The Book is Finally Published!

[Nemisis]

Chapter 11 €“ Deportation & the Reporter

Three years into owning the Mick O'Mouse, I must have chalked up 16 visa runs, to Georgetown, Penang, or Singapore, and most of the time spending a few nights with GG's or LB's in ether place. Walking up the street in Georgetown, the GG's/LB's, use to call out from across the road by my first name, that's how popular I was with them. But as far as the Thai immigration laws was concerned, being married to a Thai didn't give me any extra privileges, or we just didn't try hard enough, on that subject of getting a permanent residence visa. I still wasn't able to do any work in the public eye, and cooking in the kitchen was fine, as it was away from prying eyes.

We had another Coup, but didn't know about it until I read it in the newspaper the next day, then I noticed all the cops were taken off the streets and sent home, replaced with the army doing their jobs, like directing traffic. A Thai businessman was made temporary Prime minister, until things got sorted out. He didn't want the job, and wanted to take care of his own business, but I reckoned he was the best. Police were all changed and replaced again.

But one night, after the dinner rush was over and almost midnight, I had only a couple sitting there for the night having a chat with me. The wife and staff decided to watch the ladyboy cabaret show in the Malabu which was only a few doors up the street. And as the couple ordered another drink, and as I was the only one there, I served them myself.

Boy was that a mistake, as there were seven undercover tourist police doted around the street watching me, and as soon as I went behind the bar to serve the couple, bang! They all pounced on me. Sitting there handcuffed, the wife must have noticed the commotion outside the bar, came running in with the staff, "Pity you bitches weren't here to do you fucking jobs, and maybe this wouldn't have happened." Boy was I pissed off, and I just rented out a couple of good movies to watch later that evening.

They took me to the immigration police office in Soi 10 for processing. The wife and I sat with the chief there, and we all had a friendly chat. He wanted to know everything about us both, and at the end of it all he said, "Paul I like you, and I think you both are a great couple, and I would like to set you free...but I have seven of my men's signature on these arrest forms, and to set you free, would be going against my own men...but I want to help you. So after you get deported, and come back, as I will not make any non gratis stamp in your passport. When you come back and see me, I will give you a permanent visa, then you can do what you like in your own bar."

The immigration police in Soi 10, those days weren't so corrupt and had no jail, so then they handed me over to the local police in Soi 9 as they did have the jail, and when you have the jail, then let the corruption begin, as you would pay anything to get out of that place. And as they were all new faces, they didn't know about the previous suspicions about me. So that was no help.

Now when they locked you up, you would have to go through this Iron bar gate on the second floor, where the cages were. Passing through that gate, on the left there was two small separate cages, these were for the murderers, but they were in such a bad state (floor rotting away) they could not be used, so they put the killers in with the rest of the prisoners. On the right was a cage 4 meters by 5 meters, and in one corner was a small 1 meter by 1 meter wall, hiding a squat toilet, which had no water as Pattaya was in the middle of a drought. So after somebody had a shit, the next guy had to poke it through the hole with a stick, to make room for his shit. It was fucking filthy, and the stink was unbearable, and this cage was for the farangs/non Thais, to which there was 27 of us.

Pass these cages, the small corridor split right and left, which faced two larger cages, on the left was the cage for the females, and on the right was the cage for the Thai males, I can't remember how many was in there, but it looked just as crowded as ours. As I was in twice before, I knew enough to slip the guard 50 baht to sleep in the little corridor, and he told me to stay away out of view, as any cops passing by could see through the first gate, and see the center of the room of cages, so I slept on the fingerprint table just outside the cage for the females. I remembered I only had a half pack of cigarettes, and told the wife to get me more thinking she would bring them the next day.

So I'm sitting there having a smoke and adjusting to my new surroundings, just outside the female cage, which was dark and had no light, and then came a voice from the depths of the shadows, "Hello! Can you give me one cigarette?"

"Who's there?" "Only me!" and out creped a superstar Ladyboy from the shadows. So I gave her a cigarette, and we both had a whispered chat so as not to disturb the other guests. She was locked up with the females, and as I had never saw this LB before, I found out she was not on the P4P scene, and had a farang sponsor, and was living in their condo in Jomtien. She was in there already four days, waiting for her court case to come up. She was horny as hell, and as we chatted she put her hand through the bars, and started to rub and squeeze my boner, eventually asking me to stand up against the bars, so I could poke my cock through the bars, and then she could get it into her mouth. Then after 20 minutes of that, she turned and slipped down her shorts, bent over and pushed her ass against the bars, letting my cock slip into her ass hole. Its times like these, you wish you had a bigger cock in'nit?

So I'm banging away there, and all I could here was a whisper from the Farang cage, "You lucky, lucky bastard," I was glancing round expecting to see some old guy with long grey hair and beard, in a robe, chained to the wall upside down (Life of Brian). And then some fucker in the male Thai cage copped on to what was going on and started to rattle on the bars to draw the guard's attention.

Through the first gate you could just about see me banging away, and the next thing I know is the rattle of the key opening the first gate, and my name being called out. I quickly stopped what I was doing and zipped up, and went to the gate, and standing there was the wife with a couple of packs of cigarettes, and a couple of other knickknacks. I really don't know how I wasn't caught, but thank fuck she didn't, as I needed her to get things sorted on the outside, and if she caught me, I would have been left there to rot.

I guess the next day the Thai's complained about the night before because they locked me up with the rest of the 27 which were mostly Arabs and Indians, and I was the only white face there, and then walked in Mr. Church, which I had a drink with a couple of times, over a year before. We all thought he was back in England, as nobody had seen him for over a year. He told me he was doing business (not bar related), and took on a Thai partner, who scammed him and got him locked up, so he was able to take over the whole business, and for the past year they had been shifting him from prison to prison, as they where looking 200,000 baht from him to set him free, which he refused to pay.

27 of us in a cage 4meters by 5meters, with a shit hole in the corner, was badly cramped, and at night we would all have to sleep in a rolled up sitting position, as there was no room to lay flat, and if you stood up to stretch, you lost your place, as they would all be shuffling to get more room. After hearing what Church went through the past year, I soon came to the conclusion that my situation wasn't so bad after all, and spent most of my time telling Irish jokes, to cheer Church up, which I had him in tears laughing all the 2 weeks I was there.

The wife asked me what I wanted to eat, I told her Irish stew as anything else would be difficult to eat in that cramped hole. And I made sure she brought the same for Church, as he had nobody on the outside to look after him, and after a year of Thai prison food, that the Thai's wouldn't eat, he was in his element for a change, "Thank fuck I bumped into you Paul," as he scoffed down a large bowl of Irish stew.

The wife managed to convince the police chief we were broke, and got the corruption money down to 30,000 baht, and once that was paid, I was then allowed to go to Chonburi court to stand before the judge, in my made to measure shackles, with the rest of the chain gang on the back of a pickup truck. This is where I was going to pay the proper official fine for the law that I broke, which was €˜Working without a work permit.' And do you know what? The real fine was only 120 baht.

Then was driven back and locked up again, until I was processed back to the immigration police where it all started, for deportation. This took another day making a total of 14 days, the next day my shackles were removed, so Church and I knew I was out of there. "Paul I'm sorry to see you go... I'm gonna miss the jokes and the stew...but I'm glad you're out of this shit hole." "Don't worry Church, you haven't seen the last of me boy."

As I was released from the jail, an immigration policeman met me on the out side with my file in his hand, and we both walked around to their offices in Soi 10, and now I was thinking I will have to pay these guys also. But not a penny was asked from me, and as the next step was deportation, I figured it was handcuffs and put on a plane.

But these cops were all right, as they explained if they deported me personally they would have to pay for the airfare, which they couldn't afford. So they asked me if I would be so kind as to deport myself, and how long would I need to arrange it. I told them two weeks, and as what ever visa I had in my passport was canceled, they gave me a new stamp for two weeks.

And as promised by the police chief there, I was given a note and instructions to get a particular visa, so as to make thing easer to process the permanent residence on my return. Then I simply took a stroll back to my bar. I relaxed the next few days arranging my travel plans, which I went by train to Penang. And visited Church everyday before I went, with plenty of food, and asking him some info on his Thai partner, so I could ponder over how to help him, while I was in Penang. Nobody bothered me the rest of the time, and my deportation was more like a normal visa run. But before I left I give strict instructions to the staff to look after Church while I was away. This is only half the story...the bad half!

The Reporter

After the visa run, I returned to Pattaya, Church was still being fed and looked after, by my staff. I then sent up the wife's two uncles up country to convince Church's Thai partner to drop the charges. Her two uncles were a force to be reckoned with, they were wanted by the police, and on the run. But just happened to be working in Mini Siam 10 minutes away, which was full of misfits on the run.

The younger uncle did things like, blow up his neighbors for playing the radio too loud in the evenings, but that's not what he was on the run for. The older uncle, although on the run, was calmer and kept his younger brother at bay. And sending these two up, I knew I would get a result one way or another. But in the mean time Church was transferred back to Chonburi prison.

Within the first week back at the bar, my permanent residence was being processed, which was going to take a month, but I was told I could do what I liked, they were not going to bother me anymore, as it was being processed, I more or less got it. Then in walked John Smith (his real name), an Irish and well respected journalist, who worked for Reuters, The Irish Independent, among other things. He wanted to know all about my experience with the jail and deportation saga, and at first I was reluctant to tell him anything, telling him I would be a dead man if he wrote anything about it.

But he assured me he wouldn't, and was just curious to how things worked around here. I trusted and told him about the saga, and he kept his word and never mentioned anything about it. He told me he had to go to Bangkok to interview the new prime minister, then he was off to Cambodia to write a piece on there, and would call back in a couple of weeks. I told him it was my birthday in a couple of weeks, and I was throwing a party, so he promised to be back for that.

A week or so later, I got a nice surprise when €˜lord and behold' Church walked in one sunny afternoon a free man. In tears he gave me a big hug, and thanked me for all the help. "You don't have to thank me Church... You have to thank the wife's uncles!" "Where are they?" "I can get them here in ten minutes." So I sent for them, and Church greeted them with a strong handshake, and opened a bottle of whiskey, to celebrate his release, and at the same time gave them each a nice big wad of cash in gratitude. He tried to settle up with me with cash, but I wasn't having none of it, explaining, it was him that got me through the two weeks I was there, otherwise I might have cracked up.

Now just a day or so later, I got two very strange visitors, which asked to see me. These were two very hard faced older Thai gentlemen, dressed in suits, shirt and tie. They never smiled, and asked me question after question for two hours. They asked me a lot of personal stuff like; how did I feel about Thailand; did I want to settle here for the rest of my life; how long was I married etc. etc. I answered every question truthfully, but trying to figure out who these men were, and where they were from, by analyzing their questions. They must have been satisfied with all my answers, because at the end of the two hour, they both smiled for the first time, and one of them said smiling, "One last question Paul. Do you have any military experience?" That rattled me, but I simply smiled back and answered, "Yes a little bit!" As I figured they already knew all about me, before they came. But they never asked anything about the deportation, and just as they were leaving, I asked them who were they and where they were from. I just got a simple answer, "We are from Bangkok, and work for the government."

They seemed to be very satisfied when they left to go back to Bangkok, and a few hours later I was startled by the sound of cars screeching brakes, in front of my bar. Oh! Another surprise, it's only that corrupted fucker the chief of police, in his big fancy Mercedes Benz, while a police Sergeant was earning 3,000 baht a month.

He rolled down his window and called me over to him, so I walked over to his car window, followed by my wife. He seemed to be rattled and in a panic, "Paul what's going on, what's going on?" "What cha mean? What's up with you?" He was beating his fists on the steering wheel ranting, and I could see something had frightened this man a great deal. I was still figuring out about my visitors earlier, when he said, "Paul I got two visitors this morning. They walked right in and asked for your file." "So what?" "Well I destroyed the file for you...and told them I didn't have any file on you...I did it for you Paul."

The wife and I still kept our mouths shut, trying to put it all together, but this shit about destroying my file was not for my benefit, it was for his, no file, no arrest, no evidence of corruption fees. Who ever these two guys were, they were big enough to frighten the shit out of this police chief, and I thought I would take this opportunity to use the situation to my own advantage.

"Why didn't you show them my file? Its no problem for me these guys are friends of mine...I had a long chat with them this afternoon" "Ah! Emmm, did you talk about me?" "No! Not yet anyway." (Now who is doing who a favor?) Then I started talking down at him with confidence, trying to convince him I had some sort of power, "Keep your nose clean, and don't give me anymore problems...and you will be Ok." "Ah! Emmm, yes, yes, right Paul."

Then the wife copped on to what I was doing, and also joined in on the revenge, "Its Paul's birthday this weekend. Are you going to come?" "Oh! Yes, yes I come" "Don't forget to bring him a birthday present, eh!" "No, no I not forget!" "No you better not forget...and make sure it's 30,000 baht worth." Of course he didn't like that but what could he do, the shoe was on the other foot now, and he drove off.

30 minutes later he came back, and handed me 30,000 baht, €˜We're clear now Paul, we're clear now, right, right?" I told him maybe, and then he drove off again. I guess he had a minute to think about chumming around with me was a bit too dangerous for him, as I would get to know more about him, and it was best to stay clear of me. So I'm sitting there with 30,000 baht in my hand, still trying to figure out what just happened, retracing the past events between the monkey house, the deportation, the strange visitors, and the frightened police chief, knowing well there was a missing element to all this.

This annoyed me for a couple of days until one afternoon I was sitting outside the bar, when I spotted John Smith walking towards me, then the penny dropped. Before he got sitting down I said, "What the fuck have you done John?" He burst out laughing, "Why what happened?" So I told him what went down and said, "I told you not to say anything." "I didn't...when I met the Prime Minister, he was worried about what I was going to write about Pattaya, and asked me €˜how was Pattaya', I just told him, fine...but there's a young Irish guy up there, getting a hard time...that's all! Then the PM, called two blokes over, whispered something to them, and they took off... then he said to me, we have to keep relations between our two countries at the best possible level."

John also told me, when he went to Cambodia to do a piece on there, the PM wouldn't let him go without protection, and flew him in on an Thai Air Force helicopter, with a group of Thai marines, to make sure nothing happened to him. John reckoned it was just a political ploy, to make sure he didn't write anything nasty about Thailand.

Later I found out that we had a 2000 word center page spread in the Irish Sunday Independent, with a photo of the wife and I, with the bar in the background with a headline, "I have feasted at the table of kings." Plus a paragraph on prostitution and how thin the condoms are in Thailand. The Irish then started to flock in to the bar saying, "You're Paul...and you're Tukta," to the wife, and seemed to know all about us, even though we never met them before.

Now the power I had over the police chief was used on a regular basis. For example; A young Irish customer of mine liked his motorcycles, and one night had a bad accident, badly breaking one of his legs. I got wind of it the next day, that he was in hospital but there was a problem. I went to see what was going on, and in disgust saw him lying on a trolley in the corridor, in extreme pain, with bones sticking out of his skin. They said they couldn't treat him as there was no evidence that he could pay for his treatment.
I went nuts, and what ever money I had in my pocket, I gave them to give him some morphine right away for the pain, while I jumped down their throats, for not treating him. I told them to carry on treating him and I would contact his father, to send the money over. Which I did, but alas the bank takes 4 weeks to clear. The next thing I know he's laying in the monkey house with his leg in plaster, because the fuckers in the hospital, got impatient for the money. And now the usual corruption fee was added on top of that.

So I went on the war path, put my sun glasses on and jumped on my little Honda, parked it outside the police station, and casually walked in feeling like Clint Eastwood. Went to the desk sergeant, and asked. "Have you got such n' such in here?" "Oh! Emmm, yes!" "Get him out right now!" He would first run into the chief's office, and then quickly run up stairs to the jail, and the next thing there would be two policemen carrying him down the stairs. I told them to help him back to his hotel. Then I shouted out as loud as I could, "There will be no corruption here! Understand?" All the heads would go down saying, "Kho jai khrap.... Kho jai khrap!" (We understand... we understand). This happened from time to time, with friends or customers having problems with the police, and I enjoyed every minute of helping out, as it was pay-back for me.

[Nemisis]

Sorry, forgot to edit in the photos

Chapter 09: The Angel, Letter Writer & Witch

[Nemisis]

Chapter 10: Mick O'Mouse & the Monkey house

[Nemisis]

Chapter 11: Deportation & the Reporter

[Nemisis]

Chapter 12 - Bar Life, yarns, & the Military

The Marines

When the fleet comes in, any bar owner would be lucky when the marines designate their bar, as the €˜Marine Bar.'  This means if your bar was selected for this, all marines on the carrier who went to shore, would have to use only your bar for meet ups, first port of call, hanging out, etc. etc.  This means your bar would be always full, 24 hours a day, for the period the fleet was in.  This happened a few times to me, as they look for a bar that resembles anything that has got to do with the Irish.  It was hard work and I didn't sleep for four days, and when they left, we just rolled down the shutters and slept for 24 hours.

At one time the USS Nimitz came with 80 marines on board.  The highest ranked of them was from Boston, and his father had one of the oldest Irish bars there, right across the road of the F.B.I building, which they all hung out in, for lunch, or a drink in the evening.  I was talking to his father, when I got hooked up with him on the bridge of the Nimitz, while getting a private tour of the ship, on which his father gave me an open invitation to stay at his home in Boston.

A few weeks later a young Dublin lad, came in and seem depressed, "What's up with you boy?"  "Ahk, I just immigrated to the States, and could only get a job as a cop in Queens N.Y.  And I fucking hate it."  "Well what did you want to do there?"  "I really wanted to join the F.B.I., but they wouldn't have me."  "Well this is your lucky day."

I wrote him out a letter, saying he was a mate of mine, and they should help him as best they could, and give him the name and address of the bar in Boston, and told him to call in on the way back.  Six weeks later I get a letter from the lad, thanking me, and that he just finished his training, and was now an F.B.I agent.

The odd time I got the admiral in, one in particular was €˜Bull Dog' of the €˜Midway.'  He would come in eat and them unpack a chessboard and sit all night drinking and playing with another officer.  It was a bit shit though, as the bar would quickly empty, and those squids that was just about to step into the bar, caught sight of him sitting there, they would do a U-turn, nice and quiet like.  Nobody wanted to fuck up in front of him, as he had a bit of a reputation.  But I didn't mind ether way, if the bar was full of squids the regulars stayed away, and if the bar was full of regulars the squids stayed away, they both didn't mix well, and when the admiral was there it kept the squids away, and attracted the regulars in.  But the Marines acted like well behaved gentlemen, calling the regulars €˜Sir.'  They did mix very well with the regulars.  


1DERR (The Duke of Edinburgh Royal Regiment)

Another unique thing happened to me one low season, when a couple came in one day.  They were from the 1DERR, stationed in Hong Kong.  They were telling me that they liked the bar as I was not shoving pussy down everybody's throats as soon as they walked in.  They liked my place as a laid back bar to chill out and get away from it all, and on their return they would recommend me to some of the other couples and families that were thinking of taking a holiday soon to Thailand.  I said thanks very much, not thinking too much about it.

The next thing I know, the whole regiment booked a holiday in Pattaya, one half on one month, the other half the following month.  And guess where their head quarters were...  Yep!  My bar.  A lot of them had children, so I converted the two large guest rooms on the third floor into a nursery, and hired two old ladies to take care of the kids, while the parents could relax more in the bar.  Then invented children's meals, to feed their kids, threw a party for the first half, and then threw a party for the second half, and for the two months they were there I made a fortune.

My bar was always full, while the whole street was empty, and I knew there was a need for a place for good food, a place to chill out, and a place to take your girlfriend or wife be it Thai or western.  Eventually I got rid of the bar in Soi 2 as this bar was a real handful, and hard work.


Cobra Gold

Many may know the Cobra Gold exercise happens every year, and now it lasts for two weeks, but in those days it lasted almost a month.  One particular year I couldn't get any of them through the door, in fact none of them ventured up the street.  I knew all I needed was a couple of them in early to eat, then word would get around in the camp, as the rations were shit, then I'd be doing good business the rest of the month they were here.

Two weeks past and not one came in, but then one night two did come in and had a meal, and I thought, €˜right, word will start to get round now, and I will expect more in tomorrow night.'  But the next night the same two guys came in, had a meal and a couple of drinks, but no others from the cobra gold.  The following night again the same two guys came in to eat and no one else.

So I'm thinking I got to get to the bottom of this.  After they finished their meal, I got them a drink and sat with them, to have a chat, "Food Ok lads?"  "The food's brilliant man"  "Have you told anybody about it?"  "Oh no! We're keeping this place to ourselves, it's a secret just between us"  "What?  Are you guys trying to ruin me...17 days with 3,000 troops in and all I got is you two guys, with only 13 days to go...  I'll be bankrupt before you guys go back to the states"  "Oh shit sorry!  We never thought of it that way.  Right we're gonna sort it out."

So the next night the two of them came in with another two, and five minutes later another four came in.  So I thought I would do the Basil Fawlty on them, and take the orders myself.  "Right lads what are you having?"  The first guy ordered a dinner, then the second guy said, "I'll have the same"  "No your not!  You should try such n' such, it's just out of the oven!"  The third guy said, "Right I'll have that also"  "No, no, no!  You should have this dinner here...its made with bla, bla, bla."  The four of them were looking at me with amazement, and didn't know how to take me, until the forth guy just smiled and said, "So what am I having then?" and we all cracked up laughing, saying, "What's the use in you printing a menu Paul, when you're gonna tell us what we're eating anyway?"

"Well if I let you guys order four of the same meals, you would have nothing to compare it with...but if you all have four different dinners, it gives you a chance to see what the other dinners look like, and you might taste a little from the mates dinner beside you.  Then it gives you a better idea what to order tomorrow night."  "Shit! Never thought of it that way...  It seems sensible, Ok carry on Paul."

The guys were over the moon with the food saying, "Mines great!  Here!  Try a bit of that...what's yours like?  I'm going to have that tomorrow night."  And sure enough my cunning plan worked, as the next night the eight of them came plus 30 more, and the following night was 60 of them, and from then to the remaining 13 days were over, the numbers were doubling every night.

The night before they all had to go back to the States, a few of them said they were coming for a last meal on the way to the airport (Utipao €“ Pattaya airport), and I must start the dinners early, some where around noon.

So we started in the morning preparing the dinners for the whole day, the street was quiet, all the bars opened but empty.  The next thing I know, a couple of coaches pulled up at the end of the street, on the Second road, full of troops in combats with their kit bags.  They formed ranks at the top of the street, and marched down to my bar with their kit bags on their shoulders, halted outside the bar, and a captain gave them orders to fall out.

They made a wall outside with their kit bags, that looked like a sand bag position, and all piled in.  There was no ordering any particular meal; they just ate what was going.  All the tables were full with them eating, the bar was full with them eating, they were standing in the bar eating, the chairs outside were full, they even sat on the kit bags, and sidewalk eating.  A lot of them had to wait on plates, and I was running to the market all the while to get more supplies.

This went on for 3 hours, and at the end of it all fell back into ranks, did some kind of ceremonial thing, and presented me with the cobra gold shield, that should have been presented to the Thai marines that did the exercise with them.  Then they marched back up to the coaches, waiting at the end of the street.  We had to close for a couple of hours to get the food ready for the evening's customers.  And I will never forget the looks on the other bar owners and their staff's faces; they just couldn't get their heads around what just happened.          

Chatting to all these customers, of course I would be telling them yarns about every day life in Pattaya, as it was all part of the PR.  The stories were true, and just simply my observations of what was going on around me, and I would rattle them off one by one, just to keep the punters happy and buying drink.

Horny or Hungry

When the girls got no business in the bars they worked in, they would head up to the marine bar, which was nicknamed €˜The Chicken Ranch,' on Walking street, to see if they could score a last minute punter.  Now two girls straight from the village were giving the eye to two punters sitting at the next bar.  The two punters decided to call them over and buy them a drink, and then told them they were going to take them back to their hotel, where they both stayed.

One girl said to the other, "How will we meet up tomorrow morning?"  So the other girl took out a Thai/English Dictionary, and pointed out the word €˜hungry,' "About 9am tomorrow you tell him this word...and the four of us will meet up in the coffee shop for breakfast Ok!"  So the other practiced the word €˜hungry' until it was time to go.

Back in the room, they showered and he fucked her for about an hour, then around 4am he rolled over and fucked her again, and in the morning fucked her again for good measure.  He then got up and took a shower, and while he was doing that she got the book out and started to practice the word again.  He came out of the shower and said to her, "Right what you want to do now?"  "I horny!"  "What was that?"  "I horny!"

Now he's thinking to himself, €˜Fuck she's really into me...a right nympho.  This might be a keeper.'  So he jumps her again.  Now she is lying there legs open getting fucked thinking, €˜What the fuck is wrong with this man?  Is he ever going to stop fucking so we can get something to eat?'  It's now 9.30am, he finishes up and hit the shower again, came out and said, "Right NOW what you want to do?"  "I horny!"  "What?"  "Ieeeee horneeeeeey!" she said in a slower, louder voice.

Now he's thinking, he's not satisfying her enough, or he is not doing enough, so embarrassed, and to save face, he jumps her again, this was now 10am.  She getting fucked for the fifth time was thinking, €˜this man's a fucking nut case.  Get me outta here.'  Now the guy is running on empty, tired and getting a bit sore.

It's now 11am and he hit the shower hopefully for the last time, then came out, "Now listen, we have to go out to get something to eat"  "Yes, yes ...I horny!"

This went on until 12 noon, when the maid was cleaning the rooms, and when she came to his room she could here what sounded like a big fight, and pass keyed the door opened.  And as the door opened wide, she saw the guy in one corner of the room, and the girl in the opposite corner, shouting abuse at each other.  The girl was crying and angry, screaming, "I horny!" and him shouting, "Look I can't fuck you anymore...I have no power...tell her I cannot fuck her anymore, please!"

The maid could speak English, and translated their errors, as the word horny was next to the word hungry in that book, and the girl made the mistake in picking the wrong word, and when they both realized what they had done, they cuddled, she wiped the tears away, and they both started to laugh about it.  But by this time breakfast was over.


Second Time Around

One Tuesday morning, I was putting the tables and chairs out side the front of my bar, when I happened to see the black coroner's wagon parked outside a guest house down the street a bit.  So nosy old me though I'd take a stroll down to see what had happened.  I stood outside watching the volunteers taking a body out to the wagon in a white sheet, and nudged one of them, "What happened here then?"  "Ah! Old English man 65 years old.  He dies fucking."  "Oh man! That's the only way to go...isn't it?"  The volunteer laughed in agreement.

Wednesday was uneventful, but Thursday morning while doing the same routine, I spotted the black coroner's wagon parked out side the hotel across the second road, facing my street.  So as usual strolled over to see what happened.  The body was taken out in a white sheet, and enquired from one of the volunteers what happened, "Ah!  Old German man, 67 years old, he dies fucking."  Well I had to laugh.

But standing right beside me was a girl standing with her hands on her hips, breathing heavily with rage, and looked like there was steam coming from her ears.  So I nudged her, "What's up with you Sweetie?" "Shit, shit, shit!  That's the second time this week"  "Second time, for what?"  "Second time I fuck man...  He die...  No pay me for fuck in morning!"

So later that evening, a bunch of young Irish regulars came in to eat, and I told the whole story, "Fuck sake Paul!  What was her name?  What bar does she work at?"  "I don't know I didn't ask... Why?"  "Well if she can kill two old fellas with her pussy she must be a hell of a ride!"  They were all dying to shag this girl.

The Wizard

One evening the wife and I were invited to a party at a German friend and his wife's bar on the Naklua road.  An hour or so into the party in walked a little German fellow, and my German mate the owner said, "Just a minute Paul, I got to set this man up with a fresh girl."  So I asked him later what he meant, fresh girl.  He told me that this little guy was one of his best customers, comes two times a year for a month, always stays in the same hotel across the road, and as soon as he has his bags unpacked, he is straight over here, and asks me to select for him a girl.  She has to be nice and clean...and straight from the village.

He's always afraid of getting VD, etc. and a very sweet guy, looks after them well and keeps them for the whole month.  He told me that since he was coming, he got his wife to get a girl for him, from a village up north, the day before.  He pointed the girl out, and looked about 17, plainly dressed in a t-shirt and shorts.

So we partied on, and were invited for breakfast the next day.  We were all sitting outside his bar having breakfast, around noon the next day, when in came the little German fellow, with the little 17 year old girl tagging along side him carrying a shit load of shopping bags.  Her eyes seemed to be popping out and mouth opened, dying to tell us something.

She came over to us sitting there and said, "I'm going to marry this man!"  The wife said, "You what?"  "Yes, Yes, I marry this man...  He's a magician."  "He's a what?"  "He's a wizard... I see with my own eyes...  I cannot get better husband than this man."  She was jumping up and down in excitement, and we were all looking at each other, wondering what the fuck she was on about.  

So the wife interrogated her more, "He's a wizard?  What makes you think that?"  "Believe me pee! (term of respect used for older, respected people)  I see with my own eyes!  He can change any paper into money."  "He can change what?  What are you talking about you silly girl?"  "We got shopping this morning...he have no money...so he stop at window...he put in paper...and take out too much money!  A wizard I sure...I lucky too much...I want marry him."

Well we all fell about laughing, and she looked at us as if to say, you people don't understand anything.  Then the wife took her to the side, and explained to her, what a bank was, and what a traveler's cheque was.  The poor girl must have come from a very remote village in the jungle, as she had never seen either before.

[Nemisis]

Photos above

1&2 The marines
3 1DERR

Photos here;
1DERR
Cobra Gold
German & wife

[johnnydiver]

Incredable read! I have spent my afternoon reading every word Paul. I don't know if you still have the bar in Pattaya but if so I am going to look it up in May when I get there.

[Nemisis]

(johnnydiver @ Mar. 08 2010,05:23) Incredable read!  I have spent my afternoon reading every word Paul.  I don't know if you still have the bar in Pattaya but if so I am going to look it up in May when I get there.    

Cheers Johnny,
No, I haven't got a bar any more, but you'll find out what happened to it

[Nemisis]

Chapter 13 €“ The Bishop & the Hero

Before I come to the last story of the 80's, first let me introduce two characters and close friends, as they are relevant to the story, on the next chapter (Chapter14: The Ghost & the Monk)

Arch Bishop Haddad

During the time of the Mick O'Mouse, I became very good friends with Edmond Haddad, as he liked to be known when he was in Pattaya. He was half Palestinian, half French and a Vatican Arch Bishop, stationed in the Vatican embassy in Bangkok, as a political analyzer. Fluent in 14 languages in both reading and writing, and his job was to read daily newspapers from all around that part of the world and analyze the politics in them in order to send a report to Rome.

Some where in the Middle East or Africa, he spent seven years in a hole in the ground, because of his religious belief, and when he was released, the pope promoted him to Bishop. He was sent to the Philippines for a few years until he got a girl pregnant, which caused a whole scandal, and was recalled back to Rome, demoted, and locked up in the Vatican prison on bread and water, for penance. After he was released, he bounced back up through the ranks, to Arch Bishop. It's my guess he did it through wheeling and dealing, and couldn't have been his devotion for the church, because he had none.

A very wealthy man, and secretly had a couple of jewelry factories and three jewelry shops in Bangkok on the side, and among other things, he did the jewelry for the top fashion show in Paris. But as it was forbidden to have any wealth like that, as it must be handed over to the church. He had them put in his sister's name. He used his position globe trotting around the world two or three times a year, wheeling and dealing for his own benefit.

Sometimes when he made a real killing on a deal he would set a little bit to the side and come up to Pattaya and hand a lot of cash personally to father Brennan who looked after the orphanage, otherwise if the church got their hands on the money, father Brennan would never see it. Mind you coming up to Pattaya to hand some money to Brennan was only an excuse to have fun with all the local bar girls, and boy did he like his sex. He was a little short, fat guy, looked like a football with legs.

He would always stay across the street at Ches Gilbert's, a very large ex-foreign legionnaire with a bar and guesthouse. A real rip off merchant, and Edmond never trusted him but they were old friends for many years. He would always say that I was like a brother to him, one of the few men he could really trust.

There were times when I saw him bringing with him a few old guys, and they would be sitting at Gilbert's, all with a girl on each knee, feeling them up and shoving their tongues down the girls' throats. Edmond would slip away, and come over to me, "Paul you see them four old men sitting there?" "Yes Edmond!" "They are four very high Arch Bishops from the Vatican, and I am bringing them over for a meal. Give them your very best and most expensive... They are paying."

The funny thing was, right next door to Gilbert's was a French restaurant, and the old French owner did all the cooking himself. The problem was, in between cooking the meals, he had a bad habit of standing out in the street in front of his restaurant, picking his nose, and sticking his finger up his ass hole, giving it a good old poke, his customers watched this while they ate, then going back in to cook the next meal. Needless to say he wasn't doing so well business wise, and the French preferred to come across the road to eat in my place.

I would see Edmond taking a girl back to his room, and then five minutes later, she would be running down the street, with Edmond shouting abuse after her. Then come across to me all pissed off, "What's up with you Edmond?" "Bloody fucking bitch! She won't give me a blow job! I gave her a gold necklace too...the bitch." He used to give the wife jewelry when he came, but the wife threw it away, when I asked her why, she replied it made her skin go green. The wife pulled him about it, and he would laugh, and tell her the next time he would give her the real jewelry.

Some nights he would slip into a company of lads that would be gathered in my bar, the usual conversations with the usual bad language. Then I would introduce him to my other friends, "This is my good friend, Arch Bishop Hadad of the Vatican." And response from one of them would be, "Holy shit! Fucking Hell! Ho! Sorry father for my bad language." "Fuck off, you ass hole...no need to apologize...and don't call me fucking father." With all the languages that man spoke he liked to use the worst one, and left everyone shocked and stunned. But then that was his cue to take over the conversation, which he was a bit of a comic, and had everyone in stitches.

He came to me one day and asked, "Paul, can you do me a big favor?" "Sure Edmond... Name it." He told me him and a group of multi-millionaires were building a five star hotel in Saigon, Vietnam, and that he was the main shareholder. It was to be completed in the next year, and is looking for staff. So we sat down to a serious discussion.

"This hotel we are building, I need you to go and work for me, you can pick any job you want, I just need someone I can trust there to take care of my interests, as I won't have time to do it myself." "I can have any job I choose?" "Yes of course you can and you will be paid generously, just pick a job you think you can do." "In that case I want the manager's job!" (Watching his reaction.) "OK!" He said without a flinch. "But I must send you to 'Hotel Management School,' in Switzerland. It's the best school in the world of that...and if you think you cannot do that job, just select another management position. You will have to go to Switzerland... I will pay for it all."

"You just can't select the director's position, as that is filled!" As soon as he said that I got more curious and inquired, "So who's the director then...the Pope?" "No Paul this is serious, and I am going to tell you something, nobody knows, not even my sister!" And then he ordered another cup of tea.

"Paul this goes no further than you or I will be in big trouble. Not even your wife must know this!" Well boy am I privileged, I proudly thought. "About 18 years ago I secretly adopted two Vietnamese baby sisters, during the war...and sent them to a couple in France to look after and educate, which I pay for every month. You know being a man of the church, it's forbidden to do something like that...but as I have only my sister...who is old and has no children...and as I am in the same position ...we have no one to carry on the family name, and that's the reason for it"

"They are very intelligent...and I sent them to only the best schools and they are now in the same school in Switzerland I was telling you about earlier. I just need some one I can trust to look after them when I send them back to run the hotel." I was a bit stunned but not surprised, knowing Edmond the way I do. I just said nothing and stared at him, and as I didn't answer him right away, he went on, "Please Paul, there is no one else I can trust, just name you price and position; after all you're the one who is doing me the favor and not the other way around!"

"Let me think about it Edmond, and I got to speak to my wife about it also!" I answered, "You can take you wife with you if you want," added Edmond. But he seemed to be a bit reluctant about it though, and I had a feeling he didn't trust her. So we left it at that for the time being.

Paul O'Kennedy

Paul was from Dublin, but based in Thailand, with a Thai wife, house, swimming pool, the works. He was a tall skinny man, with slightly balding black hair, in his mid 40's. He was a pen pusher, and shook hands like wet lettuce, but he had balls of brass.

He worked mostly in the Middle East, and was some sort of manager in administration. During the time I had the Mick O'Mouse, he was working in Kuwait of five years, well that was until Saddam took the place over, and he was caught up in the siege.

During the Iraqi siege of Kuwait, he organized an underground movement, that raided food warehouses that the Iraqis didn't know about and distributed food at night to people locked up in their homes, and sheltering vulnerable rape victims.

Saddam didn't want to piss off too many countries, so the citizens of neutral countries were able to fly out, including the Irish, leaving mostly British and Americans. Paul refused to leave, and wanted to help as many of those as possible who were held as hostages. He organized runners to go all the way up to Baghdad, to the Irish embassy to get temporary passports for them, so they were able to leave Kuwait. He did this several times himself.

Long story short, the American's gave him a medal, and the Kuwaiti Royal family gave him a nice big reward. Because of his bravery and ability, and the Kuwaiti princes gave him quite a high position and a shit load of money. I guess they thought it better to have a man like Paul close by, incase it ever happened again.

Paul in turn offered me a very good management job with a shit load of money, thinking he wouldn't like to go through it alone again, and it was best to have me by his side. This second job offer was around the time of Edmonds job offer, and now I got the problem of choosing.

[Nemisis]

Chapter 14 - The Ghost & the Monk

Now let's recall, when I first took the building, for the Mick O'Mouse, remember I mentioned there had been 5-6 previous owners that only lasted the maximum of three months, and mostly lay empty. Well originally I put it down to stupidity or not working hard enough at the business, but this was not the case.

During the refurbishment, I found a lot of junk in the drawers of the bar, and going through it all I found this little bronze Buddha, which was no bigger than my thumb, and was a little statue of a boy. I remember thinking it was cute and put it up on the mirrored shelves for the spirit bottles, leaving a little gap for it, and then thought nothing more about it.

The layout of the bar was; the ground floor, the bar and kitchen; the 1st floor had three bedrooms, this was for the staff of six girls, two to each room, rent free; the 2nd floor had two large rooms, to be rented out for guests, or when family came to visit; and the top apartment for the wife and I, which had a little garden.

In the garden there was a spirit house, and above it was a bee hive. I was just about to get rid of the bee hive when the wife said no, as when bees make their home in your home it is very lucky. I remember telling her it didn't bring much luck for the 5-6 previous owners, did it. So I just left them there, and never got bothered with them all the years I was there.

My routine was; what ever food was left over we would all eat, nothing was left over, then everything was freshly cooked the following day. I would make a dinner for myself with the left over food, and take it up to the apartment to eat, while watching a video, usually around 2-3am, while the wife took a shower, then crawled into bed, to watch the movie.

Two months into this routine, one night as I just closed the room door, sat on the bed one meter away from the door, clicked on a video, and just began to eat. When suddenly there was a loud thump at the door, it was so strong the door was vibrating. Thinking it was burglars I quickly put down my dinner got my 9mm automatic pistol from under the pillow, while my wife jumped out of bed, ran to a safe corner of the room and stood in fright. As in those days Thai burglars didn't like to leave any witnesses behind. I would run out to the garden, up on the roof, and then search all the floors, expecting to run into someone, but there was nothing.

This thumping went on every night, and I was actually sitting waiting for it with my pistol. It had me running all over the building, and I was so fast, it was impossible for anyone to thump the door, without me catching them. Eventually I took the door apart, thinking it was some kind of animal trapped inside between the door panels, but still there was nothing.

This went on for two weeks until I just wasn't bothered with it anymore, but my wife could not sleep at all. I tried to reassure her that it was all right, and for some reason I told her its probably just a ghost, not knowing her well enough, that frightened her even more. (So much for the witch, that's afraid of ghosts.)

So I sat her down and gave her some yarns, all about Ireland, which was full of ghosts, and there was so many of them you could trip over them, jokingly telling her, "When you walk in Ireland you must be careful you don't step on one." I explained also, that the Irish talk to them all the time, and was quit normal to do so, especially when their drunk. Well I had to do something otherwise she was leaving.

A new routine started then, video, dinner, and thumping. And all I would do is ignore it and shout "Go away I'm eating" or "Leave me alone, I am watching this movie!" And sure enough it would stop. I could see the wife's expression on her face, calming down as this went on. She would say to me days later "You Irish do have a connection with ghosts!" And I would answer "Yep! It's quite normal!" And she would give me a reassuring smile.

But I can't say that for the ghost, it stopped thumping for a few nights, until shortly after at 4am as we were in a deep sound sleep after making hot passionate love, (back to the usual routine again) this ghost smashed everything that could be smashed, mirrors, sink, toilet, glasses in our adjoining bathroom suit.

Again we thought it was burglars, but the only way into the bathroom was to climb over our sleeping bodies as there was no window in the bathroom. That was more frightening than before, and the next morning I got some Thai builders in and replaced everything, back to good working order. Well that didn't make any difference as the following morning at the same time at 4am it happened again, all the new items that I had replaced had been smashed again.

At breakfast my wife and I had a discussion on what we were going to do with situation, I told her, "We got a fucking poltergeist...and this is going to cost us a lot of money in replacing items the ghost destroys... So I think we'll just lock our bathroom, and not use it. We'll use the guest's bathroom on the 2nd floor. And just ignore the fucker. It's not going to get the better of me." But the wife wanted to get the monks from the local temple, to perform exorcism. Well in the end I won the argument because of the staff staying in the building. Explaining to her, if the staff find out, they would be too frightened to stay or work in the place.

I guessed the ghost was a bit pissed off at being ignored and it was trying to make a statement by destroying the bathroom. And as we just locked our bathroom door and used the one on the guest's floor under, it kind of realized there was no way, it was going to get to us. So the thumping and smashing stopped. And one night after I took a shower on the 2nd floor, I was just coming out of the bathroom, when I caught a glimpse, in the corner of my eye, a small luminous grayish blue figure, darting in behind a wall in the dark shadows of the corridor. I stopped to watch the spot for a moment, and the little figure, peeped out from behind the wall, which turned out to be a little boy, resembling the little bronze Buddha that was down in the bar. He just stood there peeping from behind the wall, staring at me with a cheeky smile on his face.

I remember thinking, €˜So you're the little fucker that's giving me all this trouble.' The sight of him didn't worry me at all, in fact I was relieved it was just a little boy ghost, and only up to some mischief. So I looked at him and said, "Sawasdee deh puchai...bie nhon see! (Hello young boy... go to sleep now!)" And simply turned and climbed the stairs to our apartment. The wife asked, "Who were you talking to down there?" "Oh, no one... I'm talking to myself." That was the only time I saw him. But later I had to tell her about the incident, which also calmed her, realizing it was just a boy ghost.

For a couple of weeks we were sleeping soundly, and I was confident enough to fix up our bathroom again, and sure enough there was no more smashing the place, and no more problems with the ghost. I was beginning to think he had taken off some where, out of shear boredom. The wife and I even went to Renée, who had the lease of the building, and city hall, to find out if there was a murder committed in the building several years before, or was the building on sacred ground or something. But nobody could tell us anything. But funny enough, the owners of the building, reduced the rent for some reason, when we made our enquiries.

Now while the wife and I were sleeping soundly, we started to notice the staff having meetings in the mornings about what was happening to them the night before. As my wife and I would appear in the morning we seemed to be interrupting these meetings, and the staff would quickly end their discussion, and carry on with their chores.

Then one morning my wife asked, "What's going on here?" The staff would answer, "Oh nothing, nothing, everything is fine!" So the wife and I started to put two and two together and said, "Ah you have problems with the ghost!" The staff went into shock and said, "You know about it too?" My wife answered in a reassuring voice, "Of coarse we do, we have had problems with it for a month now!" And she told the staff the trouble we had with him.

One of the staff called Lek answered, "But we don't have any problems with him, he's a good ghost!" My wife curiously inquired, "Him?" Lek quickly answered, "Yes he's just a little boy about 12 years old, and just wants someone to play with... He's just a bit weird and naughty that's all." The wife gave me a smile to confirm my encounter with him.

It seemed as the wife and I were sleeping soundly, our little ghost was messing about with the staff on the 1st floor. And one day something really weird happened, as Lek shared a room with Gop, it looked like the little ghost took a shine to Lek, as Gop came to me that morning and said, "Boss I scare a little bit last night!" "Why Gop? What's up?" "I wake up because Lek...She talk to wall...she talk with ghost. I hear she say, if ghost give good luck for she today, she buy him present. I sapeak with she morning...but she not remember."

That afternoon a European guy walked in with a package, this guy was never in my bar before, and I have never met him prior to this. "Is some one called Lek here? "Yes that's me." "Here! This is for you!" Then handed her a package, and gave a sigh of relief, as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Lek opened the package, and took out a beautiful made to measure evening dress, which he got made that morning at a dressmaker. How he knew her measurements, we will never know but the dress fitted like a glove.

So I asked him why did he do this, the then said, "I don't know! Last night I was sleeping in my hotel room up in Soi 2 when I had this weird dream. I have been walking about all morning like a zombie doing all this. I took a baht bus straight to a dress maker...that I have never done in my life before. Somehow I knew her name and measurements. I waited until it was made, and paid 4,000 baht for it, then came straight here and now that I handed it over it seems my head is back to its same old self. Do you have any idea why I did this?"

So I told him about the ghost and he said, "You know what! I was thinking that...something was pushing me all the way ... but if I said anything, you might think I was crazy." So I told Lek to take good care of the dress as it was very expensive (almost three months salary) and the guy and I had a few beers sitting outside, while I comically told him my experience with the little shit, and we both had a good laugh about it. Well, what the hell, the ghost just got Lek a new dress, and me a new customer.

Just then an old Thai man was pulling a cart up the street, loaded with 10 baht plastic toys, and stopped outside the bar. "Lek!" "Yes boss!" "Don't forget your promise!" She saw the old man, ran out and bought a little plastic car, and came back in and placed the toy by the little Buddha on the shelf, saying to the rest of the staff, "You see, you see! I told you!"

The next thing I know, as the weeks went by, there was a whole pile of toys placed around the little Buddha. The bar started to look like a nursery, and we had to get a special Buddha shelf on the wall to place, him and his toys, respectfully out of the way.

I kind of got the feeling late at night, just before I turned off the lights of the bar. I would look back into the dark bar, and imagine him on his hands and knees, going brume, brume, with one of his toy cars.

So there we were all living in harmony, the wife, myself, the staff, and our little ghost. I guess it was because we acknowledged the fact of his existence, and treated him as one of the family; he behaved himself, and didn't bother anyone from then on. Well! Not until 1989.

The business was booming, with good PR and a great menu, and a friendly ghost that wanted us to stay. I kind of figured that's what had happened to the 5-6 previous owners, if he behaved in the way he did with us in the beginning, I could see why they all left in a hurry after three months. And as sure as hell the owners of the building knew all about it, otherwise they wouldn't have reduced the rent. (Or maybe our little ghost made them do it.) And for a few years later we simply forgot the fact we had a ghost, but just another young member in the family.

Now and again we would have guests renting out the two spare rooms on the 2nd floor. That was until around 1989, when an old customer walked in. It was Mick from Liverpool with his Thai wife and her younger sister. He seemed to be in despair, and with a shaking hand shook mine. I noticed the glare of nervous tears beginning to form in his eyes, and with a sobbing voice said, "Paul I'm in big trouble!" I said "Ahk Mick! What ever it is we can sort it out, have a seat and calm down," while calling one of the staff to serve them a drink.

He went on to explain that they just arrived that morning from England. And to save a little money, they took an unregistered taxi for the three hour journey to Pattaya. Now anyone who travels to Thailand regularly, would know better than to do that in those days, as they were nicked named gypsy taxi's and you would never reach your destination. You would be driven to an ambush, where two or three of the driver's friends would be waiting by the side of a lonely road, fully armed and take everything you have and just leave you there, in the middle of nowhere.

So his story became quite normal, as soon as he mentioned the gypsy taxi, I knew what was coming next. They drove for one and a half hours, and asked the driver to stop for a break, as they had to use the toilets of a gas station. While they were in the toilet, the driver just simply drove away with their entire luggage, including passports, traveler's checks, and credit cards...the lot!

He managed to get them the rest of the way by bus, with the few hundred baht cash he had left in his pocket. Well I calmed him down and told him not to worry, they could stay here with us, they won't go hungry, and they can have a few drinks in the evening. I told him to relax take his time, get things sorted out like new passports, cancel the credit cards etc. Why let it spoil their holiday, and he could repay me the next time he came to Thailand, as long as he didn't take another fucking gypsy taxi. And so they moved in quite relieved, and appreciated all our help. Mick and his wife in one room, and the younger sister of his wife, in the other room, on the 2nd floor.

Three days later one of the staff informed me that the younger sister came running down from her room, out through the restaurant, and all the way to the bus station screaming. Well I never give it a second thought, and put it down to a family dispute. Later I noticed Mick and his wife going out for their evening stroll on the beach, with a strange look on their faces as they left. I was busy with customers at the time, but remember thinking it did look weird. After the evening dinner rush, things calmed down around 10pm as usual, so my wife and I could sit out side the restaurant with a few drinks and a laugh, with some friends.

It was a warm quite night, and we all had a bit of crack sitting outside, when the wife inquired had anyone seen Mick and his wife, we were hoping they didn't feel embarrassed, for having a drink with us. They had been gone for hours, and they had no money to go anywhere else. Then a few minutes later they came walking up the street, came in and Mick sat down beside me. I quickly ordered a drink for them before they could change their minds. I then explained to him "Mick! Don't be embarrassed to have what ever you want... When ever you want... Just make your selves at home... Shit happens you know."

But I noticed Mick had a grayish expression on his face, nervous watery eyes and sat there all tensed up. And with a stammering voice muttered, "Paul I don't know how to say this...you'll probably think I'm crazy!" And I thought, now what has happened to them and said, "Come on then! Spit it out!" So he went on and quietly said, "Paul do you know you got a ghost in here?" As we had a few of our friends, sitting around us, you could hear a pin drop. I just burst out laughing and I said out loud, "Oh! You've met our ghost then! What has the little shit been up to now?"

Everyone just stopped their conversations and turned to Mick as his face turned red, and all asked, "Ghost! What about a ghost? Tell us what is happening Mick." I thought great this will be the entertainment for the evening. I hurriedly pushed Mick further, "Come on Mick...tell everyone what has happened." One of my friends ordered, "Give Mick and his missus another drink there. It looks like the poor bastard needs it!" We were all full of laughter, and I remember thinking this is going to be an all-nighter.

Mick calmed down a bit and began by saying, "Well you know my wife's younger sister? She happens to be a 22 year old virgin!" Surprisingly I said, "What! A virgin? She must be the only 22 year old virgin in Thailand." One of the friends added, "She must be the only 22 year old virgin any where in this world ha ha ha." "Look!" Mick protested, "This is some serious shit going on here, you want to hear it or not?" "Sorry Mick.... go ahead mate," we all replied.

So Mick continued, "Well as you all know the three of us have been staying here, for three nights now .... Until my wife's younger sister had enough of your bloody ghost, and ran out this morning in hysterics, and one of your staff helped her with the bus fare to her village and is now home safely." So I asked, "What the hell happened to her then?"

Mick went on, "The first night she was soundly sleeping on her side and felt a heavy weight bearing down on her hip. It was enough to wake her up, and as she slowly moved her eyes in the direction of the pressure, she saw a little grey boy sitting on her hip with his elbows on his knees looking down on her smiling as he watched her sleep. She screamed and he quickly jumped up and ran through the wall into our bed room."

And one of the others said, "Bloody hell Mick! Any wonder she ran off like that!" I stepped in and said, "Ha sure he only a little mischievous ghost, who likes to play around just like young boys do!" Trying to reassure Mick it was safe to stay, as he had no other place to go.

"Playing around!" Mick added, "Wait till you hear the rest!" One of the other friends sitting there shouted "Give that man another drink there, this is getting interesting!" And I was thinking this is great I'll take a bit of extra money in tonight. Mick went further, and said," The second night she was laying on her back and woke up to find the ghost, sitting on her stomach squeezing her tits. The third night she was afraid to sleep and the ghost stayed invisible, grabbed her by the foot and pulled her off the bed on to the floor with great force!"

At this stage everyone was dumbfounded and all ears ready for the rest of this gripping tale. At that stage I remember thinking, what a little shit, he's really messing around to much, and how was I going to rent the rooms out with this going on. But as more and more drinks were consumed, we all started to see the funny side of it. Mick smiled and said "Each night she screamed the ghost would panic and run through the wall in to our bed room. My wife ends up talking to it in a scolding manner, and then she would go next door to calm her sister down. Cause she's into all that."

"Yes that's right!" his wife joined in, "I and two other ladies in my village are the only ones who can see and speak with ghosts!" Took another sip of her drink and said, "The ghost told me he liked my sister very much, because she was a virgin, and I told him he was very bad and to stop worrying my sister!" Just then Mick said with a laugh, "Yep! There am I standing in the corner of the room, shitting myself, with the screaming next door...and my wife standing talking to the wall, waving her finger. I was thinking what kind of a bloody family I got married into!" We all cracked up laughing.

Well as everything was out in the open, we all just got on with it. Mick and his wife stayed for about a month until all his papers and new passport was in order. They called in the following year and paid us back what they owed. He was still cracking on about, "How's my buddy the ghost getting on, did he get laid yet?" And I would say, "Don't ask me ask your wife's sister ha ha ha." Mick said he'll never forget it, he's always telling his mates in the pub back in Liverpool that story, but they don't believe him.

So everything is going good, but the bar was getting a bit small and haunted. The wife was burning 9 sticks of incense, for the ghost at the spirit house we had on our roof garden at around 3am, after we closed for the evening.

The wife had a sister who was a fashion model, with a boyfriend which was a male fashion model. They both were in the circles of entertainers and Thai movie stars. The boyfriend had a best friend which was a movie star, and they both took it into their heads, that they would do their Buddhist monk hood together. As in Thai tradition, it was good to devote part of your life, in the study of Buddhism as a monk, with no time limit.

These two guys had busy schedules, so they could only afford to be ordained as monks for only a month. So it came the time that the wife and I were invited with the rest of the families to go to one of the temples on the outskirts of Bangkok, for the ceremony of their ordination. A car was sent to pick us up in Pattaya, around 3am, as we had to get to the temple by sun up.

We reach the temple around 6:30am, and there was a crowd already there, when the wife and I strolled into the temple grounds. We walked about to find the wife's family, and we were spotted by her mother who came running to meet us with a big surprised look on her face, "Look! Look! Tukta is in the temple She's in the temple!" The rest of the family gathered round asking her, "Are you Ok? Are you sick?" This is the first time I was told about the wife's birth, and not being able to enter temple grounds. But wait a minute. She is inside now, and nobody could understand why.

Any how, we witnessed the usual ceremony of shaving the hair, being carried around the temple three times in chairs, then finished off inside the temple, where it would be the last time we would see the two of them for a month. Then all the families would sit and have a feast.

Now unfortunately I had a bit of an attitude about the monks at that time, as whenever I came across monks in the morning, going around with their begging bowls, and thought to my self, €˜why don't you get a real job and work for your meals?' I was so skeptical about these monks, and never bothered about the full picture, and that was my attitude standing there in that temple that day.

At this temple at that time there was a famous monk visiting there, who was regarded as in the level of a Buddha, an enlightened one. He was able to give advice, and tell the future, and the people were all lined up, to hear his words of wisdom, from the troubled questions they would ask. The wife and her mother asked me to wait while they ask him why my wife was able to enter the temple after all this time. And after 20 minutes they both came back, and gave me a weird look, "So what did the monk say?" "He told me that I am inside the temple because of you!" "Me? What's it got to do with me?" "The monk said that because you are my husband and you walked inside with me...you are my balance...you keep my demons away."

Now I thought what a load of bollocks, and as the two job offers from Edmond and Paul were troubling me, I thought I would give him a shot, but try to trick him, and then we will all see how good he really is. "Where is this monk?" "He is sitting around the corner." "Right now I will speak with the monk." So I went alone, so he didn't know who I was with, and took my turn in the line, until I sat with him, to ask my trick question.

Now this monk knows absolutely nothing about me, and for all he knew I could have just flown in from London or New York, just for this ceremony, as a few white faces were there and did exactly that. I could have been just another one of them. And to trick him, I was giving nothing away, and asked him only this question; "I have a choice of two jobs. Which one should I take?" (The only words I spoke)

He closed his eyes, and played with a string of prayer beads he had in his hand, then opened them and said, "Don't take the job in Vietnam!" Then closed his eyes again, and then opened them again and said, "In fact! Don't take the job in Kuwait either!" Then he closed his eyes again. Now he had all my attention.

He opened his eyes again and said, "Anyway! Why do you want to leave Thailand? Your restaurant in Pattaya is good and you have a ghost there who is trying to help you. Where is your wife? I want to speak with her." So I called the wife over, and she knelt at his feet. "Ah! It's you again. You are burning 9 sticks of incense, at 3am, right?" "Yes" "Well this is wrong...you must burn 21 sticks, at 3pm afternoon. The ghost has connected to your husband and not you. You have bad spirits and your ghost cannot connect to you. Your husband does not know the way of the Buddha yet, sp you will have to do it for him."

Then he spoke privately to the wife as I walked away dumbfounded by all of this and later I asked her what did he tell her, and she said with a smile, "He told me I will never keep a husband" "So what are you smiling about?" "I read my own future before...and it says the same." I guess she was smiling because this confirmed what she already knew before, from her own ability, and was a case of pride.

This was the time I became a Buddhist, as this incident blew my mind.

[Nemisis]

Chapter 15 €“ Migration to near Death

Next thing was the 1st Gulf war, the American's labeled Thailand as the top terrorist haven, warning American and British tourists not to gather in public places, such as bars and restaurants. The war started in peak season, so instead of the normal low, then high, then peak season...we just got low season, low season, and more low season all the way through. The CIA was running around picking up Arabs off the streets of Bangkok, without the permission or knowledge of the Thai government, including Edmond Haddad, and a few other influential big business Middle Eastern men. Then the Thai government, stepped in, and deported the American Ambassador, along with his CIA henchmen, so they all had to be replaced.

Then the worst military Coup came along after the police were ordered to open fire on student protesters in Bangkok, killing and wounding hundreds. My head had enough of this, after all the shit I'd been through to stay in Thailand, I started to think about old age and no pension, and if something went wrong what was I to do. I was just over 30 years old, and working all over the world without a pension scheme, as you just don't think of these things when you're young, I decided to get back into the real world.

We packed up the bar and I took off to Holland, where I was invited to run a restaurant there, but by the time I got there, the fucker sold it. The wife was back with her mother, and set up a Thai food stall outside her mother's house, which was in a good area, and right beside a school, and survived pretty good there.

I then had to take the first legitimate job going, which was scaffolding, in order to get a fast contract, in order to get an apartment, in order to get a visa for the wife, and it all took a year. She originally told me she would come alone, and that we would leave the kids with her mother, and send money back, but when she got to Holland, it wasn't long after she started to be moody, and telling me how much she missed the kids.

Here we fucking go again, I had to apply for a house, as the apartment was too small to get the visa for the kids, and then off to Thailand to officially adopt the kids, which took a whole month, and was a nightmare. Getting up at 5am, taking taxi, motorcycle, bus, and river boat, to get from one place to the other. First was visiting the father in prison, which he agreed and was glad his son would have a better chance in life in Europe, a lot of paperwork, and then the following week brought it back to prison for him to sign, where he changed his mind, and decided he would need 30,000 baht first, before he would sign.

Now unknown to me, this was only for one of the sons Benz, but I was led to believe it was for both, as he was the father. But it was done first as it was going to be the biggest challenge, him being a gangster doing life for multiple murders. The next thing I know, a second pile of paperwork appeared, for the younger son Folk, and now it was being signed by their uncle, who was married to the wife's sister, with a couple of kids, which I knew and liked him for years. As he was sitting smiling while he signed the papers, I remembered asking what the fuck was he signing for.

It was explained to me that the father was put in prison just before Folk was born, and the uncle stepped in and signed the birth papers as guardian. Well fair enough I thought, until I found out the uncle was the real father, which my son and I only found this out in 2008. The whole family bull-shitted me all this time, a family I loved dearly.

The wife and I returned after that heavy month in Bangkok, to finish the paperwork in Holland, now it was going to take another year, to get the kids over. Now ten months passed and no word of any progress about the visas. So the wife started the huff with me, not looking, not talking, or cooking for me every day when I came home tired from work for two weeks. It was like I wasn't doing enough when it was all in the hands of the government now. I tried my best to get her to talk to me, until one night she lost it. The demons came back.

She was standing in the kitchen, and as quick as a flash grabbed two steak knives one in each hand and slammed them into both sides of my chest. Grabbing her wrists and wrestling her to the floor, then sitting on top of her with my hands pinning her wrists to the floor, with the steak knives still in her hands, I began to weaken with the first stab wounds and lost grip of one of her hands. She broke free and slammed the knife into the side of my chest another three times, being weaker still, I concentrated on pinning that hand back on the floor, when her other hand broke free, this time she took it into her head to cut my balls off. She then tried to slam the knife into my testicles but missed and the knife slammed into the inside of my thigh, severing the main artery to my leg.

That was it, the blood was spurting all over the place, and I just slumped over to the floor and lost consciousness. Now the wife was running around outside in the street like a headless chicken, or a film extra out of €˜Friday the 13th' covered in blood shouting "I killed my husband." While I lay dying on the floor. Eventually, they rushed me to hospital but by then it was too late I was dead just before I got there.

People talk about the near death experience, but for me there was no tunnel of light or floating around the room. I was just laying there nice and warm, calm and content. I felt I had a smile on my face, and although my eyes were closed, I could still see and hear the surgeons and nurses, running around me in the operating room, pumping enough blood into me so they could kick start my heart again.

I remember the surgeon with those electric plates in his hands lowering them down on my chest and shouting the word "clear!" And I remember thinking, "Oh no! Not again! I hope this doesn't hurt!" The reason why I thought, "Not again" was two days previous to that I was scaffolding in the inside of an old church spire, when I accidentally hit a electric mains cable with the pipe in my hands. I got blown right across and hit the other side of the spire, slid down the wall, and was laying there in a daze, while the rest of my work mates rushed down and picked me off the floor, then we all went across to the pub for a beer and laughed it all off. I also remember thinking, "What the fuck is this surgeon playing at? I've seen this on TV, they don't do this unless you're dead. But sure I'm not dead...am I?"

When they say a cat has nine lives, I had the lives of nine cats, with all the shit I had been through, from a lad back in Northern Ireland, to the present day. And the thought of my own missus snuffing me out really pissed me off, so I guess I had just that little bit of a fight in me still. Two days later I came to, in intensive care, with all sorts of tubes in me. The surgeon came and sat down and told me how lucky I was, and how he brought me back. But one thing puzzled him, while he was giving me electric jolts, to kick-start my heart, and when I gasped my first breath I said, "Fuck! That's the second time this week." So I told him about the church spire, and all about my experience in the operating room.

He was telling me, he comes across this near death experience from time to time, and is always intrigued by it. I was the first one that didn't have the tunnel of light or float above the room, so I joked and told him I don't fly without a parachute.

While enduring the two weeks in intensive care, I got word that I was granted a three bedroom house, had to move within two weeks, and that the visa's for the kids had been processed and was waiting in the Dutch embassy in Bangkok. Two detectives came around to interview me, and telling me she stabbed herself in the leg while I lay dying on the floor, and tried to blame it on me, saying she only stabbed me back in self-defense thinking I was already dead and only her story could not be contested.

The police found only her fingerprints on the knife, and realized it was self inflicted, and told her she would be better off telling the truth. While being interviewed I told what had happened and the predicament I was in, with the kids just about to come over, can't speak Dutch nor English, and being granted a house, I couldn't cope on my own. And after all the whole thing was over the kids, so if they were here, it would calm her down a bit.

Day after day I was getting pestered by one of the detectives, telling me it was all up to me if she gets locked up or not, and basically begging me to drop the charges and set her free, which I did but only for the kids sake. Only to find out after that he was fucking her in the cell every night, while I'm laying in hospital. The slut purposely put out, and had him wrapped around her little finger.

My scaffolding mates rallied round and moved house for me while I was in hospital; the cop wheeled her into my room in a wheelchair to apologize, with that bullshit stab wound (scratch) on her leg. I got out of hospital, and we pick up the kids at the airport, and got them started in school, and now we are all one big fucking happy family.

That is, until a year down the line when she thought, "Wait a minute! I am married to an Irish man, in Holland. How is this going to get me a Dutch passport, and citizenship? Fuck this I need a Dutch man." So one day I came home from work, and she handed me a brown envelope from two guys who couldn't bother to wait for me. Inside was a letter stating €˜You have been served...You have 3 days to get out of the house...the divorce hearing will be on such n'such a date. The bitch had been working on this for months. I was shocked at first, but then relieved, as it was the end of my torture with her. I had to move out, and now she was free to hunt for a gullible Dutch man.

From 1995 she was putting it around, up until last year, and every bloke she would stay with, she was abusing, and beating the crap out of them. Although she looked like a rose, she was a very thorny rose, and eventually had too much of a reputation, nobody would touch her with a barge pole.

She also had the witch reputation with the Thai's community here in Holland, and Thais were coming from Germany and Belgium, to get their dreams and futures read, and was hailed as some kind of fucking €˜Mystic Meg.' She also gave the kids and their friends the illusion that my little ghost, followed her to Holland, and had them all believing he was appearing to them all the time. She also had the Thai community believe that she had the ghost in her pocket, and that anyone crossed her, she would let the ghost loose on them.

This alienated her from the Thai community, as they were afraid to go near her. But I had to laugh at all of this bullshit, as I knew better; first of all she was a witch that was afraid of ghosts, and second of all I knew that the ghost was still in the building in Pattaya, to this very day. (I will end this chapter with the story).

And for the last couple of years she had been living with an old truck driver, who couldn't get it up, was getting the crap beat out of him, and couldn't wait to see the last of her. She was living in her own misery, with only the wine bottle for a friend. Eventually there was no path ahead, the only way was back to Thailand on a one way ticket, and to never to be allowed back into Holland, and left just last year. I think now it's understandable why I refer to her as €˜The Witch'.

1997, I went back to Thailand, not for mongering because I didn't want to touch another Thai bitch (the way I felt at that time). I came back to get ordained and enroll in a temple as a monk for six months, to get my head straight and to have a deeper understanding of Buddhism. Then I came back to Holland, and from time to time she would visit me with troubled mind. The funny thing was, she was giving advice to the Thai community, and then running to me for advice. And no matter how much I needed a ride, I wasn't going down that road ever again.

I suppose you are wondering which building with the ghost is now, well I'm about to tell you. I believe after we packed up, it was turned into a Kodak shop, but that didn't last very long. I guess the new owner didn't get along with the ghost. Then it was changed back to a bar that the owners of the building started, as they were having too much trouble renting it out.

In 1999, I went back to Thailand but this time was for mongering, and thought while I was there I would look up the building to see what was going on, and when I came to it, I looked up at the sign and there it was "The Pumpstation Bar," one of the old famous BJ bars in the street. I walked in and got the usual reception, with the shoulders being massaged, and a bit of ball squeezing, while I was looking around having a beer, sitting at the bar.

I wasn't quite sure if it was my old place or not until I went for a piss, and had to walk through my old kitchen that I built myself, to get to the toilet that was never there before. I came back with a smile on my face, and sat back on my stool at the bar. The owner was behind the bar, an old lady who had something wrong with her neck, and her head was always hanging to one side, (she died a couple of years ago) her 16-year-old daughter doing cashier, who was about to go to university, and another daughter who was in university.

So I was having a chat with them, while a girl continued to massage my shoulders, and then I thought this time I would do the €˜Mystic Meg,' on them for a laugh. I was wearing all black, with a shaved head, and my Buddha medallion hanging around my neck, and looked kinda weird, something like half monk, half priest. While all this was going on I looked upwards, closed my eyes, then opened them and said, "I feel a presence here" "You what? What presence?" Closed my eyes again, and then opened them and said, "You have a ghost here. I can feel him."

I was so sure after the trouble he gave me, that some of these girls have encountered him. Now there was a bit of excitement with them all yaking away, "Oooohhhh you hear that! Farang...he know about the ghost." Closed my eyes and opened them, to see the whole bar gathered around me, and said, "Yes yes you have ghost here...and he small boy!" Man you wanna hear the screams of excitement, "Wow! How come farang know about Thai ghost. Maybe he something special!" I kept my mouth shut about speaking Thai, I find it best that way, and its amazing what you hear, especially when its about you.

Then I did one better, "Who sleep 2nd floor?" All the girls answered, "Only she sleep 2nd floor." And they pointed out a nice little thing, that has been sleeping, and giving BJ's since the age of 16, and now she's 19. With the answer €˜only she,' it was easy to figure out that the ghost fancied her, and the rest was afraid to sleep there. "Ahhh! Ghost only like you...and you and ghost good friends...and you not afraid...but all you other girls afraid because ghost gives you problem."

They were all a real push over, and I had them all burning incense sticks and praying to the Buddha shrine on the wall. One thing I noticed, when they introduced the little girl, I sensed a bit of outcasting from the rest of the girls, and maybe a bit of bullying. As they all were gathered, I said, "Ghost tell me you all are not good to this girl...and you must take good care of her or ghost will give you very bad luck. Understand?" "Yes, yes...Ok. We understand."

Well I was the belle of the ball, and to top it all off, two days later I stopped for a drink, while they were all watching the lottery on TV, with tickets in their hands. The old lady and owner came to me and rubbed the top of my shaved head, and jokingly said to the rest, "I rub my Buddha for good luck." Five minutes later she won the fucking lottery.

Not the top prize of course, but pretty close to it, and all I got was every girl in the bar rubbing my fucking head for the rest of the day. Needless to say, I got free drink in there for the rest of the holiday, but because of the ghost, none of the girls would dare to take me upstairs for a BJ, although I didn't do ST any way.

[MikeNH]

I would love to read this offline as a PDF document that I could loan on my Kindle or soon to be iPad. The $23.95 for the book is very, very steep...

If you ever pull this together as a PDF document, I will drop a few PayPal bucks over to you

[Nemisis]

Chapter 16 - Welsh Paul's first time

It was January 1999, when my mate Welsh Paul wanted to go to Thailand for the first time, so we decided to go for a month in May. In our circle of friends we had four Pauls, English Paul, Scottish Paul, Welsh Paul, and myself Irish Paul, and we had to be labeled so, as our names came up in a conversation it was easier to distinguish which one of us people were talking about. Out of the other three, Welsh Paul was a closer friend than the rest.

So I made all the arrangements, told him what he should save for the trip, and wrote a little Thai phrase book for him to learn, while waiting for our departure date, with Olympic Air. At the same time I was teaching him a bit of Dutch, as we were living there. He was soon well into learning both languages, especially the Thai.

Welsh Paul was getting more and more excited as each day past, and got closer to our departure date. I remember the night before we left, he called me up, "I can't wait! Quick! Look at the Discovery channel. That guy form the lonely planet is on and he's in Thailand" "I'll switch over now. Oh yes I see him" "Look! Look! He's eating scorpions from that little stall with the fried bugs. You know Paul that's what I am going to do when I get there. For sure!" So I said, "Fuck off Paul! You haven't got the guts to do that." "I'm telling you, I want to do that...and I will."

The next day came and we were sitting on the plane, which changed in Athens then arrive in Bangkok, jumped into an airport limo, and arrived in our Pattaya hotel 24 hours after we left our homes in Holland. We arrived there in the afternoon a bit tired, but nothing a good shower would take care of, as we both had a buzz on, ready to hit the town.

We stayed at the Sawasdee Mansion, Soi Diana. It was a budget hotel around 500 baht a night, but that's only for one night, I haggled with them knowing that they have a weekly and monthly rate, and got it for 350 baht per night. I explained to Welsh Paul, if he ever came on his own, not to take the first rate they give you. The hotel had a small swimming pool across the road, where the LK Plaza is now, either side of it was nothing but temporary shacks made into bars or little restaurants, and nothing but fields behind them.

Now I didn't tell him I was partial to shag a few LB's from time to time, but I did tell him some yarns of the 80's, when they rallied round and helped me when I was broke, and told him if he encountered any, he was to treat them with respect, and it would be a mistake to piss them off, as they are a woman's temper in a man's body.

Before we set off mongering for the night, I told him I was going to give him a night tour with all the do's and don'ts, and that I wasn't going to baby sit him the whole holiday. This was to ensure that he wasn't with me all the time, in case I was on the LB hunt. I also made sure he didn't get a room on the same floor, as I managed to get him a room two floors up. That way he wouldn't know what or who I had in my room...and if he found out, fuck him, I really didn't give a shit.

Now Welsh Paul was a handsome chap, as he had the women all over him back in Holland, full head of hair (mine shaved), fit and slim (I had a bit of a bulge by now), ten years younger than me. As we set out, I told him we would start off at one end at Soi 2, and bar hop all the way back down towards Walking street, drinking one beer in each bar complex, but we would walk all the way, so I could show him the bars on the way up.

Just around the corner on the second road, there was a fried bug vendor, I stopped, "Right there you are mate get stuck in there!" Welsh Paul took one look and said, "Emm yes! Ahem. I'll just wait for another night. Don't want to spoil the drink we're going to have tonight." Well fair enough, but I was going to get him some night on this, and keep him to his word. Now as we passed the bars, the usual, "Hello sexy man," and 2-3 girls jumping out of the bars and grabbing me, and rubbing my slightly bulging stomach.

The thing is, they were bypassing Welsh Paul, doing that only to me while ignoring him, and this happened five or six times, as we were walking up to Soi 2. This made him feel a bit left out, and a little jealous, when he stopped and pulled me about it, "What the fuck is going on? They're all running out to you, giving all you the attention and ignoring me...the most handsome man out of the two of us."

So I thought right, I'll have a bit of fun with this twat, and said, "You see Paul as you know, this is a Buddhist country...and as you see there on the little stalls, some Buddha ornaments (Chinese). "Yes!" "Well you notice they are all bald?" "Yes! I noticed" "Well that's the sign of a wise man (long ear lobes is the sign of wisdom) and you also noticed that they are all fat and smiling?" "Yep!" "That's the laughing Buddha for prosperity. Normally they rub the fat stomach to bring them good luck. That's what they're doing to me." "Oh right I see now... So you're saying if you're fat and bald... You're more attractive to these girls." "That's right mate... You got it in one."

To top that off I told him, if you were skinny you would look a bit dodgy, as you might have AIDS, as you wihther away to skin and bone, but on the other hand, if you have a bit of a belly, you look healthier. This was to get revenge on him, as the first time I got my head shaved, he was the one that did it, back in Holland, and took the piss with the rest of the mates later. I was going to get this twat to whack it all off before the holiday was finished, and then we will see who takes the piss then, when we go back to Holland.

We walked on, and as we reached Soi 2 the first thing I told him was to look for a bar with only skanks (ugly) in it. A bar in a good central position where we can see all the talent in the rest of the bars, and picking the bar with the skanks in, we will not be distracted from taking a good look around. We picked a bar in the complex that had a good vantage point, and ordered a beer.


So now I'm sitting there concentrating on what talent there was around, thinking to myself, €˜Right there's one there, that will do for tomorrow night...there's another one, that will do for the next night. Oh! There's a cute little LB, I'll work her in during the week when he's not looking...there's another one for back-up etc.' Then I turn to point out a couple of stunners to Welsh Paul, but he's only got his fucking head down playing tic tac toe, with a bag of spuds in shorts, at the bar. "What did I tell you Paul. We are here on a recky patrol...you can't do it if your heads down playing that shit." "I know... But she asked me and I was just being polite." "You could have just as easily have said €˜no thank you.' Isn't that polite enough?"

Anyway we did the same in the elevated bars at the top of Soi 3, then a little complex on the second road, just before Soi 6, and then spent an hour in Soi 6 and had a couple of beers in a few bars there, while I told him what the crack was in this street. Then carried on like that until we got to Soi 7, which was very quiet. We sat at a bar, and while I was ordering a couple of beers, there he goes again with the fucking tic tac toe, with another wee bag of spuds in shorts. So I thought, €˜Ah fuck him...the master isn't going to teach this grasshopper nothing tonight,' so I thought I'd have a bit of crack with the girls in the bar in Thai. One of the girls said, "I go with you," and as I had no intention of taking any of these girls from the bar, I just said, "Meo khrap! Song, pooying, sam loy baht LT (No thanks, two girls for 300 baht each LT)."

Things must have been pretty desperate, as she turned to another girl, had a chat and the two of them agreed they would go for 300 baht LT. The conversation was all in Thai, and Welsh Paul didn't know what was going on, while he played his stupid tic tac toe, until another girl came from the toilet, and asked the other two what was going on, and then she shouted in English, "I go with you also for 300 baht. 3 ladies 300 baht each for LT." Well Welsh Paul's head shot up, and all of a sudden he lost interest in the stupid game, "What was that?" "Ahk, it's only the three of them want to go with me, for 300 baht each, that's all." "You jammy bastard...so what are you going to do?"

"Nothing! I'm just having a laugh. We are about half way on the night tour...and its hitting midnight. We got a long way to go, before we hit walking street...and if you would pay attention, instead of playing that stupid game maybe the same thing will happen to you." "Right that's it! I'm not playing this stupid game anymore."

He then told me that there was a little cute thing back up at Soi 2 where we started, that he can't seem to get her out of his head, and wanted to go back up there and bar fine her. I told him, he might find something better, around the corner as the night goes on, but he wasn't having any of it, and wanted to go back. So we jumped on a baht bus to Soi 2.

Jumped out at Soi 2, to be greeted on the street by an Amazon type LB, coaxing customers into her bar, and the bar he wanted to go to was the same. So we sat down and ordered a beer, and I said to him, "Right! Where's this girl you're talking about?" So he points out this cute little thing standing at the back of the bar, I take one look and turned to him and said, "Paul you know that's a Ladyboy!" "No way...are you taking the piss? There is no way that's a bloke" "I'm serious... That girl is a ladyboy...right!"

I called the Amazon type LB over, and she sat beside Welsh Paul, he starts to slide away from her on the stool towards me, with a look of disgust on his face. "Don't be so fucking rude Paul...buy her a drink. She won't bite!" Then I got up and moved one stool, and asked her to sit between us. Then I told her that it was my friend's first night and he wanted to bar-fine the other LB working in the bar, but he doesn't believe that it really is a LB, and I wanted to make sure there was no trouble when he took her back to the hotel. So I asked her to explain to him that what he wanted was a LB, and she agreed it would be better for both of them, and turned around to him and said, "Yes this Ladyboy same me!"

As the conversation was in Thai, Welsh Paul took it into his head that I was taking the piss, "No way! You put her up to say that. Now you're both having me on." So I called over the mama-san, and told her the same in Thai, she turned round to him and told him that yes, it was a LB. Now he thinks we are all taking the piss, "No way I going to listen to you all. You're all having a laugh at my expense, because I don't know Thai. I'm going to bar-fine her whether you all like it or not." He quickly gave the bar fine to the mama-san, and then the little cutie came over and sat beside him. Next thing I know their tongues are down each others throats, and then he said, "Things are getting hot here! We're off to the hotel." "Ok mate! Suit yourself. I'll stay here for a while!" I told his new girlfriend where we were staying, and told her if there was any problem, to bring him back to the bar. So off the both of them went, leaving me there.

I figured they would be back within 20 minutes, given time to get to the hotel, time to get the shocker, and time to get back to the bar. So I waited 30 minutes... Nothing! Waited another 30 minutes... Still nothing! Then I started to get suspicious thinking, €˜They're not coming back are they, and she must be fucking good at hiding it.' I wanted to move on, but was afraid to in case they came back, so I waited in total two hours, but they didn't appear. Needless to say, I picked up a couple of girls for the night, as I traditionally do the first few nights, and went back to the room.

Next morning, I'm sitting having breakfast around 11am, and I spotted him coming down the stairs into the hotel lobby. As soon as he saw me, his head went down, in what looked like shame. He made his way over to my table, and sat down, all the way with his head down, and I could read his face like a book and said, "You fucked her didn't you?" "Ammm no, no I didn't." "Well what happened that you didn't come back to the bar right away...when you found out I was telling you the truth?" "Well! As soon as I got her into the room...she striped off to her panties...no tits, and a big bulge in her panties. I thought to myself...Oh no! So I asked her to leave." "And then what happened? Cause she didn't come back to the bar?" "Well she started to cry and I felt sorry for her, so I let her sleep for the night in my bed." "And? Is that all?" His head went down in silence, with the expression of shame, so I said, "Paul don't try to tell me you didn't shag her. You hadn't had a shag in three months. You would have shagged anything that was laying beside you in bed. A hole's a hole. So, what!" (Trying to coax it out of him) I was going to reveal myself to him there and then, but then again why should I, over an accidental first nighter, I will just have to see how the holiday progresses first.

After breakfast, he said he was going to take a walk around and do a bit of shopping, I told him were the markets were, and the ins and outs about haggling, "Always laugh and joke with the vendor...first ask the price...then offer half. You will end up meeting each other half way." I also told him it was best to shop early, as they have this thing about €˜first customer of the day.' First customer of the day should get a generous discount, as they believe it will bring them luck for the rest of the day, and bring many customers.

Later that afternoon I am in the swimming pool when he returns with a bag full of bottled water and his head shaved. "What in the name of god have you done Paul?" "Ah! I'm not stupid. When we go out tonight the girls will be all over me now. I'm going to drink these 10 liters of water this afternoon to get a belly on, then we can walk down the road like twins." Well I had to bite my lip, and there he sat all afternoon trying to get down these 10 liters of water, every now and then looking at his stomach to see if it was getting any bigger.

Now Paul thought highly of his hair, always getting expensive shampoo, and grooming it all the time. He was also going to the gym, keeping himself trim, so to get him to do this was a feather in my cap, and I was still biting my lip. I couldn't wait to tell him I was taking the piss, but I thought no, wait till tomorrow. And it was lucky I did, as we walked down the street to where we left off the night before, to continue our night tour, the usual girls were jumping out at us, but this time, they were not ignoring Welsh Paul, and started to do the same thing, grabbing him and rubbing his belly, with "hello sexy man!"

That even surprised me, and after it happened a few times more, he turned to me and said, "You know Paul! I thought you were taking the piss about the belly and the shaved head thing, but now I know you were telling me the truth, just like with the LB last night. I'll never doubt you again, and I'll listen to every word you say from now on. Cheers mate!" Remember I didn't do this for being in Pattaya, as they don't give a shit what anybody looks like. I did it for when we get back to Holland, when he shows up with a head shaved and an extra couple of kilos on his midriff, we'll see who takes the piss then.

We did pass the fried bug vendor again, and I stopped to try to coax him again, but his excuse this time was, he was on a liquid diet tonight. But then we sat at a bar in Soi 9, having a beer and a shoe shine, and little girl came around selling what Welsh Paul thought were raisins, all packed up on a tray, in half kilo bags. "Oh look raisins! I like raisins!" He called the girl over, and bought a bag off her, but the girls in the bar were giving him funny looks.

So he's sitting there munching away at these so called raisins, and remarked, "These raisins are a bit small, not that sweet either!" "Yeh! They shrink when they're deep fried and lose their sweetness!" Couple of the girls started to asked, "You like these?" "Yes I eat them all the time back home...but we don't deep fry them!" I could see the girls wondering where this farang was from, that he eats these all the time raw, and started to gather to watch him eat.

He noticed this and said to me, "What the fuck is wrong with these girls eyeballing me? Is it the shaved head and belly?" "Ach! They're just making sure you eat them right...you don't want to get any wings or legs, stuck between your teeth...as you will get awful bad breath." "What? Wings and legs on raisins? What the fuck are these Paul?" "Deep fried flies you twat" "Ahhh no!" As he spat everything out and rinsed his mouth out with beer. "Well you're the twat that wanted to do the €˜lonely planet thing.' Now you have, but I don't think your man out of the lonely planet, would eat that shit. Anyway it'll make a man out of you."

All the girls in the bar noticed him going from enjoying his fly snack, to almost throwing up, and couldn't figure out what was going on. I explained to them that he didn't know what he was eating, then there was an uproar with screams of laughter, and the whole bar took the piss out of him. He soon joined in with the crack, and laughed it off as a stupid experience. "Hey Paul! I suppose I'll have to drag you away from the fried bug vendor, every night from now on then...eh?" And through his laughter, Welsh Paul said, "I take it back...I'm not going to listen to a word you say from now on!"

For months later back in Holland, you would always here him telling that yarn among others, in the pub with the mates.

Soi Yamato and Post Office were dead, and Pattaya Land was crap but we had a few beers in all of them. Finished off in Walking Street, had a few beers there, and pointed out some LB's, which blew his mind. But we decided walking street was not for us, and we would go back to Soi 2 area which was more suitable for us. But first I took him into the Limaquai (an all LB ago-go venue), and this would be his first experience in a go-go bar, but of course not the normal kind.

There were no familiar faces inside so I played the newbie, as it was rumored that it was a real rip off joint, padding bills etc. So I wanted to see if it was true, and when we sat down and ordered a drink, we ended up with two LB's each sitting on ether side of us.

It was obvious to them that Welsh Paul was a newbie, when he kept asking me, "What are they saying Paul?" "How the fuck do I know. I think they're speaking Thai." And gave him a wink, which he copped onto, but that was the only thing he copped on to, he still thought they were girls. "You buy me drink?" Of course soft touch Welsh Paul said Ok. "Wait a minute! How much for these beers? And how much, for the lady drink?" I said while looking at the bill, and one of the LB's said it was something like 200-300 baht a lady drink, the beer on the bill was 150 baht each, and remember this is 1999. So I went ape shit in Thai on them and the mamasan, and gave them a good rollicking, and told them the place had a bad name for this, and why they didn't have any customers.

So the mama-san changed the bill to 75 baht a beer, then the four LB's started to negotiate the price of their drinks, which they came down to 500 baht for the four lady drinks. Seeing that I was winning, I pushed it farther and said, "You drink the same as us at 75 baht, or you don't get any at all. Now do you want a drink or not?" Well they all agreed on that, and had a normal drink, so as things were more realistic, we sat with them and had another couple of drinks, and a proper conversation with them. I told them a few yarns about the old days, which they were right into, and must have asked me a hundred questions on it.

Welsh Paul was nice and relaxed sitting there getting groped by two of them, tongues down his throat, while they told him what they would like to do with him, telling this amateur playboy things he had never heard of before. I said to him, "Right boy its time to go. It's getting late and we want to get to the Soi 2 area now, of course he wanted to stay, but I dragged him out in the end. No sooner did we get out of the door, to head up the street to get a baht bus to Soi 2, that I turned to him and said, "By the way Paul. Those were all ladyboys! "Aaaahhh fuck! You did it again to me" "I didn't do anything...if you can't tell the difference by now, even after sleeping with one...you must be thicker than I thought...but most likely your in denial about it." Paul was laughing his head off while we headed up to Soi 2.

We stopped at a bar at the top of Soi 3, and clicked right away with two girls from one of the bars. I clicked with a cute little short-haired girl there, who was about 25 and a real comedian, and made me laugh the whole night, so I took her. Welsh Paul was busy with another girl, who was pretty but not my style, but it was a real girl this time.

I can't say much about Welsh Paul's date, but my little thing was quite short but a fit hard body, hardly any tits, and would put you in mind of a femboy, but an animal in bed. She had a habit of sucking my bottom lip, and she was so small I thought if I had to get up urgently, I would be standing there with her dangling off my bottom lip in mid air. Actually the next morning my bottom lip was swollen to twice the size of the top one.

We messed around with them for a couple of days until I decided we should look for other treasures. I told the girls we had to go to Cambodia for a week, and they had to go back to the bar. When we returned we would meet up with them again. So our Cambodia was in Soi 9 that night, while the girls work away in their bar in Soi 3. All we had to do was to stay away from that area for a week, and concentrate on Soi 7-8-9, and other places.

This time I got the twat at the fried bug vendor to eat a whole fried frog, that's as far as he would go. Then we sat in a bar in the Soi 9 complex, but not the side with the LB cabaret show, the other side, which is not there anymore, and sat at a bar that the owner won miss Thailand a couple of years earlier, and opened a second bar in Soi Diana later. She had one femboy working there, but not my type, and seemed to be the only one working out of 20+ lazy girls, emptying the ashtrays, wiping down the bar, and serving drinks, while the rest of the GG's pondered over their make-up.

She had a great attitude and always happy, never bar fined and took care of the bar from 12 noon until 3-4am, when the rest of the GG's came at 6pm. At that time I saw this in many bars, hiring only one LB and taking advantage of them by using them as the skivvies (laborers), thinking they would never be bar fined, making them do all the work while the other lazy bitches did jack shit.

We got her a couple of drinks, making sure that the other bitches did the serving, and gave her a good tip. But at the back of the complex, by the toilets, was a LB-only bar there, full of stunning looking LB's, and they would strut around the bar we were sitting at, giving us the eye when they passed. Welsh Paul was foaming at the mouth, and said, "Let's sit at that bar. It's got the best women in this complex!" Is this man ever going to learn I thought?

So we parked our asses there, and I did a bit of enquiring and found out that the bar-fine was double than any bar around, and the most of the LB's had Thai boyfriends and would only do ST. So that bar went down on the banned list right away, drank up and moved to the bar next to it.

I chatted to a little thing in a sexy red PVC outfit, clicked right away, so I paid her bar-fine, but sent her home to change, as later we where going to eat in the Green Bottle, and there was no way I was walking in with her wearing that, it barely covered her. We moved on to a Thai mate Noi's bar, just on the side of the Soi, great guitarist but sung like a fog horn, and he and his bass player were always stoned. I met him back in the 80's, when he had a bar in a complex on the beach road, around the corner from DIDI's, and I remember playing rock music with them till 6am a few nights with the police station just up the road. He always had big names visiting his bar, such as one night, Asanee & Wasan and Carabao, who was looking for him to join their bands, but he wouldn't leave his wife, who ran the bar with him, but that was a hell of a session that night.

So anyway we are sitting there having a laugh, and what does this Welsh twat do again? Yep! You guessed it; as he was a bit drunk now, he seemed to get on well with the only LB in that bar, which was 30+ and a real nice girl, dancing, kissing her neck, till finally he bar-fined her. Well fuck my old boots, there's me trying to hide the fact that I wanted to hook up with a LB, and this twat is on his second one. I made up my mind to say nothing for the rest of the holiday, and let him get on with it, and the following night I was going to take one, whether he liked it or not. Sure if he was so stupid, how would he know I was with one in the first place?

I kept thinking about that little femboy in the first bar we went to, and told my date I was going to bar-fine her and take her out to dinner also, just to give her a break, which didn't bother her at all as she knew who I was talking about, and was quite friendly with her. So we all went back to the first bar, and I asked the little femboy would she like to go with us for dinner, she was delighted, and off we all went to the Green Bottle. During dinner I slipped the little femboy a 500 baht under the table. Ever since that time I always paid her a visit, and took her out somewhere drink, eat, or Koh Larn island, with who ever I would be with, but never took her back to my room, and we ended up very good friends.

I remember telling her not to get her penis chopped off, as back in the 80's the operation was a bit crude, and the LB's I knew that got it done ended up going crazy, or committing suicide, because they were not able to have an orgasm. I mean, what's the use in spending all that money, if you didn't get any pleasure out of it. Like I said, for a few years after, anytime I was in town I took her out, which I wasn't the only one, many couples took her out, for dinner or movies, seeing as she was being taken advantage of. Besides that, she could take them on a tour of the place, as her personality was shining, and not a bad bone in her body. She had good Karma, and deserved anything good that came her way, and it did in the end.

So we had the rest of the night in the Green Bottle, while the little PVC girl was looking around, "What's up with you?" "Oh, nothing! I never come here before. I, 33 years old, and work bar many years and this is first time man takes me for dinner. Only bar and fuck in loom!" I felt kind of sad for her, and the femboy that was in my company. So at the end of the night, I put the little femboy on a motorcycle taxi a bit tipsy, and I could see she didn't want to leave the company, but drove off with a smile and a wave. The four of us headed back to the hotel, not forgetting Paul's second LB, nudge nudge, wink wink. I also bumped into an old Thai friend €˜Fly' who had a rock band in Bangkok, who knew the wife, and was asking me about the divorce.

PVC turned out to be an animal in bed, and took it up the ass without a whimper, but it was only a one night stand. Traditionally I put it around a bit the first week or two, till I get tired of it, then select the best one out of the bunch, and settle down with her for the rest of the vacation. That's why I try to do two girls a night the first week, because then that would be 14, I have tasted, and makes things go a lot quicker for the selection. Besides that, when originally taking someone in a threesome, then settling down with them, but maybe later I might fancy a threesome again, it's much easer because it was already done before.

We all met up for breakfast the next morning, PVC and I paid no attention to Welsh Paul's LB, and Paul was giving me funny looks, as if to say, €˜why are you not giving me shit over picking up another LB.' I think he thought he got one over on me, and thought I didn't realize it was a LB. I let him think that, for tonight I was pulling a LB or two for myself, and he better not open his mouth, or all hell will break loose.

Then we all messed about in the swimming pool for a few hours, and I pulled PVC to the side, and told her, "Tonight you work bar. I want to take ladyboy tonight!" "What? You want to take ladyboy?" "Yes I want to try. Because I never do before...and I jealous my friend. He takes ladyboy every time...he tell me it's very good." She laughed and said, "Ok Paul! No problems. Not worry about me...I have sponsor and many customers in my bar but I hope I see you again, you good man." And as she walked away I shouted after her, "Not forget terak (darling). When you go with customer tell them you want to go eat or look movie. Not just fuck in the room!" She turned and laughed, "Yes, yes Paul! I tell them €˜I hungry not horny,'" remembering the €˜hungry/ horny' yarn I told them the night before, in the Green Bottle.

Welsh Paul paid off his LB friend also, blaming me of course (he had to follow the leader), but she knew we would be back, as her boss is a very good friend of mine. Later as we were both alone at the pool, he asked, "Well! What did you think of that one I had?" "She's all right!" "What just all right?" "Yes Paul... She's a nice girl!" Then his head looked down to the ground with a little glee on his face, and I could tell he was thinking he got one over on me.

[Nemisis]

Chapter 17 €“ The Porn star, & the Hairdresser

7pm that same night we were locked and loaded, and ready for the night's recky patrol, to see who was going to capture us. I had fully made my mind up it was going to be a LB night for me. So we parked it at the LB cabaret show at Soi 9, where I spotted this very cute and pretty little LB sitting at the next bar. A young thing and very passable, so as Welsh Paul got up and went to the toilet, and I call this pretty little thing over and gave her the money for her bar-fine, and told her when my mate came back from the toilet, we will drink up at the bar we were sitting and come to her bar, which was the bar the LB's all hung out in.

Welsh Paul comes back, and I tell him to drink up we were moving to the next bar, but I said nothing about paying the bar-fine. So we moved, and the little cute thing sat beside me without saying a word, now Welsh Paul started to give her the eye, she smiled back thinking well we're all in the same company now. I went to order her a drink, but Welsh Paul insisted that he would do that, as he fancied her. So I just let him carry on, and let him carry on trying to chat her up, while I was eyeing up the rest of the LB's that was coming and going in the bar.

He then nudges me, "I'm having this one tonight! She's the best in the bar, look at her long fingers, she'll be clawing the back of me like a cat, when I'm shagging her." Then he turned to her and said, "I pay bar-fine for you ...yes?" She thought he meant I paid bar for her, so she said yes, so all excited he gathered the bar-fine out of his wallet, while I'm weighing up the rest of the LB's in the area, and not paying any attention to what he was doing.

So he calls the mamasan over, standing there with an out stretched hand with the bar-fine in it, "I pay bar for her!" They both look at him funny, "What?" "I pay bar for her!" "No cannot! Pay bar already" "Who pay bar already?" "Your friend pay bar for she!" So after he dug me in the ribs, and woke me out of a drooling hypnotic state I was in, over the talent that was strutting about, "You fucker! You did it again on me." "Did what?" "You paid the bar for the only thing I like here." "Ahk! Age before beauty, ma boy. Age, before beauty!"

So we laughed it off with another couple of beers, while I said to him, if I keep chalking the score down, I would need another blackboard. Then he said, "Right I'm off on my own on the hunt tonight!" "Well it's about time, I'm sick of the sight of you." "I'll think I'll take a look around Soi 7 and 8!" "Ok! See you tomorrow." And off he plodded in the Soi 8 direction. I move to the concrete table and benches by the street, away from the blaring music, to get a decent chat with my new pretty little friend. About 20 minutes later she went to the toilet, and came back and said, "I see your friend in the bar over there", and pointed in the Soi 9 direction, to my mate Noi's bar, where we had been the night before, when he took his 2nd LB.

I think he hadn't the bottle to sit down in any bar in Soi 8, walked right down to the beach road and doubled back up Soi 9, into my mates bar, or he was hiding the fact that he was going to pick up the LB again, while he thinks I'm with another GG, as he didn't cop on what she was. So I thought if he's going to all that bother to hide it, then I would just leave him alone for the night, even when I wanted to go to that bar later.

So I just stayed put there for a while, when a bloke sits down at my table, and I didn't notice him at first, until she whispered in my ear, "You know this man. He like LB's too much." So I took a second look. Oh no if it's not that black haired, hairy assed American/Canadian of Asian Ladyboyguide porn site, and a bit full of himself when he asked me could I sit somewhere else, as he was a porn star, and had to negotiate and interview some LB's for his next movies.

So after I told him to fuck-off, I laid into him with, "Listen mate I know who you are... You're that fool that thinks he's a fucking porn star...on that amateur porn web site Ladyboyguide." "Amateur? What do you mean? Did you see any of my movies? Are you a paid member?" Three LB's sat down beside him, and the twat didn't know I am sitting with one, so I went on, "I wouldn't pay to see that shit...I download them for free...and even for free I have difficulty watching them" "Tell me what's wrong with the movies Maybe I can improve on them?" "Ok I'll tell you."

"1- Did you get the camera for $10 in a yard sale...you have the worst quality on the net!"

"2- You're a cheap skate...and only use hotel rooms that are not more that 250 baht a night!"

"3- Whoever is doing the camera work...he should try to do it sober. No light, out of focus, pointing the camera in the wrong direction, away from the action!"

"4- You're a cheap skate also, when you use the skanks you pick up from the beach road and pay them fuck all. Try paying more; maybe you'll get better talent from the bars. People do actually pay to watch your shit."

"5- When you make a movie, its mostly all you. I wouldn't pay to watch you give a blow job all the time, or when I hear you say to the camera man, €˜get a shot of my ass.' I don't want to see your hairy fucking ass all the time. The theme is Ladyboys...not you."

"6- The worst part of your movies is you waffling on and on, €˜Oh yeh baby...you like that...mmmmm aaahhhhh. Tell me you like that baby...mmmmm oooohhhh,' right through the whole fucking movie. Asking stupid questions in English to someone that hasn't a clue what your talking about...and looks at you, as if to say, €˜What the fuck is wrong with this guy.' To be honest, I have to turn the sound off, if I watch any of your shit, and now when I see any string or file with ladyboyguide mentioned in it I avoid it!"

Well the poor guy had his head down in shame, and the two LB's that was sitting with him, listened to what I said, and laughed their heads off in agreement, adding "Yes, yes...he's right", every now and then. And I left him there to wallow in his own broken ego, left Welsh Paul to get on with it, and went the other direction to Soi 8 with my little pretty.

We came across another older LB there, and included her in the rounds of drinks, and as the night went on, I saw they were getting on like a house on fire chatting away, so I bar-fined the other one also, thinking I would catch up with Welsh Paul, to make the score even. And off the three of us went back to the room, and had a right session.

The next morning, I paid them off and let them go, and then met Welsh Paul for breakfast, which he was on his own also. We decided to take a walk around the town and do a bit of shopping. As it was hot we got thirsty and he wanted to stop for a drink somewhere, so I dragged him into the short time bars in Pattayaland 1, which was the original place for short time bars, long before Soi 6. It was a bit of a laugh as he didn't know what was coming.

Sat down at the bar, and ordered a soda, and right away two little GG's started to wipe us down with cold towels, then proceeded to give us a shoulder massage saying the usual, "What your name? Where you come from?" Welsh Paul is in his element saying, "Ah mate this is the life! It can't get any better than this." I made sure we were wearing shorts and no underwear, before we came out, as I had this planned.

As they finished the shoulders and moved down our backs, we ordered them a drink, then of course their hands rested on our knees then slipped up under the legs of our shorts, and started massaging our balls, then pulling on our cocks, till within seconds we both had boners on, well my cock gets hard when the wind blows, never mind this. Welsh Paul is now looking at me with wide eyes, "What the fuck is this?" "Ahk sure this is a bit of a tradition in this bar!" Welsh Paul couldn't help himself, when I told him all about the short-time rooms upstairs, and this was only to get you up the stairs. And before I could blink an eye, he was marching up the stairs following the little GG, shouting back, "You wait for me!"

I am not a man for the old short time, and while he was up giving her one up stairs, the little thing that was pulling my cock, must have thought I wasn't interested in her, so they changed girls, and I had another one pulling on it. I was on my third one pulling on my cock, when he staggered down the stairs, "Right let's go!" "I can't!" "Why, not?" "I have to wait till this boner goes down...I have only got these shorts on and no support to hold it in" "Ha, ha, ha...come on stop fucking around!" We paid the bill, and he shoves me out of the bar, past all the girls sitting outside, on to the street, all the while with this circus tent thing going on in my shorts. All the girls noticed it and began screaming with laughter, and pointing to the cone shape in my shorts. I had to walk half way down the street like this, shifting and slapping it to get it down, with him walking along side me, bent over with laughter, and pointing at me shouting, "Look everybody! He's walking around shopping with a hard-on. First time in Thailand, I can't take him nowhere!"

He was over the moon that he got a little revenge, but I soon shut him up when I explained that we were only halfway through the holiday, and I could get him back ten fold. Then we walked around to Soi Post Office, and called into the €˜Nevada ago-go bar,' knowing well it was happy hour in the afternoon, and there would be all nude dancing and a bit of a lesbian show, all with 50 baht a pint of draught beer, you couldn't really beat that.

Then after a couple of drinks there, I headed back to the hotel, walking up Soi Diana. I noticed two girls and a LB, standing in the window of a hair salon, watching me as I walked towards them, and it looked like they were joking about my shaved head, which I shave twice a day, every morning and then in the evening before I go out. So I thought I would have a laugh here, as I was on the other side of the road, and the closer I got, I could see they were taking the piss about my head, and as I glanced over they were looking straight at me laughing. I then turned and walked across the road directly towards them, and I could see the expression on their faces, €˜Oh shit he's coming in here,' and the two girls ran into the back, just before I opened the door, leaving the LB to hold the fort, but all shook up.

With a straight hard face, walked in and sat down on the stool, and just said, "Hair cut," and sat there looking at myself in the mirror. The LB started to freak out, and said, "Hello. What you want?" "Hair cut, hair cut!" as she put the bib on me. Now one of the girls hiding in the back must have been the owner, a real looker, and in Thai shouts out, "What's he want?" and the LB shouts back, "Boss he wants a hair cut...what can I do...he no have hair?" "Just run the clipper machine around his head. He must be a crazy guy."

The LB switches on the electric clippers, and boy I never saw hands shake like that, while she ran them over my smooth shiny head, thank fuck she wasn't a dentist or a surgeon. After she done that, she calls to the boss, "What will I do now? This is crazy" "Just rub a bit of talc on his head!" And after she did that, she took the bib off, I stood up and put my head closer to the mirror, and moved my head from side to side saying, "Yes, yes, very nice. How much?" "Boss the crazy farang wants to know how much...for do nothing!" And the voice called out from the back laughing, "Tell him half price...because he han-som-man!" So I paid her and couldn't wait to get out of there, as I was bursting at the seams, and pissed myself laughing all the way up the street to the hotel.

I showered and got dressed, and met up with Welsh Paul in the hotel bar at 7pm, and off we strolled down Soi Diana towards the hair salon, when I mentioned to Welsh Paul, "Paul you got a bit of a 5 O'clock shadow on your head. Doesn't look too good, but I know a place where you can get it for half price!" One of them was standing at the door, and spotted us walking towards her, and I could see her calling to the others, "Look that crazy farang with no hair is coming down the street," and they all were standing at the window to get a good look.

So we gave them another shocker as we turned and walked in through the door. I really wanted to get a good look at the owner, which turned out to be a real good looking woman, with a bit of class. I revealed myself by speaking Thai, which caused a whole up-roar of laughter, when they realized I could understand every word they said that afternoon, and that the joke was on them.

While Welsh Paul was getting his head shaved, I sat and chatted up the owner, and I could see we clicked. I thought I would take it easy tonight, as I had a double whammy the night before, so I asked her out to dinner, which she accepted without hesitation. She told me after she closed the salon at 10pm. Of course Welsh Paul didn't know this, and after he got his head shaved, we headed off to the bars, and all the while Paul kept on about how the owner of the hair salon was a looker.

I went along with his hunt for a victim for the night, telling him I wasn't going to bother, and take a break, but I fancied a steak in the Green Bottle later, around 10pm. Paul agreed he would pick up a date, and the three of us would head off to dinner. So he bar-fined a cute little thing, and off we went to the Green Bottle, minutes before 10pm. I told Paul to order a drink, and that I had to go to the toilet, then I slipped out the side door, ran around the corner and picked her up from the salon, which she looked like a million dollars, walked back into the Green Bottle, and sat down at the table where Paul and his date where waiting.

A bit of a shocked expression on Paul's face when he said, "You jammy bastard...you did it again!" I told him it was only dinner and nothing would become of it. After dinner we hit a few bars, while I was telling jokes and yarns; the more I made her laugh, the more she was pulling my bed covers down. You don't have to guess what happened the rest of the night. The next morning she told me not to speak about our fling to any of her staff, and I had a suspicion that there was a husband hidden away somewhere.

It was pissing down with rain so I thought I would eat some Thai food in the hotel. I ordered €˜Pak-ka-pow' which wasn't up to my standard, so I went in to the hotel kitchen and cooked it my self, showing the cook how I like it, the cook was amazed how I could cook Thai food, and paid close attention. I do this anywhere I go, if it's not good, or it's not on the menu, but the ingredients are there judging by the rest of the menu. A few times I did it in the Green Bottle, and was actually a good laugh with the staff. It reminds me of €˜Fawlty Towers,' where the doctor ends up in the kitchen cooking his own sausages.

The Hotel manageress was a comedian, an older lady, who we kept on calling each other darling, and she kept asking me when I was going to marry her, or teasing the pretty younger receptionists. I was asked before, how did I know what the receptionists thought when a guest brought back a LB/GG for the night. Well staying in a smaller 3 star hotel, it easy to get to know the entire staff, I treat them as friends, and the gossip soon comes. Anyway I think I had Welsh Paul confused, bringing back a GG from here and a LB from there, he didn't know what the hell I was doing, and there was no come back from him. So from then on, I took back what ever I felt like having, without a second thought.

Paul was getting phone calls from the GG's from Soi 3 who we dumped by telling them we had to go on that so-called trip to Cambodia, as they figured we would be back by now. Paul wanted to pick them up that night, but I wanted to play the field a bit more. So that night he went up to Soi 3, and I stayed in Soi 9, at my Thai mate Noi's bar, where Paul's 2nd LB worked, and had a couple of drinks with her. "Where is Paul?" "Cambodia!" I smartly replied.

[Nemisis]

chapter 17 photos