Seven (I named my apartment Club Seven, because there’s almost always a party going on). But she doesn’t want her friends to know she sees me so she makes me swear not to tell anyone. And so of course, I swear. In the meantime, I find another girl at the same bar who also “never goes with customers” and get her on the hook as well. She also makes me promise not to tell anyone that she comes over. So I go to the bar, sit with one on either side, buy both a drink, grope them both, get kisses from both, and when I leave one turns to the other and asks, “Do you go with him?” to which the other replies “No, do you?” to which she responds “Of course not.” And all is right with the world. The most I’ve been able to wrangle from a single bar using this method is four. Four is too many, by the way.
Then you have to work out the days of the week and/or times on the weekend in which to have them over…getting them in and out without being seen, cleaning up before and after, maintaining stamina. It takes a bit of work, but it beats monogamy or being alone. And if you like excitement, it’s kind of fun. Once you’re found out, though, it all falls apart. You go from glory to garbage in a day’s time, and have the mark of Cain at that bar from that point onward. But if you’re turned on by the espionage aspect of whoring—the….whorespionage—it’s worth the risk. You feel like a 10th rate James Bond, and let’s be honest—that’s the closest I’m gonna get to being James Bond.”
Check back Sunday for the weekly.