Whether you are a first time visitor to Bangkok’s gay gogo bars, or it’s the fiftieth time you’ve walked into a Soi Twilight bar this week, with all your senses on high alert and your best buddy dripping in anticipation of the fun he’ll soon be having, your eyes are fixed firmly on the prize: the bevy of naked Thai lads just waiting for your entrance and the opportunity of spending the night with you. It’s why you are there, it’s what you’ve come for. Sure a place to sit would be nice; with all the blood in your body rushing to your smallest appendage sitting down is probably even a good idea. But the employee who just promised you the show is on now – even though it isn’t – has only what you’ll be siting on in mind. And that’s not your ass. It’s your wallet. And the baht it holds. And since the premise the establishment pretends is its core business is being a bar, the first order of business (not to mention the first opportunity to get some of that baht) is about quenching your thirst. Even if what they are offering is not what you are thirsting for. So after an insincere wai the first thing you’ll here is that traditional Thai greeting of, “What you drink?”

Old hands and frequent visitors know what’s on hand and know regardless of what you order (short of an entire bottle) the cost will be the same. Newbies, not so much. On our first night in town my friend Helena – who, being a dyke, did not have her attention fully focused on the studs on stage – sat and pondered that question while the mamasan squirmed with impatience over how slow farang can be before settling on a shot of Patrón. As if. Fortunately for her I corrected her order. Thais hate to disappoint. And the mamasan would have sent over a shot of cheap gin instead. She would have assumed that like with every other first timer to one of Bangkok’s flesh pots, Helena would have never noticed. Or that had she, the waiter who delivered the drink would have been totally stumped as to what the problem was. Not that the bar wouldn’t have carried tequila. At least on a good night. But the idea they’d stock an expensive name brand . . . well, you have to remember they are only pretending to be a bar in the first place. No problemo. The bartender is only pretending to be a bartender too.

I’m often amused by farang who order a cocktail in one of Bangkok’s gogo bars. They’d have much better luck getting cock or a tail than their favorite mixed drink. That those farang are also often the type of visitor whose constitution is supposedly far too frail to brave eating food from a street cart just adds to my enjoyment. If they are lucky the glass their drink is served in got a good rinsing at least once since the last 43 customers who used it. And if their luck holds out, their drink will include only the essence and not part of the remains of one of the numerous critters who committed suicide by dive bombing into that bottle of booze. Which probably doesn’t really matter considering the likelihood of what’s flying around and off the stage landing in their glass anyway.

The booze sold in a gogo bar is only there to save face; it allows the owner and employees to act as though their business is a bar instead of the brothel it really is. Cost-conscious punters think they are getting value for their baht by ordering a cocktail since they cost the same as a beer. Those more concerned with their health know a freshly opened bottle of beer is the safer way to go. And the cheap bastards who like to whine about how expensive those drink are like to order a bottle of water because then the telling of their tale of woe is an even more dramatic one. In the end, everyone gets what they ordered. And gets what they deserved.

The first word of Thai that I learned was Singha and that has served me well over the decades. It’s not a particularly flavorful brew, nor is it comparable with the craft beers I tend to drink back in the States. But it’s plentiful, usually served cold, and cheap enough that it’s not worth a bar owner’s time to refill bottles with an even cheaper brand. I think. On the other hand, there’ a reason why the bars treat an empty bottle of Johnnie Walker Black like gold. Now that I think of it, on my next trip I should haul along an empty Patrón bottle with me to give to my favorite mamasan as a gift. ‘Cuz I’m that kind of a guy. I’m jai dee. Seriously.

I’m also a serious drinker of scotch. Meaning I’m serious about the brand I drink, not about the amount I inhale on any given night. As in if a bar doesn’t stock at least Macallan 18, there’s no good reason to be drinking there. Unless you are in Bangkok and the bar has lots of naked hotties on display instead. I’m not sure if it is white wine or red that goes best with prostitution, but in Thailand if scotch is your choice the locals think Johnnie Walker is the perfect fit for male meat. I have to assume Johnnie Walker got its rep in Asia from either WWII or the Vietnam War. ‘Cuz you’d have to be shell-shocked to consider Johnnie Walker a premium brand of scotch. But Asians act like it’s the cat’s meow, much like misguided scotch aficionados pretend Laphroaig is too instead of it tasting like a cat meowing from the wrong end. But if you are out to impress in Bangkok Johnnie Walker is the way to go. Maybe because it mixes so well with Pepsi.

So tequila is out (because Bangkok has the same effect on your soul and mental state anyway) and scotch is out because they should pay you to drink that swill but won’t. So is ordering a Cosmo ‘cuz that gaudy, floral tropical print aloha shirt you’re wearing already told everyone everything they needed to know about you. If you are British, gin works. Because that’s what your grandmother drank. Daily. Starting around 10 o’clock in the morning. Gin is what made the British Empire what it is today. And unless you usually prefer your wine from a box, what they do to vino in Thailand should tell you the only answer to red, white, or rose is none of the above. Since you are in Thailand, you could instead opt to do as the Thais do. But considering what Thai hootch is like you’d be better off chasing the worm in a bottle of cheap tequila.

There are two less well known roads to be taken too. You could order what the boys like to drink when what they order will not impact the bar’s bottom line. If you ask, at best, you’ll be told it is ‘juice’. And though what that concoction is tends to change nightly, it does often resemble what passes for orange juice in Thailand. Which is sugar with some sort of orange colored dye added to it along with a bit of water. I’m not recommending that you actually should mind you. But if you want an experience, give it a shot. And then immediately order a shot to wash that taste out of your mouth.

The least likely candidate is a soft drink, which possibly is because ‘soft’ is not something that immediately springs to mind in a Bangkok gogo bar. A coke, Sprite, or 7-Up is not my first drink of choice, but when you’ve already exceeded your limit of 12 bottle of beer per night, it’ll do in a pinch. And while there is still the unsanitary condition of the glass to consider, what else you plan on putting in your mouth that night probably isn’t all that sanitary either. In any case, ordering a non-alcoholic drink can have a surprising benefit.

Maybe it’s because dealing with drunk farang every night can’t be much fun; I’ve noticed that as surprised as a bar boy may be when it turns out your glass doesn’t not have booze in it, you’ll often get a big thumbs up. You’d think with an inebriated customer possibly tipping more than he would otherwise, or passing out before he gets what he paid for, bar boys would prefer being booked by a drunk. Either of which would result in a win-win in their estimation. But instead, on the few occasions when I’ve opted to forgo the spirits that are usually part and parcel of a spirited holiday in Bangkok, my choice of bed-partner for the night turned out to be a real winner. Or maybe it’s that I can remember just how much fun he was when I wake up the next morning for a change. In any case, I don’t think it is a coincidence that the two bar boys with whom I’ve formed a lasting relationship both started out on a night when I wasn’t drinking. But then that could just be the lack of alcohol in my system talking.

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