Hell's Vestibule

[Pattaya, 1/21/23]

Pattaya must be the world’s densest concentration of bald heads, huge beer bellies, fake smiles, bullshitty conversations in the saddest English, Viagra and Cialis consumption, and horny wearers of adult diapers.

“Before we get it on, baby, let me change my diaper, or maybe you can do it for me? At least I still have my wits! If I laugh too hard, I’ll spit my denture clear across the room. You didn’t understand one word I said, did you? That’s alright, we’ll help each other grow.”

At night on Beach Road, packs of Indians haggle with Thai or “Russian” whores who stand in the dark beneath palm trees.

Prostitute, “800 baht for boom boom, no share.”

Indian, “No share.”

Prostitute, “What are name hotel?”

Strolling down bombastic Walking Street, old Chinese and white men hold hands with unsmiling whores less than half their age.

As I’ve said, Walking Street is but a tiny sliver of Pattaya, so it’s pretty easy to escape from it, into a normal Thailand of mom and pops, noodle or rice restaurants, and well-behaved children in neat school uniforms. I had to hover around Walking Street and Beach Road, however, to observe this sordid Thailand.

One evening, I took a long walk away from that mess, in search of some Tex-Mex. I couldn’t wait for some serious hard shell tacos, with its cumin, queso and cilantro, but alas, they turned out to be super lame. There was actually too much beef, and not much else to break up that meaty tedium. Worse, my refried beans were barely thicker than mushy peas, and served with a tiny plastic spoon. What a drippy joke!

Hearing American English at the bar, I shifted there after dinner, hoping for a conversation, but the 71-year-old guy from Green Bay was too preoccupied with the 27-year-old waitress. Thin, short and dark, she looked like a teenager, so I was shocked to hear she had a 13-year-old daughter.

When she showed me a photo of this girl, I exclaimed, "That's your sister! Your older sister!"

She didn't find that too amusing. In any case, neither the waitress nor the Wisconsin old fart talked to me much.

To him, she shared that her daughter wanted to have a girlfriend. “I said yes, you can have girlfriend, but no fucking!”

Then, “She is like a tomboy, always a tomboy, but now she think she's a lesbian.”

The waitress’ English was weird enough yet rapid, with fuck liberally used, as in “I told him fuck off!”

Sipping martinis, old fart was buying the waitress beer, so she petitioned, “You buy me one more beer?”

When he hesitated, she pulled out some bahts and acted angry, “OK, OK, I buy beer myself!” He relented.

Old fart had been coming to Thailand for 20 years.

Knocked up at 13, she had a baby at 14, yet she has learned enough English to snag a job in a city restaurant serving mainly foreigners. Though tips aren’t required here, she’s more likely to get them from Westerners on vacation. Her skills at humoring old farts supplement her income.

Destitution is the key driver of prostitution. In my “No Pattaya Playa,” I suggested many more white sex workers will show up in Asia, with “SEXY AMERICAN GIRLS!” and “AMERICAN SEXY SHOW!” advertised in Pattaya within five years.

Benedict Tiberius Cato responds, “Although I think it’s way past time for American girls to be working in special bars in exotic overseas locations, I am having difficulty imagining who would want them.”

Why wouldn’t they? The world has been bombarded with boobilicious American bombshells for nearly a century, though we’ve come a long way from Jayne Mansfield, Marilyn Monroe and Elizabeth Taylor. Still, in some Third World shack, a malnourished shoeshine boy is masturbating to photos of Miley Cyrus. Tomorrow, he’ll jerk off to Lia Thomas.

There’s a 2019 song, “Pattaya Lover,” by TaitosmitH. In the video, we see a Thai dork being mesmerized by a petite white woman. To seduce her, he buys a Thai-English dictionary, only to blurt, “You are so delicious.” Next, he changes his outfit to look cooler. In the most pathetic scene, seven Thai men are chasing after this untouchable white goddess. Finally, our hero follows her onto Walking Street, where she disappears, so she’s a bar girl, one of the many “Russians” selling white flesh in Thailand.

Though costing three times more than Thai girls, whites can certainly be had, but he wants love, apparently. Many old white men who hook up with Thai whores are no less innocent.

It’s telling that the white actress in the video, Reira Burger, is dark haired and has a slender, Oriental body. In South Korea, there are countless images of Audrey Hepburn in public. Some are huge. Slim and demure, she is somewhat Oriental, but with white skin and, most importantly, large, round eyes, so she’s become the most idolized female in South Korea.

[Gumi, South Korea, 5/19/20]

American women who’ll be beached in Pattaya won’t likely resemble Burger or Hepburn, however.

Al DuClur, “Is there anywhere really more depressing than average American life in so many places? Increasingly most American men are no longer wanted by the 80 percent of women who compete for the top 20% of men. And increasingly, the average American woman is so fat and entitled men don’t want her. Plus community and friendships are deteriorating in the US. Bowling Alone is a real thing and it is getting worse.”

Plus sized yet spoiled, American women only want alpha males, so there’s no way they would offer their fat assets for chump change to some Arab, Chinese or five Indians anyway!

Without Big Macs in your belly, you’ll change your mind, so some will end up on Busan’s Texas Street or Pattaya’s Walking Street, and I’m betting they’ll have many takers, for the mythical American brand will outlast that lethal and spirit sapping collection of strip malls and ghettos.

I’m typing this in Pattaya Beer Garden, by the way, because Lassi’s Place wasn’t open when I swung by earlier, three times. Although a curtain away from hell, the panorama of sea, sand, boats and paragliders is still spectacular.

Mary Hopkins has just come on the TVs to sing “Those Were the Days,” believe it or not. In case you think I’m making it up, I have the photo to prove it. Overlooking my shoulder, God (or gods, if you prefer) had such a good laugh, he said, “Check this out.”

Once upon a time there was a tavern
Where we used to raise a glass or two
Remember how we laughed away the hours
Think of all the great things we would do?

Those were the days, my friend
We thought they’d never end
We’d sing and dance forever and a day
We’d live the life we choose
We’d fight and never lose

What a sweet face she had, but back then, singers could just sing, and not be a cocktease. Those were the days.

Now, we’re getting our asses kicked without much fighting back, but cheer up, American chicks, for you certainly have something to sell. In fact, I’ll start the ball rolling by opening American themed bars, right here in Pattaya.

Attention, investors! To make reams within weeks, PayPal me all your savings, for you, too, can own stocks in Valley Girl Gashes, Trailer Park’s Double Wide Tushies, Screaming Antifa Woke Warriors and Ghetto Mammas’ Infinite Funk. Stereotypes sell. Until genuine American ladies show up, I’ll recruit from the “Russian” ones already here.

Olga from Norilsk can be rebranded as Heather from Broken Bow, Nebraska. You think some weak-bladdered slob from Chongqing or Mysuru would know the difference?

I finish this article back in Bangkok, at Mam’s House, at the converted Sisco sewing machine, my usual writing station.

After nodding off on the bus, I opened my eyes to Bangkok’s office buildings, condos, tenements, shopping malls and rivers of people, being busy and productive. Normality is sweet.

American resident of Thailand, “Biff,” comments on Pattaya, “Top attractions (for me anyway) is catching a ferry over to Koh Lan for the day—some of the freshest seafood ever. Second would be some fine dining in the city—lots of international restaurants. Third would be going home where I am now.”

Hell’s vestibule, all you can do is leave it.

[Pattaya, 1/21/23]

[Pattaya, 1/22/23]