A Guide For An Outrageous Vacation
Honor: A Lesson Learned
While drinking in a Pattaya beer bar one night, I met a young, farm fresh 19-year-old who claimed it was her first night (Yeah, don't they all). Reinforcing this claim however, was the fact that we needed the translation services of the other girls since she spoke so little English.
Despite limited formal communication, we still got on quite well (think: squeals of delight). She was the picture of the proverbial girl-next-door: enthusiastic with no pretensions.
I really enjoyed her company, though having just come from a massage-with-happy ending, I was too pooped to take her that night. But not wanting to lose such a great opportunity, I left with the promise to return the following evening and pay her barfine.
My return the next night came as a shock. "Farm fresh" had gone to the hair dresser to have her hair braided; the beauty shop to obtain copious amounts of foundation, make-up, and eye liner; and purchased a very short black dress, matching black fish-net stockings, and a pair of six inch platform high heels.
My farm fresh, girl-next-door catch had transformed herself into a cheap Thai-style French whore.
My jaw dropping expression reluctantly changed into a forced smile as it dawned on me that this girl had done all of this to please me! She had probably spent more money preparing for this evening than she would even earn.
Shit, it was true: she really was a newbie. And it was my misfortune (or honor, depending upon how you looked at it) to be her first customer.
Looking back now, I realize that it truly was an honor but at the time, to my shame, I viewed it with awkward embarrassment.
So hand in hand we strolled off into the night (I, wanting to put a paper bag over my head) as passers-by turned their heads with the sounds of audible disapproval permeating the air. I swear, if Pattaya had fashion police, this girl would get a life sentence.
I had heard about the Walk of Shame, but had never experienced it up until then. Attempting to traverse a crowded four star hotel lobby with a Thai-style French-whore teeny-bopper was a humbling and humiliating trek.
Those disapproving eyes mused at her, but I felt them bore holes through me. And rightly so: What the fuck is that fifty-something- year-old thinking? (Well, getting laid, if truth be told.)
Sex that night wasn't electric. But Noi was earnest, gentle and wanted to please. To be truthful, it wasn't the best.
Thinking back at that experience, I can smile. Of all the sweaty one-night stand encounters, this young girl stands out among the crowd as the most memorable. I now realize that she had done everything to please me and, despite her lack of taste (as I perceived it), she had honored me.
No bargirl has ever done more for me.
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Author, Why Thailand? A Guide for an Outrageous Vacation