The Newbie – Part Two

When we left our malibog duo in Part One last month, “Big Red” was prepping for his hot date later that night with his new best friend (his traditional massage girl from that afternoon). She was to get off work at midnight and meet him at the hotel shortly thereafter, but Big Red was sporting wood from seven o’clock onward. Hey, why wait until the last minute?

But more on that later, as your wholesome narrator also had places to go and people to do. So off I went into the night … to Soi Bangla, the main drag in Patong Beach for go-go bars and beer bars. After finding Christin’s closed that day (owing to it being a Buddhist holiday), your old Uncle Hannibal was looking to “take the edge off”.

So many choices … where shall I begin? It being a muggy night, I went off to find an air-conditioned go-go bar and ended up in a place called Playschool-a-Go-Go off on a small side-Soi. Having gone to an all-boys high school, I was just curious to see what girls in school uniforms look like.

The answer? Not too shabby!!!

I spent quite some time there nursing frosty beverages and checking out the talent until one thing led to another and I had a young lovely eagerly auditioning for the job of my “new best friend” for that night.

After a grope to the crotch region to rule out “Y” chromosomes (since Phuket has a reputation for too many lady-boys), commerce was done. I paid up the tab and headed back to the Holiday Inn with the newest Mrs. Hannibal in tow, ready for the honeymoon.

So far, so good … until we got back to the room and my new best friend refused to undress. Maybe she was just shy? Didn’t seem so in the bar, but who can figure out the way that women’s minds work?

Then she let it be known that only a BJ (while clothed) would be on offer. And that seemed a rather unusual twist (since shy girls are not known for volunteering a BJ).

But the deal-breaker was when I was asked to pay the full fee for an all-nighter (in advance). Everything I had read on the Internet about the Land of Smiles said that it’s “pay afterwards” and that requests to pay in advance are a scam-in-progress. And so I decided to follow a strict policy of “No honey, no money.”

I had seen enough, so I ushered the sweet young thing out to the hall and bid her a fond adieu. And apparently she was not all that thrilled about being shown the door, since she responded with a barrage of staccato Thai that probably didn’t mean “Have a nice day, handsome prince!”

Another strike-out for your old Uncle! Was this a katooey (lady-boy)? If so, he/she/it was post-op, since there had been no unsightly bulges “down there”. Possible, I suppose, although none of the other physical signs were there. But then again, there was the reluctance to uncover the goodies, and the insistence on doing only a BJ is a bit suspicious.

Or might it have been just another hardened bar-girl who somehow had miraculously pegged your clueless Uncle for a newbie and saw the chance to get paid for not working? Or maybe even just a bar-girl who had her period and was not above taking advantage of a nice old man?

That’s also possible … but what the heck did I know? I was a newbie and I had already come up empty twice that day. And so I applied my grandfather’s advice for dealing with slumps:

“When you’re in a hole, stop digging.”

I called it a night, hit the sack and was soon sawing logs. Tomorrow would be a new day … and it would not be a Buddhist holiday.


[The Next Day]

The next morning, I hopped out of bed and headed downstairs to meet Big Red for breakfast. And when I arrived at the restaurant, Big Red was already there and looking like a guy whose favorite dog has just run off with his wife (and he misses the dog terribly!).

In other words, he looked dejected and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that his long dry spell was still intact. That’s right, folks … his massage girl was a no-show. What were the chances of something like that happening?

So we decided to slow it down a bit, to hang out at the pool, to do a bit of sightseeing and basically play tourist for the day … and then go back out on beaver patrol that evening. And so that’s what we did.

We actually had a good time cavorting around Patong Beach that day. And come dinnertime, we decided to dine and then get an early start on the evening delights.

But with Big Red’s unblemished track record of striking out even when dating a sure thing, we decided to team up and sample the go-go-bars of Soi Bangla as a team (to hopefully improve his odds).

Truth be told, I figured he’d get paired off a couple of minutes after walking into the first bar. Testosterone levels at the 99th percentile, plus eight years of abstinence? It isn’t hard to do that math.

Ah, but it was not to be. We went into more than a dozen go-go bars, each teeming with Asian hotties vying to pleasure him carnally … and he couldn’t find even one girl to his liking!

[I eventually figured out that he was older than me and had grown up in the era where there were two types of women: saints and whores. So if a woman seemed even slightly forward, that proved beyond all doubt that she was not a “quality woman”. And of course, all of the bar-girls were being friendly toward him, so that disqualified them from consideration! Do you recall the old Groucho Marx quote on how he wouldn’t belong to a club that would accept him as a member (as that’d mean they had such low standards that they weren’t worthy of joining)? That would be Big Red, who was sexually attracted only to women who wouldn’t be caught dead with him. Unbelievable!]

After about fourteen bars and at least four hundred babes that I would have given Crumple’s left nut to bonk (but who did not measure up to Big Red’s lofty standards), I had seen enough. So I wished him good luck and took my leave to go solo for the rest of the evening.

I was heading off towards Christin’s, but it was a muggy evening and I decided to break the journey for a bit en route. So I stopped off at one of the beer bar complexes along the way and ordered up some liquid refreshment.

It was a fun bar, a dozen or so young lovelies there to keep a bloke company and they had the usual assortment of games on hand so that the girls could win lady-drinks from punters too drunk to see straight.

One involved hammering a nail into a stump, the point being that if you were drunk, you’d keep missing the nail (and the girl’s nail would get hammered in first). And then there was the old Connect Four” game where you try to get four plastic chips in a row in a matrix. And there was also that dice game where you flip over the numbers.

Didn’t take me long to figure out ways to cheat. When hammering the nail, for example, I’d turn the hammer sideways and hit the nail with the broad side of the hammer. And for “Connect Four”, I used the old “Halley’s Comet” trick (you say, “Hey look … it’s Halley’s Comet!” and when the girl turns away to look for it, you slip in a few extra of your color chips into the matrix).

And the odd part is that they seemed to enjoy catching me cheat more than they would have enjoyed me abiding by the rules (especially with me feigning innocence the way that professional wrestlers do when the ref catches them red-handed). It broke up the monotony for them and they regularly giggled out the Thai equivalent of “See how you are!”

Another guy who was sitting there also turned out to be a naughty boy and he started cheating as well (and hamming it up when caught). We got to chatting and it turned out that he was a newbie to Thailand and had just arrived from California.

[We got to be good friends and we hooked up for several more trips in the next several years, including to the Philippines a few times (where he picked up the moniker “Bastos Boy”, since Filipinas always seemed to be exclaiming “Bastos!” in his presence). So we’ll refer to him here as “B2” for short.]

Turned out that a couple of the young ladies working that evening at the beer bar came from rural Laos and they took a shine to B2 and me (or at least, they weren’t opposed to us buying them drinks, which I’m sure proves that they were quite smitten with us). Anyway, we flirted and partied with them for quite a while but I decided not to bar-fine my lap-puppet, as I had other plans for the balance of the evening.

And so, after an hour or two of levity and mirth, B2 and I made plans to meet up for lunch and a swim at noon the next day at his hotel, and then I headed out into the warm Phuket night to meet my destiny.

Will Big Red finally succeed in finding what he seeks (a girl who does NOT want to go with him)? Will the Christin’s experience be everything that your old Uncle Hannibal has imagined it to be? And might we be seeing more of those two girls from rural Laos? The answers to those questions and others will appear next month in “The Newbie (Part Three)

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