The Doll Shop on Go-Go Street - Part 6

Kim opened her eyes and looked out the car window at the outskirts of Khon Kaen. A pall of smoke hung over the city; a combination of charcoal cooking fires, vehicle fumes and the burning rice fields. She remembered coming down to Bangkok on the bus; the fine black ash had covered her skin and clothes when it poured in through the open windows of the un-air-conditioned vehicle every time they passed a rice farm. She wasn’t aware that the farmers did it to put the minerals from the rice stalks back into the soil; she only knew it had been done time out of mind, long before her ancestors had come out of the North West and settled the Isaan plateau. The stronger tribes, the true Thais, had taken the more fertile valleys of the North, but their cousins the Lao had moved further east along the Mekong, stopping in the North East when they met the westward moving Khmer.

She wondered what Bill would be like in bed, she was inexperienced with Westerners but had watched them in the bar. The strong, loud men could be unpredictable. She suspected that sometimes their attitude was a cover for something that was wrong in their lives. She hoped it wasn’t anything sexual, often if there were problems there the man would blame the girl and things could get nasty. She preferred the shy ones, the ones who seemed almost grateful for what was only a paid service. She looked at the back of Jack’s head as he sat in the front passenger seat talking to Bill who drove. There would almost certainly be problems there. Something was being suppressed, something else was driving him. She hoped Malee would be smart enough to handle him.

She snuggled closer into Malee whose small arms held her friend close as she slept. The men had the air conditioning too high and she wished they had a blanket. Farangs were funny like that, they liked to be freezing cold then wondered why they got sick all the time. Hopefully they would stay the night here; there had been a major bus and truck accident a hundred kilometers south blocking most of both sides of the highway and holding them up for several hours. Bill had cursed monotonously and banged the steering wheel in impatient fury. Stupid to get so upset over something like a traffic jam.

She was starving anyway. She hoped they could eat street food; one of those barbecued fish, it’s sides slashed and coarse salt and spices rubbed into it’s flesh and served with khau niaow, sticky rice, another Isaan specialty. She didn’t think there was much of a chance though, the men would want beef and potatoes. She wondered if the hotel restaurant had a good Isaan cook as well. Kim went back to sleep almost instantly.

Jack looked back over his shoulder and grinned at Bill.

“You were right about them sleeping all the way. Look at them, real sleeping beauties. Anyone would think they were lesbians as well the way they wrap themselves around each other”.

“Probably bat for both sides” Bill smirked, turning off the main highway towards the commercial centre of the city.

“Strangely enough I don’t think so” Jack mused, “I have a theory it’s all about affection. They don’t get any off their Thai boyfriends who only want sex, and the customers would be a pretty mixed bag anyway. Lots of hang ups there” he said, never suspecting for a moment that Kim had just wondered about his.

“Paying for sex all the time must really get to some people after a while, they’d start wondering about there ability to pull a bird in the real world”.

“Nah” Bill scoffed, “a lot of the punters couldn’t do that before they came here anyway. That silly Yank, Ritchie, got pissed one night and told me he’d never had as much as a sniff before he got here. I got the impression he might have had one bad experience but wouldn’t talk about it”.

He stretched his arms and shoulders as the traffic came to a halt. “Blokes like you and me though, we came here to work; it’s just so much easier to pay a barfine and get laid than chase the good girls. That leads to all sorts of crap… they want to get married, try to kill themselves when you dump them. Jesus, a mate of mine had two university students on the go at the same time and they found out about each other. One took to him with a cleaver and the other was found floating in the Klong. There was fucking hell to pay to say nothing of having to get his ear stitched back on”.

Jack laughed coarsely, “he s lucky it was only his ear, but then I suppose she thought he wouldn’t be much use to her with his cock heading down the soi inside a duck”.

“They’re more complicated than the bargirls” Bill interrupted, “at least you know where you stand with them. I reckon they make the best wives too if you get them young. Look at that Malee, she’d lap up a bit of affection. Just get her away from the real hookers like Daeng so she doesn’t get any ideas about making a quick buck on the side doing short times”.
He shook his head, “you’ve got to watch the Thai lads as well; when I’m ready to settle I’ll get a house somewhere south of Bangkok where my wife doesn’t know anyone… let her mum and sisters come and visit, maybe move in to do the house work. I don’t want her miserable and homesick all day. But no men or boys, I wouldn’t be the first mug to catch his wife in bed with her ‘brother’!”

Jack shook his head, “No way would you catch me marrying a bargirl; a rich Hi-So girl who would keep me in style perhaps but the chances of my meeting one are fairly slim unless I go into writing about movies and pop music and I’ve always hated that shit”.
He peered out of the window at the dusty streets. “Where are we going, Bill? Have you got a hotel in mind or will we just cruise until we find somewhere?”
“I’ve got the name of a place in the city center, Sofitel something, four or five star with everything in the building, restaurant, nightclub, disco…. even a top floorshow a guy told me, a singer from some TV show with an all girl band and a ladyboy dance troupe”, he grimaced at the thought, “not that I normally go for that poofter stuff, but a good show’s different, bit of a laugh and apparently the girl can really sing”.

Bill suddenly swerved out of the traffic into a driveway, “here it is, bloody hell this first beer’s going to taste good, it won’t even touch the sides going down. Hope they’ve got a decent restaurant so we can stay in, have a feed and a few drinks and then do our manly duty by the girls”.
He sneered at the city street as he pulled the car to a halt “I don’t fancy going out in this much… typical bloody Isaan bargirl factory, no action at all I wouldn’t think”.
He grinned back at the sleeping girls, “Wakey wakey ladies, food and intercourse await you, what more could a Thai girl in the prime of life wish for”?

-o-

Ritchie finally gave up and headed for Mata Hari, it was late but they’d got a good days work out of him and a few beers wouldn’t mess his head up too much. He knew he wouldn’t sleep anyway, he needed something else besides alcohol. Funny when he lived in the States he had hardly thought about sex. His Mom had run off when he was small and his heavily drinking father had got religion soon after.
He supposed he’d preferred Dad as the harmless voluble drunk who had come and sat on his bed and told him stories about Vietnam, occasionally cursing the “long haired hippy draft dodgers and Four F losers” who had taken all the good jobs and made their fortunes while he fought for his country. Usually though he talked about the great R & R passes in Bangkok, drinking and carousing with the welcoming girls. Ritchie had been contemptuous of his father considering him a weak man, but when he turned into a religious zealot and part time preacher he decided he had been better off with the first model.

A meal never passed with a continuous lecture on the dangers of self abuse when young. Even worse than this sin was out of wedlock intercourse with cheap harlots…. “HARLOTS” the old man would scream, “You throw your immortal soul away for a few minutes pleasure with harlots”.
When Ritchie’s grandparents bought him a computer he knew he’d found the path to real salvation; this was the key to the door that led away from his near deranged father. He did every computer course available in high school then signed for a college on the other side of the country.

In college a few girls were attracted to the shy, geekish young man but he avoided their advances, convincing himself he had no time for distractions. When an aggressive older student finally pushed her way into his room one night and deflowered him he felt all his fathers warnings were true. It took her more than an hour and all her experience to get him erect only to find the act lasting a few seconds. Laughing scornfully she left the room with a parting words of advice. “you’d better see a shrink about those hang ups boy, it’s a hard life if you can’t make a woman happy”.

This was the sum total of his experience until one day his employer, a leading West Coast website design company, told him he had to fly out to Bangkok for a month and help a local company doing work in the Thai brewery industry.
The assistant manager winked at him, “watch out for those girls over there son, they’ll pull you on like a wet sock” laughing crudely at his own joke. Ritchie’s shyness with women was a standard jest in the company.
An American met him at the Airport, “I’ll drop you at your hotel and pick you up in the morning about nine, I’ve got an advance from the accountant to show you around; we’ll do the customer first, a quick tour of the city then dinner and see a bit of nightlife over a few drinks eh?”
More primly than he intended Ritchie said “I don’t drink alcohol I’m afraid”.
The older man looked at him knowingly, “not one of those God botherers are you?”
Too quickly, Ritchie denied it, “my old man had a problem with booze” he said, “put me off a bit”.
“Well the client will expect you to have a social drink here, just put plenty of ice in the glass, it’ll dilute it down”.

The next day Ritchie found the sprawling, seething city fascinating. But to his amazement he couldn’t take his eyes of the thousands of girls that covered the city landscape. No loudmouthed brassy blondes these, they were everything a woman should be; shy, modest and deferring to men in all things.
Later that night when his guide led him into one of Nana Plaza ’s most famous bars the Mama San fixed her gaze on him and summed him up in an instant. With a flick of her eyes she summonsed a tiny baby faced dancer who looked no more than fourteen while actually being over thirty with three Farang sponsors and a tuktuk driving Thai boyfriend who took all her money. She sat shyly down next to Ritchie and leant against him. Her small fingers stroked his inner thigh then crept upwards. She gasped in feigned amazement, “so big, so strong, so hard,” she whispered. And like a miracle it was true… he WAS big and strong and hard.

The Fates spin their web and men rush to its entangling mesh. We forget that Discord waits to cut the thread.

Late the next morning she was ruing the day she had set eyes on Ritchie, rubbed almost raw from the frantic continuous sex. They had long run out of condoms and she staggered to the shower hoping to hose out all of those little baby makers before one took. She shook her head in wonder at the exhausted sleeping man. It had been fun for a while but he’d better get that out of his system or the word would get around for the girls to start charging him double.
At the end of the month Ritchie resigned his job, cashed in his return ticket and started looking for freelance work in the aptly named City of Angels.

-o-

Bob was usually glad to see Ritchie; it wasn’t a fellow American thing, he despised many of his countrymen who came in complaining about the Thais, the Brits, the Germans and anyone else who caused them offence. Most of them claimed to be Vets but some couldn’t answer the simplest questions about military life and it was obvious that few had heard a shot fired in anger.
Ritchie never got into this, his sole interest was bargirls; he totally ignored the fact that Bob was an Afro-American, it was though it never occurred to him which was far better than the usual “when I was growing up in Virginia some of my best friends were nigras”, which he got from drunks.

He signaled the barmaid to bring Ritchie a beer and pointed to his own check bin indicating it was on him. He religiously ran a tab for himself every day and paid it the same as the customers did. He allowed about ten drinks a day to give regulars or a big spending newcomer but he always paid out of his own pocket. Most sensible bar owners did this, it got them away from the concept of “all this booze is mine, mine, mine” which could lead to serious problems.

“Bill and Jack get away all right?” Ritchie asked, assuming by their absence that they had. “Who did they end up taking?”
“The two new girls” Bob grunted, “best thing for them, get them used to Farangs in a friendly situation and get them acquainted with living the good life. Aircon, cars, hotel restaurants…tom yam kung every day” he grinned.
“Funny about the new girls arriving now though. A few years ago all they wanted to talk about was food, what they fancied… what they’d buy when they made a big score. Now it’s different, they talk about love, finding a nice guy, not necessarily a rich one. It’s all from the fucking TV they’ve grown up with.
The next favorite topic is their TV shows, the soap operas… you’ve seen them glued to the screen. That’s where they get the idea of romantic love from. Before that love was for children, they thought that the rest was getting knocked up, married and having kids. A lot want a Farang husband now, I saw this in the Philippines when I was stationed there, the girls there know all about love, the Spanish and Americans saw to that, but for the Thais it was never an issue”.

He mused over his drink, “it could be the beginning of the end of the bargirl system here as we know it, as each girl gets married that’s the next generation we lose. Farangs don’t want their daughters coming down here whoring. Sure we’ll get a few but they’ll be true hookers at heart, like the Las Vegas girls, good for a quick fuck but watch your wallet all the time”.
He shrugged philosophically, “I must admit I think it’s for the best, I hate watching some of the beautiful, innocent girls that come here get ruined for life. I hope Kim and Malee come back married to those two guys and give their notice. It’ll just about wreck me and the Mama San will cut her throat but I can always move to Phnom Penh and start again.
You know what Ritchie?” it was late and the bar owner was getting drunk, “the best bargirls come from the poorest families”.
“You think it’s about money? Sure it is, but it’s also that here is the only good time they’ve ever had in their lives. It’s a party every night and the only party they’ve ever known”.
He stopped when he saw the look of horrified amusement on Ritchie’s face. Bursting into laughter he slapped the smaller man on the shoulder. “Don’t worry pal, it’s only old Bob getting philosophical after a few drinks”.

He saw Noi eyeing him warily and blew her a kiss. He pointed to Daeng and Nok, “tell them to come over here and have a drink, it’s getting late, we’ll close in a minute”.
“I’ll have to think about replacing you two” he said as the girls arrived and ordered Thai whiskey and soda. “Still here at this time of night, you must be getting old and losing your touch”,
Daeng puffed up in pretended outrage. “I go three short time today, how many young girl you see do so many?”
Ritchie laughed, “be careful you don’t wear it out” he said, inwardly marveling that he could joke around with women like this after the years of painful shyness.
“You’ll have to go back to Korat planting rice.”
Daeng pulled down the front of her bikini bottom exposing the shaven source of her income. “Still plenty year left yet Ritch” she crowed. “Plenty left for you tonight if you have money!”

The four friends clinked their glasses in a genuine toast, laughing together. Bob knew that the two girls would head for Nana Disco as soon as he closed. The famed “Cheap Charlie” pick up spot where girls flocked if their bar closed before they had a customer for the night.
He wouldn’t mind going out himself but he knew it was only an excuse to drink more and Noi would worry while he was gone. She wouldn’t try to stop him, she realised he had to mix with other bar owners and pick up the gossip. Which girls had been sacked for stealing off customers, who had a serious drug problem. They all turned a blind eye to a little amphetamine use, a lot of the girls used it to keep themselves up, to stay alert in the smoky bars when customers were buying lady drinks and insisting on shooters, high octane shots of nearly straight liquor.

He remembered the fabled Misty’s A Go-Go in Pattaya one night when the mad Australian had bought tray after tray of vodka shooters for the bar. The dancers screaming drunk, while the waitresses smashed the empty metal trays onto the floor to add to the din while everyone toasted their benefactor who returned their salutes with tears streaming down his face. That must have been one baaad mother fucker of a divorce he was celebrating.

Ritchie interrupted Bob’s reverie by announcing his departure. He had considered bar fining Daeng, he’d done it before and if the chemistry was right it could lead to some crazy sex. But he realised it wasn’t there tonight, he had too much on his mind with the job and it’s implications; he would pick up a street girl and send her home after a couple of quick bangs. Daeng would want to stay all night, demanding more sex and then to sleep there all day. No, too many complications he decided.

© Julian. All rights reserved by the author.