Boys, Boys, Boys

Just a short walk from my hotel lies Soi Duangthawee, the short street crammed full of sex clubs and show bars for boys. Curiosity got the best of my and I decided to check it out. I met a guy of about 60 in the lobby of my hotel and he highly recommended the water show. I didn’t require any further convincing and at the appropriate time, I went exploring.

I walked into the bar advertising the water show and quickly realized it was almost deserted. That meant that all the guys onstage in their underwear were focused pretty much on me. I may be 41, but I brought down the average age of the clientele by at least half. No joke. For the three or four customers sitting watching, there where ten or fifteen guys onstage and slowly rotating around, each of them with a number pinned to their underwear. While they are onstage, the pushy manager keeps asking which boy you like and why you don’t take that one or that one. How about him over there? I had absolutely no intention of hiring a boy for a long list of reasons, but was curious as to how it all worked. If you see something you like, you give the manager the number and he motions the boy over. At that point, you buy a drink for the boy at a price triple to drinks anywhere else in the city and see if you like to get to know him better. If yes, then you pay the manager and the boy goes to your hotel with you. Asking price? 1300 Bat (about thirty dollars).

Just when I was about to get out of my seat and leave, the water show started. It was kicked of with a group dancers holding candles, the main one clad in a gold and sequined Speedo who pours melted wax all over his oiled body. One they leave the stage, the curtain is pulled back to reveal a small glass swimming pool where a solitary guy in a basic Speedo does his Esther Williams-esque swim routine which was synchronized to “My Heart Will Go On”, a song that appears to be stalking me all over the globe.. That was enough for me, I was out of there like a shot.

I decided I had seen enough and started back toward my hotel, but before I could get to the end of Soi Duangthawee, I decided to go check out a different bar, which was a bit busier. And suddenly I knew I was definitely not in Kansas anymore. There were two naked guys wrestling onstage and suddenly one starts banging the other, and if that wasn’t enough, the show soon became acrobatic with the guys doing it while hanging from bars, against poles, upside down and any other way you can imagine. But then came the part that really stunned me. They started making their way around the bar, greeting and shaking hands while they were in the middle of the act. I tried to change my DNA and turn invisible, but no such luck and soon they were right in front of me, hands outstretched, saying “Hello, you cute, where from?” I declined shaking hands with them as politely as one can do in such a situation and I could feel my ears turning red from embarrassment. It was just after that that a little muscle guy in a Speedo came and sat next to me. His proximity and the fact I said hello to him obligated me to buy him a drink. That was fine, I wanted to see how it all worked. Up to a point, that is.

Of course, they manager walks over and asks if I want the guy all night. I reply in the negative and another boy, this one dressed like a customer, comes over and sits next to me. It was only after he ordered a drink it dawned on me he was a money boy as well. Then they both wanted to come to my hotel and so I quickly paid the bill and left.

Alone.