Big Mango Bar
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A Bangkok Trip Report Part 2 by The Lurcher

Posted by The Lurcher | Blog, Reader Submissions | Posted on February 24th, 2010

(The Bangkok Trip Report series by The Lurcher  is available here)

Stalking Lite

I entered the bar and ordered a drink. It has been my habit for some time, when in certain kinds of bars, to always orders spirits and mixers separately to prevent dilution and/or short measures.

Once I had ordered the double Sangsom and checked it I followed it up with an order of Red Bull, ice and lime in a tall glass*. I took a half valium to offset the taurine and caffeine jag and to a certain extent a vague tension caused by either jet lag or maybe the prospect of meeting Miss Au again.  There was a nagging worry at the back of my mind that ‘I had done something wrong’ the last time I had seen her a few weeks ago.  But I dismissed this as just nasally ingested paranoia and then my mind wandered as to why I bother hang out at the Hilary bars. The bars are not particularly full of ‘stunnaz.’ And even Miss Au, though very beautiful, had seen better days. I guess my patronage of the Hilary Bars started with a game I play called ‘Follow that Arse’.

I have played this game, which is basically a class C form of stalking, around Pattaya Beach Rd, Walking St and of course all around Soi 4 and Soi Cowboy.

From a good observation point such as Lucky Lukes, Big Dogs or The Golden Bar, I look out for a beautiful comely girl based upon well filled jeans, a short skirt, a pretty face, an exotic mien or any kind of sexy vibe – then I follow her where ever she goes in the Plaza: usually a Go Go bar.

Once, a girl I followed in Walking Street stopped about eight times before she arrived at her bar, a Go Go in Soi Diamond. It was pretty agonising actually.  She bought fruit, Som Tam, nail varnish, went into a 7-11 then stopped for a chat, next she idled to look at a clothes stall, then bought some cheap jewelry, stopped but didn’t buy a purse, tried but didn’t buy some perfume, and so on. I felt I knew her already when I called her off the stage and bought her a drink.  One can reverse the process by following a girl you have met before in a Go Go bar and then greet her in the street with classic opening line: ‘Sorry I didn’t recognise you with your clothes on!’

So a couple of years ago, in a Seven 11 on Soi 4  I saw this small girl in a short pleated skirt, white Fred Perry top nuzzling tiny pert breasts, trim muscled legs with a slim ankles, white socks and sporty shoes.  I had just arrived from the sandpit where the only females you see are dressed in Al Qaeda cloaks, full face masks and other assorted batman outfits so was absolutely entranced by this tiny vision of pulchritude. Discreetly following her, and you do need to be discreet, because these girls really have excellent weirdo radar, she took me to a Hilary bar. I like a game of pool. It gives me something to think about when I am talking to girls.  The tables are well maintained and the cues true. I find the music less offensive at Hilary 3 even if only because it is not too loud.  The food that is delivered to both the bars seems pretty good. And call me mad but I just like watching pretty girls bending over pool tables.

The whole point of ‘Follow that Arse’ is that it introduces and element of serendipity into my perambulations: a kind of Luke Rhinhart approach with the girl functioning as the dice. You never know where you are going to end up but you are guaranteed there will be at least one beautiful girl there: wherever it is. I might rename the game ‘Stalking Lite’.

Sitting nursing my second drink my tension started to develop into panic and I started to worry a bit until I remembered that I do suffer from panic attacks and free floating anxiety so it is normal and anyway I had a hospital appointment booked tomorrow to address the problem and furthermore I was going to take a relaxing break in a non combat zone called Mai in the north.

Then I cringed because suddenly it all came back to me: the night, weeks ago when I had barfined Miss Au and ended up dumping her outside the entrance to Nana plaza and more or less telling her to fuckoff for no rational reason that I could remember.

When I had first met Miss Au a few weeks ago on my last holiday we had played pool and she had told me a few things about herself which included the following information; she didn’t like pool, couldn’t play pool, was new to Soi 4, was trying her hand at being a bar girl for the first time, she was, or had been wealthy or had had a wealthy husband, she had two beauty salons but business was not good, none of her friends or family had any idea she was doing any kind of work in Soi 4 and she herself had never been out or walked around Soi 4, she was trying to learn English, she waxed her own pussy, was happily divorced  and that night was extremely bored. She jumped at the chance being barfined and having an escorted tour of the area, the chance to see a Go Go bar and the opportunity to see a lady boy bar/show. She was really excited and enthusiastic so I paid the 500 baht bar fine.

For the last few years I had been visiting Pattaya as I had become disenchanted with Bangkok and even when I had been in Bangkok had been going to Soi Cowboy mainly, so taking her around Soi 4 was an opportunity to revisit and check out Nana Plaza and a reason to go to a Lady Boy bar.

Now a word about Lady Boy bars. Bar girls love them. If, and I say if, you want to make your girl happy take her to a Lady Boy show.  It was one of my pals, a hod carrier from Stockton, a rough cove actually; who explained why taking your girl to a Lady boy show was a fun thing to do. There are three types of Lady bar/show.

One is the enormous extravagant theatrical shows like Alcazar and Tiffany. The latter two are in Pattaya. I take my girls to these. They are a lot of fun with glamorous costumes, sparkling jewelry, lots of dancing and singing but they are a bit impersonal.

The second type is the walk on wank shows you get around Soi 2 Pattaya Boyztown which are just quite bizarre. My girls love these as well. First thing you notice is these guys are not really pure Lady Boys but Bar Boys, for hire for gay men or heterosexual women. Though there are usually raunchy and witty drag shows included in the evening entertainment. The ‘boys,’ who wear numbers like bar girls also do all the show girl tricks such as opening bottles with their arse, blowing darts out of their arses and exploding balloons, blowing trumpets: all pretty raw and enough to make even the most hardened bar girl blush. But perhaps the most freakish part of the show is around ten o’clock when the lads, to the sound of dramatic music such as The Ride of the Valkyries or The theme tune from 2001 A Space Odyssey, egged on by raucous comments from the gaylord squawking compere swan around the stage wanking and walking, intermittently stopping briefly, thank god, to demonstrate and offer their wares. Quite extraordinary actually and belies the myth of the small Asian dick syndrome. A baby’s arm with its hand clutching a sheep’s heart, a tube of Ajax with a skinned rabbit’s head balancing on top both come to mind. Also noticeable are the Japanese and farang girl punters, in evidence, usually in the front row seats.

Mercifully there is the third kind of Lady Boy bar/show such as Obsession in Nana Plaza. Here the ‘girls’ are dressed beautifully and flaunt themselves on a rotating carousel demonstrating their make up skills, beauty and femininity.

So it was off to Obsession we went but Ms Au was agog from the moment we stepped into the lion’s den of The Plaza. As she took it all in she held my hand tightly pulling me close for protection.  She was speechless by the time we had sat down in Obsession. She is very beautiful, very well made up, dresses stylishly and elegantly so she and the ‘girls’ looked at each other in mutual interest. I eyed up the ‘talent’ wondering if I could ever bring my self to do it with a Lady Boy. It is tempting sometimes: as a one off experience/experiment maybe but the idea does not really engage me. Miss Au chatted to one of the ‘girls’ who had sat along side us. I bought her a drink and we asked her the usual stuff including how many of the girls had had the full op. Our hostess indicated, to my surprise, that none of the girls had had their ‘meat n two veg’ removed. I asked Miss Au if she would like to bar fine any of the girls on the stage. I assured her it was my treat and I would pay all expenses. The delicate Miss Au was as horrified at the suggestion as I had expected. We left after about half an hour.

I had given some thought and consideration to which Go Go bar to take Miss Au to and had decided on the Hollywood Carousel. The reason being is that they have a variety of acts and shows including girls opening bottles with their twats, firing darts at balloons with their vaginal muscles, lesbian sex shows and some theatrical performances and plenty of nudity. I was determined to be a caring thoughtful host. However, at the back of my mind was a vague idea that taking Miss Au to the Hollywood Carousel was ‘a wrong thing to do, a bad idea’.

I forgot the nagging doubt, forged ahead introducing Miss Au to the dubious delights of the stairs that lead up to the second and third floor. I took her all around the second floor and thought of all the times over the years I had sat outside many of the bars and of the time, when younger and fitter and aided by over the counter pep/slimming pills I had tried to have a drink in every bar in the plaza. This was when there was a car park in the middle and no bars there so it seemed feasible just drinking round the downstairs perimeter bars then moving upwards. I did not succeed and never tried it again. I do however get the odd ache and pain from Mysterious Boozing Injuries received that night. Can’t remember what happened but like after a good weekend in Amsterdam, I ached all over. MBIs, DRIs, MBRIs etc are all to be expected and I have sustained them all over the world including in, Portugal, Iran, Saudi Arabia, Burma, Kuwait and North Africa.

We arrived at Hollywood and I fussed around until we had a good seat and table with a good view of the main stage. My favourite seat happens to be where the manageress sits counting receipts so I always have to move her and her staff off ‘my’ table but at least it is not foreign drunk guys that I have to move on.

I explained to Miss Au that the carousel at the back was for the less beautiful girls and the front carousel was for performances and the more beautiful girls. Of course it goes without saying that all our communications had been difficult as her lack of English combined with her charming stutter matched with my distinctly low level of Thai language skills meant we really had to take each other on trust. I had to query, to myself, if either of us actually had any idea of what we were both talking about, or wanted, or what our intentions were. I had been becoming increasingly anxious about Miss Au.  I mentioned earlier about Bar Girls having good radar for weirdoes: well so do fucking I. And I was beginning to get a regular blip on my physic radar screen indicating to me madness approaching at two o’clock. I was drinking beer. She was drinking beer and whisky and coke. I got the impression that she was not impressed by the shows; the lesbian love making, the banana show, the flying darts and the nude shaven labia very much in evidence as always. I began to feel a bit faint so retired to the bathroom for some nasal imbibement. When I got back to my table I had a shock. It was Dao! Tiny waif like elfin Dao! My regular bar girl from the Hollywood! A front carousel dancer and all round good bad girl. I introduced them to each other and explained a bit lamely to Dao that Miss Au had never been to a Go Go bar before. Dao was in her tiny T back Bikini oozing sexuality, Miss Au in contrast was modestly fully dressed in a Hermes scarf and knee length Kashmir wool clinging dress. They faced each as two dynamic opposites.

I had intuited it was a ‘bad idea’ to bring Ms Au here but had forgotten the reason why. Dao was cheerfully polite and left us to it but I suspected all was not well with Miss Au and to be honest I had a bit of a headache. I don’t know why:  maybe stress. Also in my mind was the corrosive idea that Miss Au was not going to put out tonight. That bedding her would not be straight forward. That it might be like dating a western woman having to ‘time a pounce’ and locking of lips. That I would not just be able tell her that it was now time to go back to the hotel with me. That there was going to be an awkward situation. That she was not going to be professional. That I was going to be rejected! Yes: That was it. The bitch was going to reject me. I sat there drinking and thinking and thinking and drinking. I am pretty sure some of Miss Au’s comments were a bit pointed, a bit sarcastic, not very friendly so I paid the bill and she seemed relieved to leave. She did not seem happy but I had a plan to resolve the situation.

It was after 2am by now. We left the Plaza pushing onto Soi 4 through the freak show of topless lady boys, touting tuk tuk drivers, grease guzzling farangs. I told her I was going back to my hotel by myself alone. ‘What about me?’ she wailed. I told her she could go back to the bar or go home. I pushed a hundred Baht note into her hand but she said she wanted more. I told her to get a taxi home. I left the scene with alacrity. That was my plan to resolve the situation. Dump her and run away without further adieu because all my intuition told me there was going to be trouble. That she was going to be trouble. That any further dalliance with her was somehow going to be ‘a bad thing’. I was not sure how or why but I knew I had done the right thing by dumping her. Well let’s face it a bar girl does not have to sleep with a punter so the reverse holds true.  A punter does not have to sleep with a bar girl. When I checked she had gone I returned to the Golden Bar after hours bar on the street where a chair was pulled up for me and I sat drinking for a couple of hours. It was 3am and I realised that this was Wednesday and my second to last night in Thailand before I returned to the great sandpit. I decided to visit The Hilary Bar on the morrow, on Thursday night to apologise to Miss Au. Maybe my action had been a bit intemperate. I did visit the bar the night before I left but she was not there. That was then…

This is now. I was woken from my reveries by the ‘Mister, you think too much! One more dlink?’. I looked round. Now here I was back in the Hilary after six weeks and no sign of Miss Au but it was probably for the best. I left and decided to go and eat some pork and have a walkabout.

On my way to the Plaza I called in at the other Hilary Bar on the other side of the road. I don’t like the atmosphere so much at Hilary 2. It tends to be a bit more raucous and there is the feel of a slice of Pattaya about it: an unpleasant slice. You know the types of guys, with fucking murder in their eyes. There are some rough exotic girls on the pool tables here. Hard faced but exotic and I guess by the meanness of their demeanour and general insouciance they have sponsors and a ‘habit’. Upstairs there is a quieter pool room but the last time I had played pool there with a girl from Morning Night there had been a policeman’s banquet and birthday party. Sorry I can’t stand the Bill. They completely unnerved me. Partying along side the burly cops was a gaggle of mamasans looking like a cross between English footballers’ wives and the witches of Macbeth. Clicking of acrylic fingernails-rattle of chunky jewelry-utterly self contained and in there own world – people beware enter who dare: not me.

The reason I was checking out Hilary 2 tonight, the first night of my holiday was because it was to be the venue for Sek Loso tomorrow and I had tickets.

Although I say I do not really like Hilary 2 something really pleasant and odd had happened on a previous visit. An attractive girl had embraced and snogged me. I was watching a band and they were quite good actually. The band was playing some reggae and some old rock n roll like Johnny B Goode. I rarely dance and in general regard men who do dance as cunts, twats or gays. So on this occasion I was a bit of a cunt and a twat. I rarely kiss or do tongues any more but it couldn’t be helped with this girl. In most countries she would have been considered beautiful but she was a tad Junoesque for my taste as I prefer skinny girls. But she was happy, sexy, giving and having fun. Nice skin. Bit tits. Available. She rubbed her self all over me. I guess she was a freelancer. I guess she might have a thing for older guys. I guess she was on E or another sexual stimulant. I didn’t know or care it was just a nice touch to the evening. She gave me her number without me asking. But that was then and now is now: happy memories. I left the bar after imbibing a large Sangsom and soda with ice and lime. It was still quite early so decided to have a drink at Lucky Lukes as a first stage in ‘Follow that Arse’.

I used to like Lucky Lukes more in the old days when it had a large sign board on the wall dedicated to the respect for Arabs and muslims. The sign more or less baldly stated that the bar respected Arabs and muslims so much that it would refuse to serve them.  Happy days, before the Salman Rushdie murder threat and before the 9/11 massacre.

Suddenly three possibly arses walked by but by the time I had collected my wits they had disappeared.  I speculated, just speculated that one was going to the Rainbow bar. But I had no idea really. It was too late too stalk so I decided to visit the Rainbow bars. Actually I do not really like the these bars but I still go there because I am open minded about watching scantily clad pretty girls with arses like 12 year old boys and pneumatic tits and lairy hair styles. Actually, this chain of Go Go bars irritates me because that Aspergers part of me cannot organise them properly. I mean which is which? How many are there? What is the difference between them? Where are they exactly? Black costume or white costumes? And do any of them have friendly girls? In my experience the answer to that last question is no. If you are one of those guys that does not like being bothered by the attentions of bar girls and I am not one of them, then go to the Rainbow bars. You will be ignored. I suddenly decided on a plan of action. First the Erotica Go Go Bar on the corner, second floor I think – a girl with big tits and a short time room. I fancied a tit and oily wank. Then on to the Mandarin Go Go – the one upstairs not downstairs, to ogle some young pussy – then any chosen random Go Go bar and then maybe onto Hollywood Carousel to see Dao.

There that was it: after an hour of aimlessness and a failed game of ‘Follow that Arse’, I had a plot to follow. I had a plan. And if the worst came to the worst I could start another round of ‘Follow that Arse’ any time I felt like it. I could do what I want! I was on holiday! The world was my lobster! I was a free agent!  I was in Bangkok, the greatest city in the world! Fuck Paris, New York, London. A surge of energy and enthusiasm flooded over me and I developed a strong erection. I sallied forth into to the night, launched my self purposefully across the car park and strode resolutely up the stairs on my way for a tit wank and any other hanky panky I could devise.

To be continued…