Most tourists to Thailand have wandered through Patpong. It’s a tame monkey in comparison to twenty years ago, but other than the sex shows on the second floors there was never too much sleaze about the place. Straight-forward go-go bars and beer halls with the usual barfine and ‘love you long time’ lines.
Ho-hum.
Massage parlors. Girls with numbers washing you with their bodies. Very sensual but how wicked can a place be that the entire time you’re there the girl is washing you clean.
I’m talking about dives. Bars your mother prayed you would never enter. Booze halls your father never visited. Dumps you don’t write home and brag, “Gee, you should have seen where I spent Christmas.”
My first dive in Bangkok was Kenny’s Bar off Soi Duplei. A good daytime bunch of losers searching for the chance of sex or drugs or whatever comes there way. There was even a little gambling going on and Kenny was always trying to get you to go with his girls or him or the three of them. He’d even use drugs to weaken your resolve. Sadly Kenny went off to the UK with a lover, but his cousin Fat Pat is maintains the same level of depravity.
Kenny’s purports to be a bar/restaurant. It serves food. Walking by you wouldn’t think it was anything evil.
The next three are godless haunts with no socially redeemable values.
If you even know of these places you have already sold your soul to the Devil.
Congratulations.
Eden Club off Sukhumvit.
You walk into the bar.
The manager, a weedy frog, says, “The Eden is not for drinking. It is for fucking.”
The Frenchman claps his hands like the Marquis de Sade. The girls separate into two groups. Michel, that’s his name, says, “The girls on the right are 2 hole. The girls on the left 3. Do you need me to explain?”
If you’re there, you know which holes he means.
Hint, the count has nothing to do with the nose or ears.
If you hit the Eden right then you can choose two princesses, but if you show up with a friend, then you fight over the pickings.
And let’s face it going to a place like the Eden is no fun unless you can brag about your exploits to your friend afterwards.
3 holers are understandably not as pretty as 2 holers.
But they are good to mix and match.
The girls will do anything to each other for an hour; dildo, 69, XXX movies.
No request too perverse for 3 holers.
You better bring your party hat because the Eden costs about 3500 for an hour and you want to get your money’s worth.
And the clock starts ticking from the time you leave the bar. So no lingering on the stairs.
If you are stuck for ideas, the girls will provide inspiration.
Also Michel, the garlic eater, promises ’satisfaction guaranteed or your money back’.
Which is almost impossible after you’ve been a pig.
It’s a fine place to walk out feeling like you need to confess your soul, but it is far from damnation. That honor is accorded two legendary Bangkok establishments.
It’s 2am. everything is shut. You’re ready to go to hell.
Damn Satan. I’ll take his best shot.
For real sleaze you need some place when you mention its name, people scrunched their eyes and say, “You’re not seriously thinking about going there.”
THERMAE
The Thermae Coffee House is a legend of sleaze.
Entering the bar requires courage. You descend into a firetrap populated by the possibly wildest girls in Bangkok. ie their fun began way after where yours ended.
Thermae is not for the casual tourist as the male clientele was better suited for a police line-up in any country in the world; dealers, thieves, scammers, drunks, losers, perverts as nauseum.
If pets resemble their owners, then these guys own rats, snakes, and weasels.
In short the Thermae was a Disneyworld funhouse for deviants.
The girls could be scary. Ugly enough to make a train take a dirt road or else scary in the sense that you never knew what you were getting into; fight with an ex-, STD, psycho burn-out at your hotel, possible jumpers.
But that’s the price of admission to the most depraved place in town.
This place is sin and you know you’re a bad person sitting there.
Plus it was almost impossible to get the smell of a night off you.
At the reception of your hotel the staff would take a sniff.
‘Eau de thermae’.
Your esteem dropped to the level of a street dog, especially when your date from the bar enters after you. Cheap slutty and drunk. Miss Dok Thong 2006. The staff check your room for possible theft of towels. That’s the mark of Thermae.
GRACE BAR
This dark star of depravity has even scared the infamous Stickman.
Thanks to the recent edicts on early closure of bars in Bangkok, few nightspots remain open after 2am. The Grace makes the effort to uphold its myth. The girls are beasts and the men are lovers of beasts. No one seems to bathe or change their clothing. Some smell like they might have died in the past 2-3 days.
Everyone at the bar has smoked enough to pass second-hand cancer by breathing. Alcoholism tops 100%. Drugs probably 85%. No one deserves a second chance in the Grace. They wasted those long ago.
It’s a hellhole. The males are mostly drop-outs from the Osman Bin Laden suicide camp, Nigerian scam artists, Sikh tailors who haven’t washed in a year, and American expats too fucked up to realize they’re not in a go-go bar.
The women are beastoids to fuggly to fuck unless you’ve lost four of your senses. Most of them are old, which is good because the people frequenting the Grace should be banned from procreating little trogg monsters.
Still you got to love these, because without it, Bangkok would be one big shopping mall and we don’t buy anything in those emporiums.
Well, maybe Ginger Crisps at Marks and Spencers.
And stalk the girls in the lingerie section.
“Sorry, I’m looking for a bra for my wife. What size are your breasts?”
Never say girlfriend. Single girls love stealing men from their wives.
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