(extracts with 230 photos)
All text and photos © to the author, Rakit
Grateful acknowledgement to Jock McCock for comments, humour and companionship
Part 7: A Night in Bangkok
The flight home loomed. Rakit got caught in a flash flood at Mike’s Shopping Mall and had to run for it through the rain to catch the Dynasty shuttle to Bangkok. Predictably, the driver was late, he ended up waiting 40 minutes and the service slow, characterised by sharp braking and uncomfortable seats.
Approaching Bangkok nearly 3 hours later, cramped in the shitty seats with no legroom and irritated by the incompetent driving he thought “Why is it most Thai drivers see no further than their own bonnet?” He checked into the Dynasty in Soi 4, situated close to Nana Plaza and convenient for gash, grub and the taxi to Don Muang later that night. It was a dump compared to its sister hotel in Pattaya and the whole area had a much seedier feel. But location, location, location was all important on a tight schedule. He strolled around a bit to experience Bangkok before he went for the kill. A few flea-ridden Soi dogs pitifully scampered out of his way and they reminded him of the detritus and filth that this city contains.
He ate a fine middle-eastern mezza and smoked a water-pipe of apple-flavoured tobacco in a Moslem place between Sois 3 and 5, then headed for his own Mecca of the day, Nana Entertainment Plaza.
Rakit always chuckled at the bargirls and GoGo dancers who prayed as they arrived to work in Nana Plaza. “That Buddha’s a right forgiving old bugger” he thought, eternally thankful for that simple fact which permitted the debauchery that surrounded him, 3 stories high, to flourish.
Nana was beginning to buzz. Quite literally hundreds of girls were trooping into the place through the narrow entrance from Soi 4, up the flights of stairs and into the bars, the GoGos and the makeshift hairdressing areas in the stairwells. He toured the various flights of stairs, eying the girls as they arrived, receiving smiles and offers of companionship, but nothing caught his eye. Eventually one of the Gogos started up and he entered and took a beer. The service girl was the best thing he’d seen in the last hour, so he bought her a drink, chatted her up and she hesitantly agreed to a short-time after a little persuasion and went off to change. When she came back with her jeans on, the 10 GoGo dancers whooped and cheered and clapped and she visibly blushed. This girl hadn’t been around much, thought Rakit. Fucking perfect.
And that was Thailand.
Photo: Service Girl 95