The clock in front of me reads “5:05 PM”, but my body thinks otherwise – “8:05 AM” is what I feel. To complicate matters even more, my brain and heart fervently wish the latter were true. I may just have jet lag of the soul until I return to Thailand!
My mind is also having difficulty wrapping around the fact that it was over three weeks ago that I set out on the adventure that would change my life forever…

The first leg of my flight was scheduled to depart Las Vegas at 7:00 am, so I packed until 4:00 am and called for a cab. On the drive to the airport the cabby and I talked about our mutual addiction to bad women and the one who ripped him off yet still owned a place in his heart. At the airport I wished him luck and entered the lengthy cue at the America West counter waiting on the lone night agent.

It wasn’t long before the full compliment of AW employees filed in and spread out to their posts like soldiers taking up positions on the front line. A sentry at the front of the line directed traffic, and it wasn’t long before I found myself at the counter with a very pleasant lady checking me in for the entire AW/Northwest connection to Bangkok. Years of business travel create habits that are impossible to break, so I’d managed to pack everything in one carry-on. The laundry service at the hotel would be getting a workout.

Checked in and re-ticketed, I breezed through security and found myself at the AW gate 1 hour and 45 minutes early. As soon as my big ass hit the plastic chair in the waiting area, the exhaustion set in. I still had another 5 hours or so before I’d be safely on NW flight 1, so I popped a couple No-Doze and fought the siren call of blessed sleep – and barely won.

10 minutes before boarding I heard the agent at the counter call my name. Uh oh!

With slight trepidation I approached the counter. The agent informed me that a woman traveling with a small child had requested adjacent seats, and they’d chosen mine! I was too tired to complain so I just nodded my head in agreement and accepted my new boarding pass. Only when I returned to my chair did I bother to look – “First Class”! Cool! Maybe jumping the gun and buying that restricted ticked before the company came through would turn out OK anyway!

Finally they announced boarding! My new seat was in the front row – aisle in 1st, right next to the entry hatch, and before long I had intimate knowledge of every damned passenger in the plane as they practically sat in my lap passing by. Take-off was delayed due to a combination of trying to find a seat for an AW supercargo passenger and the additional baggage confirmation checks required for all checked baggage. The attendant informed me that they were now required to match every checked bag to a confirmed passenger on the plane. Normally this was only done for International flights, but since 9-11 it was being applied to domestic travel as well.

We lifted off about 20 minutes late, and as soon as we were airborne the pilot announced that due to expected severe turbulence for the entire duration of the flight to LAX, there would be no drink or peanut service, and all attendants would be required to remain seated and strapped in. This meant that I would spend the next hour staring into the smiling faces of the two First Class flight attendants on the fold-down jump seats directly in front of me.

They proved to be extremely pleasant, and on learning that I’d been bumped up from coach, and that I was continuing on to Bangkok, offered sage advice on obtaining further upgrades – shameless bribery and compliments. According to them, the gate agent has the power to do just about whatever they want, and were not usually beyond the influence of tactical schmoozing. I thanked them and filed the information away for future use.

We landed at Terminal 1, and according to the agent at the gate, Northwest flew from Terminal 2, right next door. Excellent! No need to do the shuttle dance to the International Terminal! Exiting T1 I did 90-degree turn to the right and walked about 200 yards to Terminal 2. Moments later I was through security and at the gate, with almost 2 hours to stay awake before departure.

When they posted the flight I bolted to the counter and made my plea for an upgrade. Please take my money I begged (OK, so it was more like “Please take my company’s money!”)! The very severe looking lady behind the counter looked at me like the timorous child from Oliver asking for “More, please!”. Properly chastised I wondered the gate area aimlessly until departure was announced.

In my mind I had equated this flight with the official start of the trip, and I was anxious for the “preliminary” stuff to be over. After what seemed like eons, boarding began! Luckily I was near the back of the plane, so I was in the first group following Business Class. Speaking of “Business Class”, I think I found a reason to hate every single one of those smug bastards who would be traveling in their extra wide and padded seats with personal entertainment systems and foot rests. Envy is such an ugly emotion.

To my great surprise and pleasure, I found my center section aisle seat to be roomy and well padded, with adequate legroom. It reminded me of the pre-deregulation domestic airline seats. The passenger next to me turned out to be a Thai returning home from his brother’s graduation in Tennessee. I pestered the poor man shamelessly for details on his favorite places in Thailand until he was forced to fend me off with a “I’m not a travel agent you know.” I quickly apologized and left the poor man alone for the duration of the flight.

I then took a few moments to review the menu card. They would be serving dinner, a snack, and then breakfast before we landed at Narita. I was suddenly very aware of how much time I’d be spending inside this aircraft. The bad part was that I was now wide-awake.

The hours ground by in an endless series of meals, movies, short fitful naps and head breaks. If Dante were alive and writing today, I have no doubt that one of his circles of Purgatory would include an endless intercontinental trans-pacific flight in coach.

Then I heard the most welcome words in the English language “Flight attendants, prepare for landing.” Yeah baby!

When we deplaned at Narita, I stood on the jet way for a minute or so waiting for my sleep deprived brain to grasp what I was seeing – entry to the gate area was denied and we would have to go around and through security again. Damn they’re paranoid in Japan!

An hour later I was seated in a slightly less comfortable but still acceptable seat for the final 6-hour flight to Bangkok. They fed us again, and moments later I was sound asleep. I awoke about an hour before we landed, and barely had time to drag myself back to full consciousness before we were being told to deplane and get on a bus to passport control and customs.

It’s at this point that you can make good use of whatever reserve energy you may have stored up in a sprint from the bus to passport control - its well worth the risk of heat stroke to get ahead of the hoard of retired package tourists.

It took about 30 minutes to enter the country and get my passport stamped. Having no luggage to pick up I breezed through the “nothing to declare” line and found myself at the arrivals area. First things first – I exchanged about $100 for Baht to cover the cab and that night’s entertainment (it was 11:30, so I only had 2.5 hours left to spend it). I then made the mistake of hiring a cab at the airport booth – and paying at least 3 times what a metered taxi would have cost. Lessons learned.

As I exited the secure area I was immediately confronted with a mob of women and drivers holding up signs. I’m sure the women weren’t too particular about who stepped up to them claiming to be the “Gus” on their sign. I imagine that’s exactly what they were there for.

So after trying to drive the cab myself, we set off for the Marriott. The air smelled like any polluted metropolitan area in the States. We could have been in LA as far as my nose was concerned.

About 20 minutes later we pulled up to the hotel. A smiling doorman opened the cab door and greeted me with “Sawasdee Krap!” I returned his hello in English. A bellman then took my carryon and led me to registration.

Key in hand I bolted to the room, tossed my crap inside, washed 25 hours of travel off and flew back out the door. Nana Plaza was calling my name!

Stepping outside the main entrance to the Marriott, I took an immediate right to the corner, another right on Sukumvit, walked about 100 yards past endless street vendors and food stalls, being careful to avoid the greatest danger that Bangkok seemed to offer – breaking your ankle on the crappy, uneven sidewalk paving. One last right at Soi 3/2 (also known as Soi Nana) and 50 feet later there was Nana Plaza on the left.

It took a conscious effort to look right last before stepping off the curb to cross the street – Thailand suffers from the influence of the British Empire – they drive on the left. Safely across the first thing you are confronted with is Big Dogs Beer Bar on the left. To the right is a street food stall. Once past the Nana equivalent of the Pillars of Hercules, you find yourself in an enclosed plaza three floors high, with the open area on the ground floor completely occupied by various small beer bars. Stairs to the upper floors can be found to the left or right as soon as you enter the square. Numerous clubs occupy each floor, with the most notable (in my short experience) on the ground floor being Playschool on the right, followed by Hollywood Rock and in the back left corner, Voodoo. I never made it into Rainbow 2, but others have posted good things about it here recently.

I skipped the first and second floor and headed directly to the third. My first stop would be Carnival. It’s actually quite large inside, with a two tiered center stage (the only two-tier revolving stage in Asia!), with padded benches around the perimeter, and a main stage in back. There are two bars – one in front and the other in back. A quick tour didn’t show anything promising, so I headed right back out and made my way to G-Spot. The G-Spot occupies the center section of the “U” and is another quite large Nana club. They all seem to follow the same basic format of padded benches in tiers around the perimeter of the central stage area. The only variable is the size and number of the stages. The selection seemed a bit better here, so I allowed the waitress to seat me and I ordered a Singha. It wasn’t an awful beer, and actually in its graininess reminded me quite a bit of the Iron City Beer of my Western Pa youth. It was a bit heavy for serious consumption though, so I would soon make the switch to the much lighter and very drinkable Singha Gold.

The waitress sat down next to me and began flirting, along with a dancer next to her. In the darkness of the club the dancer seemed perfectly acceptable, especially with closing time rapidly approaching, so I bought them both a drink. The dancer’s name was Sang. I have no idea what the waitress’s name was. Soon it was time for Sang to take the stage, and I was most impressed by her moves, which of course she was directing entirely at me. I just love a good sales pitch!

When she returned to my bench I signed up for the Long Time package, and paid the 600 baht barfine. She ran to change, and by the time she returned the lights came up and we all filed out. The waitress was slightly miffed that I didn’t BF her, but I’m sure she managed to get over it. A question that begs answering is why pay the bar fine if the club is about to close? This actually happened to me a number of times, and every time the girl was most insistent on paying it. I would later avoid it by doing repeats with my favorites and simply calling their cells when the clubs closed and having them come directly to the room. I think the expectation is that if you walk in the club, you’re going to pay the fine.

Photo: Sang1
Photo: Sang2

Sang aged a good 10 years in the brighter light outside the club, but she was still decent enough to fuck - low 7 territory – nice body, but a few miles on the face.

Once in the room following the requisite showers I was most impressed with her fine looking completely shaven pussy. I just couldn’t resist. Down I went. And down. And down.

After the second O she closed up the pussy snack shop, and we proceeded with the fucking. Very talented. Very tight. Following another round of showers and a few hours sleep, I went down for another nosh until she popped for the third time. She then evicted my ass (ok, tongue) from the pussy hotel. Something about draining her power…

We fucked again and then spend the rest of the morning/afternoon wrestling on the bed as I tried to get in one last lick. It was a fucking riot.

Finally at 3pm she left and I overpaid her outrageously by giving her 3K baht. I got cleaned up and went downstairs to have a late and very welcome lunch at the Marriott Cafe. Damn! I missed the much-ballyhooed breakfast buffet. Little did I know that this would soon become a habit.

To be continued…

drew Moo Yai