Old Man on a Barstool
On a visit to Thailand several decades ago, I happened to be sitting at a go-go girl bar in Pattaya. Several decades before that, Pattaya had been a sleepy little fishing village south-east of Bangkok beside the Gulf of Siam. As the disastrous U.S. military involvement in Vietnam began to escalate during the 1960’s, Pattaya became a designated rest and recreation (R&R) station for American GIs on leave from the conflict. Prostitution, officially outlawed in Thailand, became so rampant that the war weary soldiers had little time for rest while devoting themselves to recreation or, more accurately, wreck-creation. When the U.S. withdrew from the conflict, the hallmarks of hedonism remained and prospered…massage parlors, short-time hotels, drug peddlers, sex shows, go-go girl bars and so on. And, so on to my visit…
Pussy Galore was an aptly named joint that featured a bevy of gyrating nubile and naked Thai females on a stage encircled by a bar of variously aged men ogling the action and fueling soon to be realized fantasies of carnal delights. On the barstool next to me was a 70-something year old man nursing a scotch & soda who appeared to be in the throes of some sort of private reverie. One of my patented inane conversational salvos got us to talking. Like me, Allen was from Chicago and was a die-hard Cub fan. Unlike me, he had been a career soldier…30-plus years in the Marine Corps. He’d spent two tours of duty in Vietnam, retired from the Corps, married a young Thai woman, sired a boy and a girl, settled in the hills of his wife’s home town of Loei and had been happily ensconced there for 15 years.
“So,” asked I, “why is a happily married family man hanging out in one of Pattaya’s notorious go-go girl bars?”
“The short answer is because it makes me feel good.”
“That’s probably the same answer every other guy in this joint would give. What would it take to get the long answer out of you?”
“Well…” he said, holding up a near empty glass.
“Another scotch and soda?”
“Another Black soda.”
“Ah, Johnny Walker Black. You got it.”
With the strobe lights flashing, the girls looked like figures from Picasso’s Cubist period…although, much prettier. In fact, much, much prettier.
His drink delivered and “Thanks” & “Cheers” and the rest of the blah, blah, blah bar banter being exchanged…
“So, the long version of why a happily married family man comes to a place like this?”
“Well, I agree that most guys come here because, like me, it makes them feel good. The difference is that I come because it makes me feel good about what I have. The others come feeling good about their prospects of finding something they don’t have. I have a wonderful wife who adores me almost as much as I adore her. Together we have two delightful children.”
“You think guys hang out in go-go girl bars expecting to find a wife with whom they can start a family?”
“Certainly not as a rule. However, there are pathetically self-delusional exceptions. From what I’ve heard, you’re a relative rookie. When you’ve been around these parts often enough you’ll realize that Pattaya is a merry-go-round of debauched enticements. Middle-aged Western men wash ashore here thinking they’ve died and gone to heaven. They drink beer for breakfast, have fried noodles and a sex massage for lunch, start on the Thai whiskey following an afternoon nap and end up in bed before midnight with one or two Thai girls. Next day the same routine begins again.”
“Something wrong with that? Thailand is a Buddhist country where the virtue of tolerance reigns…as long as the monarchy isn’t insulted.”
“True. No Thai is going to condemn a White guy for behaving like a raving hedonist. Many Thais depend on such behavior for their livelihood. The problem is that many of these guys wake up after six months wondering what’s next…and there is no ‘what’s next’. Sit at an outdoor bar in Pattaya and you’ll see legions of terminally depressed characters who first arrived here thinking they had died and gone to heaven only to realize that they’d ended up in hell.”
“Sex is a powerful inducement.”
“Indeed it is. It’s also highly overrated. I’m sure for a young buck like yourself it will seem odd to hear what I’m about to say to you.”
“Try me.”
Perhaps a couple more Black sodas first… on me.”
60’s rock music wafted on the airwaves. Love that music! As the adult beverages arrived and a new shift of lovelies took the stage, Allen began to speak.
“It’s been my experience that in most successful romantic relationships, sex is the first thing to decline. Whereas, in most failing relationships, sex is the last thing to go.”
“Oh?”
“Not to make this overly autobiographical but…”
“Well, with two children I think it’s fair to assume that you and your wife have had sex, at least, twice. I mean, the kids do bear some resemblance to you, right? ”
“Yes, in fact, more than twice and, yes, the kids do betray a certain distinct resemblance to me but...”
“…everybody has their cross to bear.”
“Very funny but, exactly correct. You were curious as to why a happily married family man would patronize a Pattaya sleaze joint. Incredulous as it may sound; my wife encourages me to do so…once a year for three days. She understands that these brief, bottom-dwelling sojourns invigorate my devotion to her and my appreciation for what a lucky man I am.”
“But, you consider sex to be overrated?”
“I do, because for the vast majority of Western men who come to Southeast Asia, sex is the only thing they have in a relationship. These characters are not handsome bon-vivants like Cary Grant. Many, if not most of them, have never enjoyed a genuine romance in the country of their origin. They’re lonesome men desperate for the two elements most integral for the benefit of a relationship with the opposite sex…or the same sex, as the case may be.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed a few Western women in the go-go girl bars of Thailand.”
“And, go-go boy bars, as well. What’s good for the gander is good for the goose, uh?”
“Agreed. But, what are the two elements they’re missing?”
“Intimacy and affection. Those are the foundation upon which my wife and I established our union. And, they continue to be the foundation upon which our relationship thrives. Casual sex with transient bar girls, lovely as they seem and lovely as many of them are, is like subsisting on a diet of bleached bread or rice. It has no nutritional value. All it does is sate an appetite by temporarily filling a void.”
Allen and I spoke for a while longer about less weighty issues. Mostly we bemoaned the sad state of affairs regarding our beloved Cubbies and wondered if either of us would live long enough to see them win a World Series. Round about ten o’clock he left to call his wife and we said “Good night” to each other.
And now, several decades later, I’m on a barstool in a Bangkok go-go girl bar. Been in the city for nearly a week tending to medical concerns. Otherwise, Phnom Penh is my home where I too am a family man. Like Allen, I have a wonderful wife who adores me almost as much as I adore her. She is my best friend. Together we have a delightful three year old daughter whose cross to bear is her resemblance to me…her physical resemblance. Fortunately, her character and personality are much more in line with my wife’s.
A few years following my encounter with Allen, I moved to Thailand and have remained in S.E Asia for the past quarter century. Despite understanding the wisdom of his remarks, it took many years before I began to live accordingly. When that ‘What’s next?’ question arose, I simply got out of the game but, that was only part of the answer. My wife was the real answer. And, of course, now our daughter. I have sequestered myself into a small enclave of intimacy and affection far removed from the world I had spent so many years dancing with the devil. I now wake up every morning next to a couple of angels. Lucky for me that life is unfair. My wife and daughter are the only sun and moon and stars that I need or want. They are my Truth; they are my Beauty. And, to echo Keats, that is all I know and all I need to know.
Sipping a Black soda as the lithe and lovely young girls prance upon the stage, I muse upon the joys of my little daughter. How boring! Her smiles & laughter, her outstretched arms when she needs consoling and her sweet embrace when I need it…watching her twirl around the room with mommy when one of her favorite song & dance programs is on Disney Junior…smelling her breath while she sleeps…when I turn on the TV and say, “Baseball” and she says, “No way”. Oh yeah, how boring what only a father can know. When she sits on the pot to shit which is so painful for her and she cries, “Help me, Daddy!” It breaks my heart…it breaks my heart mostly because, given my age, I realize that the day will come when I’ll no longer be around to help her.
Two young bucks entered the bar and sat next to me. They managed to order a couple of beers without taking their eyes off the stage show. One of them turned to me and said, “I mean, like wow, man. So many hot babes naked like right in front of us. Awesome, man! Don’t it like make you feel good being in a place like this?”
“You bet your life it does,” I said.
Then, I went back to the hotel, picked up my dumb phone and called to say “Good night” to my best friend.
