A quick story about Pimps in Bangkok, this is for Sammy. (100% legit)
a quick story about Bangkok pimps.
Getting off the plane in Bangkok, I had found myself with a young sidekick. He was an Asian missionary bound for the Lord Jesus’ work in Singapore and had a 9 hour layover to kill.
The boy, well, first of all, let’s just call him Lil’ Billy. (Who the fuck cares what his name was. He was a real person, but not the most memorable christian soldier you could meet. the naming him just makes the story easier.) Lil’ Billy was 19 and a virgin. He had never even smoked before but this was his first time away from the watchful eyes of people (and maybe god for that matter) that watched him so closely to basically throw him into a fear coma when he farted, so he was letting loose. He bought a carton. We laughed as he choked down 4 jacks just to get the courage to leave the terminal overhang.
How I ended up essentially being his legal guardian in Bangkok was pretty simple. He had sat next to me on the plane and after 13 hours of me explaining the “ins and outs” of the south Asian sex trade, he finally opened up and stuttered out the fact that he was a virgin. I figured hey fuck it, pet project, let’s get this kid laid. Its gonna be on his tab, and for my trouble the night as a whole would be on his credit card. Done and done.
So we got into a taxi and I told the driver. “Girls, please.”
We were at some shit bar in eight minutes. It was a fucking disaster from minute zero. They wanted fifteen dollars a cocktail and then middle aged Asian women would come over in their evening gowns and order themselves a double. (by the way, Asian women that look middle aged are actually much closer in age to 135. My apologies to every other race, but its true. Asians as a whole live to be around 200, and their women look phenomenal well into their seventies. Its freaky.)
So these worn out old whores started touching my little adopted son, and I lost my shit with anger. I started to freak out and get loud and screamed for the taxi driver, who was at the bar getting loaded with free drinks for bringing us “fresh of the boat” Americans with our fat wallets for a visit, to get his fucking bastard kickbacking ass back into the ride and take us somewhere where there were women to be bought.
It was an argument because they wanted to keep Lil’ Billy’s credit card to “plocess the bill” and I grabbed it and ran outside waiting for them to come out after me to at least fight in the street with witnesses. There was no trouble. We got in the car and took off.
I screamed at the cabbie for a good 5 minutes until we stopped at another bar or at least what seemed like a bar until we got inside and then it became clear that it was just a lobby that was the size of a bar with a curtain of one wall. I walked right to the curtain, knowing damn well what was behind it, and demanded to see what was here. There were five men who worked there, two on either side of the curtain. They drew it back and sitting on velvet steps that were inside of this bizarre human aquarium were 25 of the most mediocre and well-worn 30-year-old bikini-clad Asian girls I’ve ever seen in my life. My Lil’ Billy lost his shit. It might have been the fact that they all had on those sexy bingo number buttons over their right breasts. 1 through 25, with some numbers in between missing
Lil’ Billy looked over at me with a smile so big he was tearing up and said
“Dude. We found it.”
My heart sank. Not only was I going to have to talk our way out of there after loudly cutting the shit and demanding to see the goods and finding that the goods were not that good at all, but I was going to have to tell the horny little bible boy that he could do better at a Chinatown massage parlor, that these girls looked for the most part like goddamn cancer eyed goldfish, those fucking cheap mutated carp that live in the front of gilded Chinese food restaurants that are classy enough to have seating. It was an awkward thing. So I just out and said it.
“Lil’ Billy, these women are fucking disgusting. We’re out of here.”
“What?”
“They look like they all have aids ok? Go. Now.”
And although I had just said some terrible shit in a whorehouse that was awkward and bullshit enough not to even have some fucking background music to cut the tension, it was just dead silence except for the four guys standing by the glass window, and the full blown “beach style pimp gear” looking motherfucker (he was in white chinos, had on one of those windbreakers that people wear when they lifeguard but it was military colored, and wrap around Oakley’s.) who was standing at best 7 feet away, we were still alright. It had all gone in one ear and out the other.
The trouble came when Lil’ Billy noticed empty seats on the stairs. He thought that maybe those girls were the hot ones and maybe they keep them in back for guys with more money.
“No, Lil’ Billy. Those girls are in back because they are busy getting fucking slammed.”
“Well, maybe they will be done soon.”
“What, you want some sloppy 42nds? Fuck these ugly bitches Lil’ Billy, let’s go.”
So as I remember it, it was that last “ugly bitches” comment that most likely made the pimp attack me. He ran at me (all seven feet between us, which is intense) and pushed me into Lil’ Billy, knocking him down and me well back, scrambling to keep my feet under me. And although this guy was only about as tall as Harvey Kietel, he was BUILT like Harvey Kietel. I was fucked. And for some stupid running my mouth shit.
So he screamed
“You no like girl? I fucking fuck you! Asshole! You fucking pay for girl!”
then I swear to my fucking god he pulled out nun-chucks. Never in my life have I seen someone pull that shit out as a real weapon before (not counting idiot Florida shit.) but it is absolutely not like the movies. It’s like pulling out a fucking police baton. He didn’t swing shit; he didn’t hold them out and stretch the cord between them. He just held them together and fucking waved them in my face like he was going to kill me. And he wanted to. He wanted to kill me.
So as he was robbing us for the dirty sex we didn’t have with his ugly bitches, I backed up and tried to keep in mind that when you get attacked by a little person you have to be very cautious not to make a move towards them that seems aggressive. You have to try and puff up and look big, but always be putting distance between you. So I took a few steps back and stood up straight and helped up Lil’ Billy.
Pimp- “Pay me seventy dollars you motherfucker!
I got Lil’ Billy all the way up and put him between me and the pimp, in case the pimp felt like he needed to hit someone to express how serious this was, (I knew how serious it was and therefore did not need to be hit at all) and told Lil’ Billy to pay the man seventy dollars. The pimp was fucking livid that I wasn’t the one paying, but Lil’ Billy had his wallet open so fast that he got distracted when genius Lil’ Billy only had a twenty and a hundred to choose from. The pimp took the 120 and let us leave.
Back in the cab Lil’ Billy started getting desperate, and started to plead with the cabbie. It was 4 in the morning by this point and he was running out of time in Gomorrah. The cabbie then said he had an idea. He pulled off the main road, which made me think that his great new idea was to kill us and bury our bodies in a ditch. Instead he pulled up at a little house and beeped a few times. Up ran a girl who seemed about our age and she got into the front seat.
We sped back on the highway and they jabbered on for a few minutes and she kept looking back at Lil’ Billy and then whining to the cabbie. Very quickly the cabbie turned off the lights, making it pitch black inside the car and I heard a dull meaty thwap like someone just got punched in the face. When she started crying it became clear that some things sound like specific things for a reason. Then he screamed at her for about thirty seconds and she stopped crying and calmed down. That’s about when I started threatening to kill the guy if he didn’t pull over and let me the fuck out.
He pulled over and looked back at us and said the following
“Fine, go out, or stay and fuck. She is 20 dollars for one or 30 for both.”
Lil’ Billy looked at me and said that he had to do it before his plane takes off. He just has to. I told him that this was all fucked and that I hoped I never saw him again. I stole his carton of cigarettes and 45 dollars that he had apparently hidden in the box.
I got out of the car and walked in the general direction of my airport to find a cab that would take me “only to my hotel” that I never bothered checking into and spent the majority of the 3 hour walk hoping and praying that the delivery company I hired actually delivered my luggage to my room and that I wasn’t killed on route back to a bed that would be air-conditioned and thankfully empty.
and that’s the story of my first 9 or so hours in Bangkok. I was there for a week. it was fucking insane. I thought I was going to get killed every fucking day. totally insane.
I really want to go back soon.
Getting off the plane in Bangkok, I had found myself with a young sidekick. He was an Asian missionary bound for the Lord Jesus’ work in Singapore and had a 9 hour layover to kill.
The boy, well, first of all, let’s just call him Lil’ Billy. (Who the fuck cares what his name was. He was a real person, but not the most memorable christian soldier you could meet. the naming him just makes the story easier.) Lil’ Billy was 19 and a virgin. He had never even smoked before but this was his first time away from the watchful eyes of people (and maybe god for that matter) that watched him so closely to basically throw him into a fear coma when he farted, so he was letting loose. He bought a carton. We laughed as he choked down 4 jacks just to get the courage to leave the terminal overhang.
How I ended up essentially being his legal guardian in Bangkok was pretty simple. He had sat next to me on the plane and after 13 hours of me explaining the “ins and outs” of the south Asian sex trade, he finally opened up and stuttered out the fact that he was a virgin. I figured hey fuck it, pet project, let’s get this kid laid. Its gonna be on his tab, and for my trouble the night as a whole would be on his credit card. Done and done.
So we got into a taxi and I told the driver. “Girls, please.”
We were at some shit bar in eight minutes. It was a fucking disaster from minute zero. They wanted fifteen dollars a cocktail and then middle aged Asian women would come over in their evening gowns and order themselves a double. (by the way, Asian women that look middle aged are actually much closer in age to 135. My apologies to every other race, but its true. Asians as a whole live to be around 200, and their women look phenomenal well into their seventies. Its freaky.)
So these worn out old whores started touching my little adopted son, and I lost my shit with anger. I started to freak out and get loud and screamed for the taxi driver, who was at the bar getting loaded with free drinks for bringing us “fresh of the boat” Americans with our fat wallets for a visit, to get his fucking bastard kickbacking ass back into the ride and take us somewhere where there were women to be bought.
It was an argument because they wanted to keep Lil’ Billy’s credit card to “plocess the bill” and I grabbed it and ran outside waiting for them to come out after me to at least fight in the street with witnesses. There was no trouble. We got in the car and took off.
I screamed at the cabbie for a good 5 minutes until we stopped at another bar or at least what seemed like a bar until we got inside and then it became clear that it was just a lobby that was the size of a bar with a curtain of one wall. I walked right to the curtain, knowing damn well what was behind it, and demanded to see what was here. There were five men who worked there, two on either side of the curtain. They drew it back and sitting on velvet steps that were inside of this bizarre human aquarium were 25 of the most mediocre and well-worn 30-year-old bikini-clad Asian girls I’ve ever seen in my life. My Lil’ Billy lost his shit. It might have been the fact that they all had on those sexy bingo number buttons over their right breasts. 1 through 25, with some numbers in between missing
Lil’ Billy looked over at me with a smile so big he was tearing up and said
“Dude. We found it.”
My heart sank. Not only was I going to have to talk our way out of there after loudly cutting the shit and demanding to see the goods and finding that the goods were not that good at all, but I was going to have to tell the horny little bible boy that he could do better at a Chinatown massage parlor, that these girls looked for the most part like goddamn cancer eyed goldfish, those fucking cheap mutated carp that live in the front of gilded Chinese food restaurants that are classy enough to have seating. It was an awkward thing. So I just out and said it.
“Lil’ Billy, these women are fucking disgusting. We’re out of here.”
“What?”
“They look like they all have aids ok? Go. Now.”
And although I had just said some terrible shit in a whorehouse that was awkward and bullshit enough not to even have some fucking background music to cut the tension, it was just dead silence except for the four guys standing by the glass window, and the full blown “beach style pimp gear” looking motherfucker (he was in white chinos, had on one of those windbreakers that people wear when they lifeguard but it was military colored, and wrap around Oakley’s.) who was standing at best 7 feet away, we were still alright. It had all gone in one ear and out the other.
The trouble came when Lil’ Billy noticed empty seats on the stairs. He thought that maybe those girls were the hot ones and maybe they keep them in back for guys with more money.
“No, Lil’ Billy. Those girls are in back because they are busy getting fucking slammed.”
“Well, maybe they will be done soon.”
“What, you want some sloppy 42nds? Fuck these ugly bitches Lil’ Billy, let’s go.”
So as I remember it, it was that last “ugly bitches” comment that most likely made the pimp attack me. He ran at me (all seven feet between us, which is intense) and pushed me into Lil’ Billy, knocking him down and me well back, scrambling to keep my feet under me. And although this guy was only about as tall as Harvey Kietel, he was BUILT like Harvey Kietel. I was fucked. And for some stupid running my mouth shit.
So he screamed
“You no like girl? I fucking fuck you! Asshole! You fucking pay for girl!”
then I swear to my fucking god he pulled out nun-chucks. Never in my life have I seen someone pull that shit out as a real weapon before (not counting idiot Florida shit.) but it is absolutely not like the movies. It’s like pulling out a fucking police baton. He didn’t swing shit; he didn’t hold them out and stretch the cord between them. He just held them together and fucking waved them in my face like he was going to kill me. And he wanted to. He wanted to kill me.
So as he was robbing us for the dirty sex we didn’t have with his ugly bitches, I backed up and tried to keep in mind that when you get attacked by a little person you have to be very cautious not to make a move towards them that seems aggressive. You have to try and puff up and look big, but always be putting distance between you. So I took a few steps back and stood up straight and helped up Lil’ Billy.
Pimp- “Pay me seventy dollars you motherfucker!
I got Lil’ Billy all the way up and put him between me and the pimp, in case the pimp felt like he needed to hit someone to express how serious this was, (I knew how serious it was and therefore did not need to be hit at all) and told Lil’ Billy to pay the man seventy dollars. The pimp was fucking livid that I wasn’t the one paying, but Lil’ Billy had his wallet open so fast that he got distracted when genius Lil’ Billy only had a twenty and a hundred to choose from. The pimp took the 120 and let us leave.
Back in the cab Lil’ Billy started getting desperate, and started to plead with the cabbie. It was 4 in the morning by this point and he was running out of time in Gomorrah. The cabbie then said he had an idea. He pulled off the main road, which made me think that his great new idea was to kill us and bury our bodies in a ditch. Instead he pulled up at a little house and beeped a few times. Up ran a girl who seemed about our age and she got into the front seat.
We sped back on the highway and they jabbered on for a few minutes and she kept looking back at Lil’ Billy and then whining to the cabbie. Very quickly the cabbie turned off the lights, making it pitch black inside the car and I heard a dull meaty thwap like someone just got punched in the face. When she started crying it became clear that some things sound like specific things for a reason. Then he screamed at her for about thirty seconds and she stopped crying and calmed down. That’s about when I started threatening to kill the guy if he didn’t pull over and let me the fuck out.
He pulled over and looked back at us and said the following
“Fine, go out, or stay and fuck. She is 20 dollars for one or 30 for both.”
Lil’ Billy looked at me and said that he had to do it before his plane takes off. He just has to. I told him that this was all fucked and that I hoped I never saw him again. I stole his carton of cigarettes and 45 dollars that he had apparently hidden in the box.
I got out of the car and walked in the general direction of my airport to find a cab that would take me “only to my hotel” that I never bothered checking into and spent the majority of the 3 hour walk hoping and praying that the delivery company I hired actually delivered my luggage to my room and that I wasn’t killed on route back to a bed that would be air-conditioned and thankfully empty.
and that’s the story of my first 9 or so hours in Bangkok. I was there for a week. it was fucking insane. I thought I was going to get killed every fucking day. totally insane.
I really want to go back soon.
posted by zipco at 8/02/2005 02:16:00 PM
8 Comments:
it's amazing how you manage to tell a great story that makes me wonder what the fuck is wrong with me and why i ever let you into my house, be it fictional or otherwise. it's not that i worry that i'm going to channel your fuckery, or that i worry that a lick of it's true. it's just that you're this insane! and that you say these crazy psycho things from your crazy psycho brain! crazy orange head in my house!
its one hundred percent fucking true.
not even a little is a lie or exaggeration.
go ahead, sammy, take him. ring him all up. i'm done with this crazy. to the curb zipco!
Man,
(excluding money, vacation time, and all things practical) I'll go to bangkok w/ you; I'm a virgin.
looks like you should have gone w/ the bull run though, sure it's just as barbaric, but I don't think it would've gotten you evicted.
(by the way, Asian women that look middle aged are actually much closer in age to 135. My apologies to every other race, but its true. Asians as a whole live to be around 200, and their women look phenomenal well into their seventies. Its freaky.) ---Truer than how a tart's legs open like the back of a mac truck when you put a finger of gin in her. But on revising I'd say take out 80% of the "fucking"'s.
Espescially if you're not using them in front of a well-earned racial epithet.
when youre right......
oh hell fine. he's right.
amazing how this one's devolving. it gets more appalling by the comment. peeny wants to actually participate in sex tourism and the other red china commenter (wonder who THAT is) sucks equally from "truer" to "her." nice one, zip. glad i'll look like a child till i'm almost dead. yay sexual slavery and misogyny.
well, yeah the nunchuck to the groin would prob be a heathy start to fixing a fair share of my problems. a plan is a plan.
as far as the ambient background music, it doesnt make it alright, per se, to buy people, it just makes it easier and much more of a relaxed environment while you are buying people. mentioning it was merely a way to show how in additon to being whoremongers, they really were also running the showroom quite poorly.
Go to your local mazda dealership, and check it out. When you are making purchases that are important to you, whether it be a ford taurus or a human being with a soul and inner dignity that has been shackled to a wall in a living nightmare that you cant wake up out of.... ambiance is of the utmost value.
(and the hitting was really fucked up, thats all i have for that. it was totally fucked up. i could have dealt with not having to have seen the hitting. not that it would have turned the rest of the evening into a fun filled lighthearted romantic comedy, but it certainly was the last fucking thing i needed to see after a night of seeing pursuing and volunteering to enter some of the filthiest sex dens in bangkok. whatever, i was curious and i dont often think things through. its sure was exciting though. that shit was terrible and almost got me murdered. its just seeing something terrible and choosing to remember it in a funny way. i just wanted to defend this thing one last time before i put another story up thats twice as long and gets me damn well hated by my loved ones.)
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