I’ve travelled to some rough-and-ready locations before, including backpacking around India, Morocco, and the Egyptian Black Desert, but my recent 24 hour layover in Bangkok, Thailand, was next level filth.
Forget the dirty chaos of Delhi or the steel cold grimness of a backwards Ukrainian city. Bangkok makes the slums of Bogota look like paradise. I’ve avoided going there for years, put off by the grotty sex tourism and hot humid climate. But on my way back from Japan the best ticket I could find offered a stop over in Bangkok (plus a brief change of planes in Istanbul).
I knew that many guys on pickup forums and blogs lived or travelled to cities like Bangkok, Manila and Jakarta, singing the praises of the titty bars and Tinder lays. My plan was to see if the Shangri-La tales were true when it came to daygame there.
I landed early morning and got a taxi into the centre where I’d booked an apartment for one night. The city was shrouded in a blanket of hot grey smog and the roads clogged up with manic traffic. It reminded me of Hong Kong or Cairo just without the attractive sights.
I was staying near Siam Square One, the biggest mall in the city and ground zero for daygame. It was too hot to be outside for long. The pavements were a circus of fat old western men in shorts, socks and flip flops getting hustled by bar ladyboys and weathered hookers. Street vendors pedalled every variety of dead-animal-on-a-stick, their rickety carts dodging the moped taxis and swarms of pissed tourists. Squalid.
The giant mall was an air conditioned refuge from the madness outside. I stumbled about looking scruffy and tired after the 7 hour flight from Japan. My first couple of approaches were awful, with the Thai girls being as confused as I felt. “This is silly,” I thought to myself. “Go back to the apartment, have a shower, sleep and just go sight seeing.”
Stacking material – “Say What You See”
As I headed to the exit I saw a slender girl wearing a long red dress and matching shoes coming out of H&M. My senses picked up and I opened without delay, telling her she was cute and that she reminded me of the dancing girl from the opening sequence of Indiana Jones and the Temple Of Doom (children of the 80’s will know what I mean). She had no idea what I was on about, but seemed impressed by the approach. Her English was good, better than the Thai girls, as she was Vietnamese and just visiting Bangkok for a few days on a cookery course.
The bounce for a coffee was easy as she’d just arrived like me. We sat opposite each other sipping our lattes and she told me more about her life in Saigon. She was 26, single and her course was starting the following day. Her apartment was in the centre and she also planned to do some exploring like me. I moved to sit next to her so I could run the usual photo routine and spike things up with a bit of kino. She seemed shy but had a rebellious vibe about her which I liked.
It was still only 11am and I knew there was no need to rush things so I came up with the plan of going to get my camera from the apartment with her, see how compliant she was and then go to visit some temples with her before seducing her in the evening after a bit of a bar crawl. After all, I wanted to see the city and an Adventure Bubble together would just make the lay easier.
We grabbed a taxi back to my place and she came in with no hesitation. After looking around, using the bathroom and getting the camera we got in another taxi to head to the Old City. The traffic was hardly moving and the taxi driver kept throwing up his hands and laughing (the smiling nature of Thai people in the face of such filth is remarkable). “Same same!” he giggled over and over, the only English he new, in between jabbering away in Thai.
On the map on his phone he was trying to explain that with the traffic jam it was take us over an hour to get to the Grand Palace, but that he could take us down to the river from where we could catch a ten minute boat to the Old City. Was this a scam to sell us a boat trip from his cousin? Where exactly were we going? Fuck it, we said ok and he happily drove us down to the river. “Same same!” he beamed as we paid and said goodbye.
Miss Saigon was afraid of the ancient rickety looking wooden boat, telling me she couldn’t swim. Just like my old London Clipper hustle of taking girls down the Thames on a bamboozling adventure, this boat trip worked in my favour. A tiny man helped us into the boat which we had all to ourselves, and off we went up the choppy river. The waves were taller than the boat sides so he had to zig-zag his course. Miss Saigon held onto me with my arm around her, both afraid and excited. A perfect spiking of emotions. I pulled her in and kissed her briefly.
Outside the Grand Palace we disembarked and found ourselves in a huge crowd of tourists and pilgrims, jostling to get in a long queue into the temple grounds. It was utter chaos with thousands of people (mostly Chinese tourists) pushing their way forwards in the 32°C midday heat and 100% humidity. We were drenched in sweat and the crowd was claustrophobic.
Luckily the queue moved quickly and we were in the temple grounds within half an hour. It was just as packed inside and I could see that Miss Saigon’s energy and enthusiasm was draining away. “Let me just take some pictures and we’ll get out of here” I said, opening my small shoulder bag to get my camera out.
Immediately I spotted the open zip of the front pocket. A huge sinking feeling overwhelmed me as I realised my slender card wallet (with credit and debit card inside) was missing. For eight years I’ve carried that thin wallet in my jeans pocket, day in day out, all over the world with no issues. But in the mad scramble of taking Miss Saigon to my apartment and getting my things, I’d dropped it into the front pocket without thinking.
The oldest hustle in the book. At some point in the packed crowd I’d been pickpocketed. It was totally my fault. At least the camera was still there, my phone was in my pocket and my passport was safely hidden back in my apartment. Coincidently Miss Saigon had snapped a photo of me at the exact moment I realised the wallet was gone…
I’d gotten some cash out that morning when I landed but it was only worth about £20. I knew straight away that that was going to have to last me the day and get me back to the airport in the morning. The main priority was to phone my bank and cancel the cards. Neither Miss Saigon or myself had a working international SIM so I said we should go back to mine where I could make a Skype phone call from my laptop.
We jumped in another cab and realised that her place was much closer to where we were than mine, so told the driver to head there to save time. Miss Saigon said she had an international phone card I could use. What an excuse to bounce a girl back to her place! The new trademarked Torero technique: get robbed and have to “phone the bank” seeding trick.
Within half an hour we were at hers, both sweaty from the temple of doom adventure. The cool air-conditioned apartment was luxurious, she obviously came from a rich family and her parents were paying for her cookery school getaway. She handed me a towel and said I could have a shower before her, as she’d take longer. I rinsed off the filth of the city with a hot shower and then emerged just in my boxers and the towel over my shoulders, as she went into the bathroom to take her shower.
I called the bank with her SIM card and cancelled the cards. No withdrawals other than mine had taken place that day thank god. Miss Saigon emerged from the bathroom in what looked like silk pyjamas and we curled up on the sofa, drained of energy after the whirlwind morning. It was still early, around 2pm. “Let’s have a siesta,” I said, “Then we’ll go to my area and eat something.”
I picked her up in my arms (she was so petite) and carried her into the bedroom. Under the duvet we hugged and kissed some more. I was waiting for the Token LMR to start and indeed it did, right on cue. I’m not so easy. I don’t know you. I’m not experienced. It is so crazy. I don’t want you to judge me. I’m not that kind of girl. Any experienced daygamer will have heard this dozens, if not hundreds, of times.
There was no rush. I took things slow. On and off. Hot and cold. Kissing and then pretend sleeping. Letting her re-engage. Putting her hand down my boxers and then going back to just hugging. Touching between her legs and then rolling over to “sleep” more. This seduction dance went on for almost an hour until she couldn’t keep up the Good Girl charade any longer and let me pull off her pyjamas to go inside her. The sex was passionate and rapid after all the horny buildup. Neither of us lasted long and we sank into real sleep soon after.
That evening we headed to my area to experience the chaotic evening vibes of street venders, hookers and fat tourists in Chang vests, arm in arm with ladyboys. She bought some fruit to make sure I wouldn’t starve until I got to the airport, we went for some drinks and then parted ways at the metro stop as she had to prepare for her classes in the morning and I needed to sort my finances.
A totally filthy adventure in a city I’m never going back to. Despite the magical Same Day Lay experience with Miss Saigon I feel like I need to have multiple showers to cleanse myself of the squalor of Bangkok.