Camaraderie between girly bar customers
You would think that any fellow men (customers) you see seated near to you at these bars would offer some kind of amicable acknowledgement should your eyes meet and you say hello or nod. I generally had nods back from blokes whose nationalities I could guess, bar a few. I thought at the time, 'aren't we all in this together?'
In general, there shouldn't no competition between us, as the sheer abundance of slim pretty females is more than enough to go around. (Back in 2000-01 anyway before mass mobile phones and internet spoiled it all).
Maybe not everyone wants acknowledgement, and fair enough. I think I'm a decent judge of a person, but some men actually told me to ''fuck off'' or just gave me a gruff ''huh'' under their breath. Are we all in competition? I wondered.
I thought life in fun city (I was in Pattaya at the time) was meant to be about fun and laughter, good times and fun memories, but this is before I learned about the 'other' side of this scene (men falling in love on holiday)
Twelve years back I was as green as grass as I headed for my first girl bar experience. I will not use the word 'gogo' even though it means pretty much the same thing. There I sat, with two mates from back home, and they assisted me in obtaining a pretty female for the night.
Next night I ventured out alone. I sat at a bar in the complex to the right just where Walking Street starts (where the sewage used to stink) and played connect 4 with several girls while buying drinks for them all. It was fun and I'd eyed one for the barfine already.
Two middle eastern looking men aged in the 20s sat down near my stool and looked at me, their faces turning to thunder. Was it me? Possibly? Do I resemble a hideous looking arsehole all of a sudden? They looked at the girls who appeared reluctant to entertain these men (they looked dark and a bit hairy) and the guys ordered beers.
I looked again and gave a general nod in the direction, just to appear non-aggressive and one man came up and pointed his finger on my chest. I got off the stool and asked him what was wrong.
''You take all zee girls, you are being zee lucky man?''
''No, there are many girls here, look!''
''I beat your head if take all zee girl, ok?''
I knew damn well that none of the girls there were 'his' but not really in the mood to argue I sarcasticly agreed and ordered my check bin. Them guys can have all the girls, fuck this, I'm finding another place. I ended up at Best Corner near the main junction where 2nd Road starts.
Five years later at Best Corner I got beaten up by three British Squaddies after a similar situation. My lip is still scarred.
I gave up being even remotely friendly to anyone after that, and after the squaddie incident I stopped frequenting bars altogether, by which time I had discovered University girls and their uniforms.
Expat bars? Don't get me started......
