The ruins of Ayuttaya
By the time we got back, the sun was on the horizon. I went back to the hotel and got cleaned up. I’d tried calling Corker, but there was no answer. No matter, it was time to pay a visit to soi Cowboy.
Cowboy has traditionally been my favorite entertainment center. I had such incredible luck with such amazing girls there in my previous trips. It always makes me feel good, but it always makes me feel bad because the places that I used to go are never the same. Some bars close, some change management and all change staff.
As I did at Nana, I stood at the end of Cowboy and just soaked it all in for a bit before making my way through the bars. I allowed myself to be bodily dragged into each and every bar by whatever girls were standing outside. I’d peek in, and, if I liked what I saw, I stepped inside. A quick look around to see the lay of the land; if the girls were attractive and enthusiastic, and the place was not over-run with guys, I’d go in and have a drink. Otherwise, time to move on (after shaking whatever girls had physically latched on to me.
A complete tour of Cowboy took less than two hours. By then I had established a short list of a few bars with potential cowgirls ready for a trail ride through Wombat country. The winning bar that night was one where I’d had so many great experiences in the past (including the time I had to administer 1st aid to a girl who’d fallen down the stairs): Dollhouse.
You’ve probably noticed that when the girls aren’t dancing, they all tend to congregate in one or two areas. I make it a point to identify those areas and either sit right in the middle or just off to one side. While not the best position to watch them dance, it’s a great opportunity to meet them informally (without getting pestered for lady drinks). I sat in a booth right beside their informal nest and made oogly eyes at them.
I’d narrowed my selection to a few Dolls, but one particularly good looking girl really stood out. Whether due to design (plastic surgery) or luck (farang parent), this girl was in possession of an uncharacteristically-Thai long nose. She looked fantastic. I had a couple of drinks with her and she was more than happy to accompany me, but I was not getting a great vibe from her.
There was a rather ordinary girl who walked by frequently who kept making serious eye contact with me. She wasn’t particularly pretty, but there was an enigmatic quality about her that I found very appealing. I told farang nose to run along and called over the mysterious girl.
Mystery was twenty years old, no more than five feet tall, slim but with no hard stomach, slightly uneven white teeth and she would hardly turn heads walking down the street. However, she had a good feeling about her. I bought her a drink and we talked.
She’d arrived in Bangkok only a week earlier. She was not your typically excited smiling bar girl, but relaxed and poised. She was so comforting to be with that my guard came down surprisingly fast. Although I obtained few details on her past, I found out that she had not yet been bar fined. “Well, I know what we can do to cure that.”
The look on her face as I told her I would take her for the night was a combination of relief, gratitude and of suppressed happiness. I can imagine she was lured to Bangkok by the promise of making good money. Not having yet been bar fined, I suppose she was getting a bit anxious. “Are you sure you want to go with me?” I asked, one eyebrow raised. Mystery nodded vigorously. “Go get dressed!”
As she walked off, Mystery’s friend was screaming and laughing and clapping on the stage. The two girls slapped hands as she dashed off to the change room. She came back out in jeans, t-shirt and a genuine smile.
In the hotel, I started walking toward the elevator. Mystery gestured to wait a moment and started digging in her purse as she walked to the lobby desk. “Give ID” she told me. She did this in a way that did not give the impression she’d done it many times before. It was, for her, some sort of ritualistic behavior.
Once in the room, she looked around. Unlike Corker, she was politely inquisitive. It was rather obvious she’d never been in a good hotel. An idea struck me. I filled the tub and added soap to make bubbles. She was delighted with the results. She insisted on showering before getting into the tub however. We splashed around and had a good time.
In the sack, Mystery was not nearly as fun as Corker, nor as talented, but she was a delightful companion nevertheless.
The next morning, after a bit of good-morning sanuking, we got dressed and headed downstairs. It took the staff a few minutes to find Mystery’s ID card. I had the impression that they didn’t get too many of them. That’s not terribly surprising since the Radisson is a bit out of the way and just about everyone I ran into were tourists. It made for humorously awkward moments when I rode the elevator with one of my companions and a newlywed couple got in.
Morning from the Radisson
The hotel included a small bake shop. I directed Mystery inside, with the thought of having a bite before we parted ways. She looked carefully at the items on display. I was wondering if she’d ever even seen baked goods when she admitted to me that she was, in fact, a confectionary baker! She explained, in all seriousness, that she hoped to open her own shop some day. I was most impressed.
We were going in opposite directions that day, so I said goodbye to Mystery, put her in a taxi and sent her on her way.