At Least Try & Shake Your Money Maker

2000 > Thailand

I wanted to light a fire under their asses on Patpong Road

Sorry, this ain’t the Duck, so I didn’t have the
connections to take photos without risking losing my camera to a
mad bouncer in one of the bars.

You’ll just have to deal with a few more beach
photos, this time from Ko Pha Ngan.

No power?  Hey, I have batteries!
Candlelight computing
Better than waiting in line for the Moscow avtobus!
The 10 am island shuttle
Red at night, sailors' (and beachgoers) delight
The evening news
Beachside, with bedbugs free of charge!
Tough neighborhood
It was a Friday night in Bangkok, and I was bored.
Remembering my Dad’s saying, that only boring people are bored, I started
chatting to these two Russian women I overheard speaking Russian at the
table next to me. Irina and Sveta were on vacation and that night they had
one desire: to see the famous sex shows of Bangkok.

Lucky for me, they didn’t want to do this alone because,
as Irina said, two single women in a place like that would give the
customers the wrong idea. I agreed with them, though I didn’t tell ’em
it was because I’d see so many Russian prostitutes in Russia and China, so
off we went.

I guess in the days of Vietnam-era R&R, Patpong Road
was a street full of sin, shocking to your standard GI straight from Iowa.
Okay, it might even be shocking to a tourist straight from Iowa today, but
the ladies and I was unimpressed with the girls, the shows, and even the

First, we went to a series of strip bars, though there
wasn’t much stripping going on. Standing on the stage would be a dozen or
so girls, all in bikinis. One bar had ’em topless, though they had little
stickers over their nipples. All of the girls seemed tired, like they’d
rather be taking a nap than dancing on the stage, and a few didn’t even
attempt to sway with the music.

We’d all seen better in Moscow, and I’d even seen better
in Orlando! At least in Orlando, the women actually tried to look like
they were enjoying themselves on stage, and in Moscow, they even got
interactive with the audience. Vaguely remembering a show in Ulaan Bataar
where a dancer made a patron drink his beer as she poured it down her
body, I pushed the Russians to a second floor show, which were much more
revealing than the strip bars.

Revealing, yes, for all the girls were naked, but that
same lethargic atmosphere prevailed. While I watched a young lady
absentmindedly pull various items from her body cavities, like a string of
flowers and a streamer, the Russians got the entire staff of the bar
scratching their heads to come up with the address of a male strip bar.
Dragging me away from the next show, where a woman was smoking with her
vagina (never read anything on the warning labels about that!), we went
off in search of real men.

Well we found ’em, all right, though I’d call ’em boys
myself. There they were, a dozen young lads standing on a stage, all
wearing tightly-whites, and smiles. Spotting my friends, the guys got
excited, for the Russians were the only real women in the bar, though the
ladies didn’t realize it until I pointed out the bulge in the
waitresses’ pants.

Picking out two from the crowd, the girls took ’em over
to a table for a lap dance. The men danced even less enthusiastically than
the women, if that’s conceivable, and soon we were all laughing out on the
street. Before we could escape, and while the girls were being
entertained, several of the men shook my hand in congratulations for
having two women, though I noticed they used their left hands. Their right
hands were all busy maintaining their ‘wood’ as they watched
their friends jump around in front of the girls.

I used both of my hands to steer us to a restaurant,
where we promptly washed all of our hands and laughed at the icky feeling
we got from the bar. While we snacked on ice cream, we watched in awe as
transvestites wandered by.

With hormone induced breasts, the ‘women’ were
very feminine, though the manly voices and cheekbones gave most of ’em
away as men underneath. Still, they are quite amazing, for I’ve never seen
so many and so lady-like transvestites before. Oddly, with such
‘women’ wandering around, we figured men looking for a
‘working girl’ for the night would be hesitant to search on this
street, less he find a surprise later on when the clothes fell to the

Since none of us was searching, we took a tuk-tuk back
to Kho San road after the ice cream, having seen the sex shows of Bangkok,
and come away duly under impressed. I guess Russia, with the Hungry
Duck, Night Flight, and a general lack of pretensions about sex was
way more morally corrupting and emotionally jading than I previously
realized. No wonder I spent two and a half years freezing my ass of there!