“Now you see Turner…you order them just like on a menu. Look over there, number 156. Ahhhhhhhhh….Now she is one tasty dish”.
Doug is 56. Australian. Single. Likes football, cricket and very young women. When Doug isn’t in the office or at his local Expat bar also filled with other Dougs, he is off roaming the sex playground of Bangkok’s seedy underbelly for “crumpets” and “tasty dishes”. Doug is what Expats refer to as a Sexpat.
An Expat (ex-patriot), incase you have not been to one of the world’s bastions of the dirtiest of old men, is one who relocates away from their motherland and immigrates abroad for any number of reasons. For some it is political disobedience (see: eluding the long arm of the law). For others, it is merely a matter of economics, as their pension, while meager in their home country, affords a great bump up in lifestyle if they move to a more affordable country. And for others, it is all about sex. Particularly with the very under-aged variety. Enter – the Sexpat.
As we walked down Patpong in Bangkok, one of the centers of all things sexual and deviant in Bangkok, Doug explained to me the nuances one must learn if he is to successfully Sexpat abroad.
“Now Turner, when you meet a girl here – and boy, I am telling you, you will meet them – you just need to hand them over a pair of nail clippers and let them go to work on your hands. These girls just know what to do. Hell, let them draw you a bath at the same time. You will see what I am talking about. Its in their genes to know what to do.”
It is almost a different language really. I wasn’t sure what to do with this information. But I just let things unfold naturally as we GoGo bar hopped and went deeper into the Sexpat scene which Thailand famously wields.
I came across Doug on a chance encounter. My friend works in his office and knew of Doug’s out of the office activities, as sometimes they would creep into Doug’s inside office activities. Things like a gentle, involuntarily moaning grunt of how hot the new administrator’s voice sounds on a 5 way conference call to London. “oooo you’ve got a lovely voice”. Or being asked to trade working Thursday for Friday and Saturday because it is birthday and he get’s two girls for one at Spankees. You know, the usual. So needless to say, I was intrigued at the thought of a night on the town with Doug. When abroad, a relatively young traveller (relative* as I am knocking on 30s doorstep and in dipshit backpacker years this is getting up there) doesn’t get to mingle with Doug’s very often. We see Dougs as we walk by some Expat sports bar (the Australian, Mulligans, Yankee Noodle etc.), but we only see Dougs from afar. Usually the Dougs are merrily drinking their imported pint of choice and socializing with other Dougs, some of which are bouncing young, barely clad local girls on their knees like children.
The funny thing about living in Asia is that while one could make the observation that all of the girls look alike after awhile, one could also make the same statement of about the Dougs looking alike after awhile. They all dress the same. It is as if there is a Sexpat department store where they all buy there same New Balance/Asics sneakers, jeans two sizes too big (or if hot, and it is always hot – shorts with high socks), polo shirt two sizes too big, belts with expandable notches and leather wallet from 1967 (usually from their first tour in Nam). I usually see Dougs that fit into one of three categories: very overweight Doug, very tall and lanky, nerdy Doug, and Don Juan Euro Doug. Overweight Doug I usually see cohorting with other Dougs in the aforementioned sports pub. Tall, lanky, awkward Doug I usually seeing scurrying around shopping malls buying his Thai girlfriend/escort things. Euro Don Juan Doug I usually see leading his very hot Thai girl to high-end bars. Euro Doug doesn’t wear the same uniform as the other two Dougs. His doesn’t consist of clothes two sizes too big for his body, but two sizes too small and missing two strategically located buttons that should definitely be buttoned on his shirt. Euro Doug, while not having weight issues, must have vision problems, as he is almost always wearing some form of glasses at night.
As we walked the lane of GoGo bars, girls with matching outfits came out to greet and entice us into their respective establishments. The first one had the cheapest beer prices listed outside and looked like a good starting point.
“No, no my dear boy. Never the first.” Reassured Doug.
The mark of a true Sexpat is patience. A young, inexperienced buck will grab at the first butterfly he finds, but a true master of sexual deviancy knows about trying out all the market has to offer before closing the deal.
We continued down to lane, battling alluring eyes and playful beckoning, finally choosing the fourth GoGo bar, as the girls seemed more charming and enthusiastic at our arrival (see: attractive). Just like any Sexpat worth his salt, GoGo bars are also masters of knowing the market and their audience, which is why they put their top girls outside as bait, luring in the catch of the day (us). Once inside you often can sometimes feel the bait and switch, with all of the girls instead not reflecting the same quality of look as the ones that were posted outside (see: swamp donkeys). However, our bar actually had pretty high quality control on the attractiveness of the employees, minus the fact that ¼ had braces and probably a curfew.
As I turned to ask Doug what he would like to drink, I was startled to find Doug already with a girl on his lap, and his hands gracefully placed down her shirt and in her pants. Doug doesn’t believe in wasting time. He is a man of action I thought. The bar maid came and Doug bought beers around, and an extra expensive beer for his new friend. For the next 15 minutes we watched Doug get to know his new lady friend while the other girls danced awkwardly on the stage.
“Ahhh look at all this crumpet. Turner, I think you would do alright with 153, and 164.”
“Thanks Doug. I am good, but I think we should get you a second.”
Meanwhile, back at Neverland Ranch, Dougs new friend continually made the gesture for Doug to go upstairs with her, and some type of rowing motion. Doug however, again patiently ignored her advances. And once again, showcasing his sexpating prowess with zen like patience in the process. Doug knew exactly how to play the field in the GoGo scene. He knew one drink had bought him the political capital (see: not getting your head kicked in by bouncers) to bounce his new friend on his lap and give her a TSA pat down.
I excused myself to go to the bathroom. As I began to use the urinal I felt little hands start to massage my shoulders. The male toilet attendant offered a very comprehensive washroom experience. I didn’t offer this service when I was a toilet attendant in Europe. As I said before, you can get a massage with just about everything in Thailand.
After my toilet rub down, I thought it was time to go.
“Okay” says Doug, “Just let me get this one’s number. I can tell she genuinely likes me.”
“Sure thing Doug”.
Doug then scooped up the girls number and explained that it is much more economical to get a girl for a week than at the bar. Wanting to get a variety of the nightlife scene. We decided to go to a ping-pong show. In case you have never heard of a ping-pong show before, it is basically a performance where women do all sorts of stunts on stage involving their vagina. From blowing out the candles of a birthday cake, to writing your name in a welcome to Thailand picture to firing darts across the room and popping balloons with nothing but the queefing power of their v-jay jay.
The ping-pong shows feel actually quite a bit seeder than the GoGo bars surprisingly. They lie about the drink prices, and the women do not resemble the GoGo girls whatsoever, as most look like they just came out of a botched abortion procedure. As the night ran down, so did our patience. I could only fend off so many advances of the trolls serving drinks and while I am sure my name etched by a vagina would impress my parents, I wasn’t in the buying mood. So we decided to depart Doug’s playground for the night.
As we were about to leave Patpong, Doug’s original gogo love connection miraculously appeared from the redlight mist. And then it happened in the blink of an eye: their eyes locked, lips moistened, eyes glazed over, as she and Doug magically came together in a gentle embrace, he grabbing her ass with a final, job well done wink to us in approval, and she grabbing his ass, cupping his wallet, with a job well done wink to us in approval.
It was a True Bangkok love story.
*If you work for the Walt Disney Company and wish to inquire about the movie rights for this true love tale, you can reach me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
**All names were changed to protect the innocent, but since there were no innocent, now you know what kind of a sick fuck any person named Doug really is.