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Davy Does Bangkok 1

“Now I know what it feels like to be a woman,” whined Dave as we made our way down Soi 4, none too successfully trying to dodge the numerous pairs of eyes that were busy sizing us up.

“Come on dude, we’ve talked about this. Just ‘cuz you bottom doesn’t mean you’re the woman.”

“Asshole. That’s not what I mean. This is like walking through a meat market.”

“Just be glad you’re not an Asian twink.”

“No, you should be glad I’m not an Asian twink.”

If you are out for a gay night on the town in Bangkok and don’t want that night to include little fem boys screeching to tip them while being plowed on your lap, Silom Soi 4 is the spot. Anchored by the venerable Telephone Pub and Balcony Bar, it’s the town’s gay soi where food and drinks are on the menu instead of sex. But then being filled with gay men, sex is always on the menu in one form or another. And while you’re looking for an open table, a few hundred pair of hungry eyeballs are all busy contemplating the chance of you becoming their next meal.

I’ve had a lot of fun nights sitting streetside on Soi 4 over the years. But those fun nights were always when accompanied by friends. On my solo visits it’s usually an early start to the night with the far more enjoyable Soi Twilight planned for later in the evening. So being hit on by money boys and the elderly ain’t all that. But with all the other places to grab a drink in Patpong, Dave and I had never been to Soi 4 together. And as a newly minted gay man visiting Bangkok, I thought he should have that experience. Between feeling like he was a naked model on a runway and the fluttering of eye lashes from the fem waiter when we finally found an open table, Dave wasn’t so sure that was necessarily a good thing.

Davy Does Bangkok 2

“I’ve done Bangkok as a gay man before ya know. You just didn’t know it.”

“Well neither did you so it doesn’t count. Besides now when we hit the gogo bars you can openly drool over the naked guys.”

“I’ve seen ’em, they do nothing for me. Now if you’d get up on the stage . . .”

My witty retort was drowned out by the braying laughter of Noom, my bar boy friend and current love of my life. Or current love of my life if you ignore Dave. Which was beginning to become a habit. Come to think of it, ignoring Noom was becoming routine too. It was safer on both counts.

On our first night together the three of us hopped into bed as a group. As a naked group. For old-time’s sake. Except this time around Dave was in the middle. And not that I had a three-way in mind, but rather because embarrassing a newly minted gay boy is just a hell of a lot of fun, I reached down and got Dave hard. Not that getting a newly minted gay boy who is naked in bed with two other dudes is much of a challenge either. Pulling the covers back to show Noom what we’d worked up embarrassed Dave greatly. Kinda, sorta. But then he’s still getting used to the idea that his dick is now gay too. So part of him wasn’t quite as embarrassed as the rest of him was. Regardless, Noom wasn’t impressed. Nor did he feel obligated to prove whose dick was the biggest. He rolled over to face the window instead. Ignoring each other quickly became the rule of the day.

Davy Does Bangkok 3

“That guy over there keeps checking you out.”

“Customah.”

One of the endearing things about Noom is that while you’d assume he’s not easily embarrassed considering what he does for a living, he is when confronted with bidness of nights past when away from his bar. It’s an uncomfortable situation for him. Kinda like running into an old boyfriend out with his new boyfriend with both acting friendly when the new boyfriend knows you’ve been there before him and is none too pleased about it. Dave had quickly deduced that when away from the bar world, Noom didn’t like to be reminded of the bar world and the livelihood he made there. And had just as quickly taken to pointing out every old, fat, ugly, or degenerate-looking farang we passed and then asking Noom if he was one of Noom’s customers.

The first few times he did so Noom took his question seriously. The next few he used sign language to reply. As much as he loves a joke being beat to death, that he was part of the punch line didn’t set all that well with him. His counterpunch to that offensive was to pretend Dave and my relationship didn’t exist and that Dave was in Bangkok to find the man of his dreams. Noom has taken to pointing out every far-too-young, twinky, and obviously gay local we passed and then asking Dave if he wanted Noom to introduce Dave to him. Being confronted with an actual past customer in this round, Noom went for the kill and told the twinky waiter that Dave liked him. A lot. Not being in on the joke, the twink plopped himself down on Dave’s lap. Dave was not amused. Noom’s laughter, however, echoed down the soi.

Ignoring the heeltap left in his glass – an unheard of feat in its own right – Dave managed to disentangle himself from his potential suitor and rose, giving the non-verbal version of Noom’s directorial cry, “We go,” and we joined the flow of the insane number of people, jostling and laughing, hurrying, hanging out and smoking, making their way down Silom; a deluge of shoppers, gawkers, and hustlers so intent on their own brand of fun or capitalism that made it impossible to go at our own pace. Cutting through Patpong’s night market limned by the glow of bulbs strung in shallow arcs above the jumble of stalls, we hit Suriwong and its throng of pedestrians, sausage grillers, and juice vendors who conspire to make every inch of sidewalk impassable and the parking lot like conglomeration of taxis painted yellow and green like rainforest parrots your safer bet, having made only a singular stop along our way while Noom held a particularly lacy pair of pink men’s underwear aloft suggesting they were the perfect fit for Dave.

Davy Does Bangkok 4

Dave was still coming to terms with what being a gay man entailed; Noom was intent on stressing the gay in his new reality. Or at least Noom’s definition of gay. Which boils down to an almost ladyboy-like effeminate bottom. And any move away from that ideal Dave made Noom quickly dealt with by reminding him, once again, “You gay.” Knowing that if we turned right for a visit to Soi Twilight despite how many potential customers Dave would find to point out to Noom, Noom would win the night by leading us into Classic Boys and its twink-filled aquarium, we turned left instead to head to Tawan. I thought Noom would have been disappointed at losing his easy score. The devilish gleam in his eyes said otherwise.

Gay then or not Dave had visited one of Bangkok’s gay gogo bars with me decades before. Back then the shows were less in your face. Nudity was more of a promise than the rule, engorged cocks on the stage were seldom seen. For a straight guy, or a gay guy who still is trying to convince himself he’s straight, compared to the bars featuring women life in those with hunks on stage was quite tame. And easy for a straight or maybe not straight man to handle. The bar’s stable was mixed, although leaning heavier toward twinks, and as long as said straight or maybe not straight man kept his eyes away from the television screening gay porn an accidental boner was easy to avoid. Walking into Bangkok’s macho stud fueled Tawan bar filled with prime beef in shorts cut so high you could see the lower hemis of their ass cheeks while a pair of musclemen compared erections on stage, not so much. Dave, like many before him, had sworn gym bunnies don’t do a thing for him. That he couldn’t take his eyes off the stage while we made our way to our seats said otherwise. And Noom giggled.

Once ensconced at a stage-side table, Noom casually draped his arm around Dave’s shoulder. And then just as casually began rubbing his nipple. Dave swears playing with his nipples does nothing for him. He thinks his nipples are still straight. His dick, however, isn’t. And his dick likes having his nipples fondled. Figuring what’s good for a goose is good for a gander with muscles, Noom waved one of the bar boys he knows over to tweak some tit too. Dave giggled. Then turned red when the bar boy reached down to see if his hard work was having an impact. ‘Cuz it was. Within minutes Dave’s crotch had become so moist it could qualify for federal wetlands protection. And if his nipples were any indication, his cock must have been as hard as a rock. Just to be sure, Noom began running his hand along its length through Dave’s jeans. And then called another bar boy over to join in on the fun.

Davy Does Bangkok 5

Unless you are visiting one of the sleaze bars down the street, or are one of the bar’s paid performers, in Bangkok actually having sex while sitting in the bar is a no-no. Like Las Vegas’ claim to shame, in a Bangkok gogo bar what happens in your pants stays in your pants. No matter how much it would like to not be confined by denim. From the size of the obvious bulge in Dave’s I thought we may have to stop back at the night market to buy him a new pair. And with three muscular bar boys now working on that eventuality since Noom had abandoned his post at Dave side in deference to those who might make a few baht out of the proceedings, those lacy pink underpants started looking like a possibility too. Dave, caught up in the moment he’d never envisioned, studiously ignored both Noom and me. Or maybe it was just that his eyes were studiously not ignoring the well-defined crotch a mere few inches in front of them. His job done – and quite well I must say – Noom leaned back into my arms with a self-satisfied sigh escaping through his smile, “He gay.”

All good things must come to pass, and that passing comes quickly when no baht is exchanging hands and a bar boy’s turn on stage is calling. The bevy of bodacious bodies that had been surrounding Dave dwindled to one, the one Dave had finally, tentatively, attempted to return the favor to after a quick glance in my direction. Quick because he’d been checking out the nearly naked and occasionally exposed studs on stage much as had those hungry eyeballs on Soi 4 been checking him out earlier in the evening. And despite how familiar he’d become with having sex with another man, I considered that night Dave’s first real experience in being a gay man. In public no less. And one that, all things considered – all things being Noom at my side – didn’t need to end.

“You know you can off him.”

“Uh, no dude. Really, that’s okay.”

“Seriously, you’re in Bangkok. It’s cool.”

Dave was tempted. He thought about it. Long enough for Noom to signal the captain to strike the deal. Which was a bit too quick for Dave. “No. Really. I’m good,” he sighed taking a last look at what had been captivating his attention. “But can we come back here again tomorrow night?”

Walking back to our hotel that night Dave was on the quiet side, not even taking the numerous opportunities of pointing out Noom’s potential customers to him. And Noom too set aside his delight in pointing out the fem boys he thought would be perfect for Dave. Not that I though either had suddenly reached a level of maturity neither had exhibited so far. And Noom proved my point. When we hopped into bed, having already taken that liberty once that evening, he reached down and got Dave hard. Again. And then pulling back the covers to show me what he’d worked up, dissolved into a fit of laughter with his newest battle cry, “You gay!”

Our second night in town and Dave had done Bangkok as only a gay man can. Or maybe that was Bangkok had done Dave, working its magic on yet another farang. In either case, Noom was happy with the results. How often, and under what circumstances, he’d remind Dave of his new reality during the rest of the trip remained to be seen. But considering the giggles that accompanied Noom as he drifted off to sleep, the future few days didn’t bode well for Dave.

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