Miss Bangkok: Memoirs of a Thai Prostitute (12 page)

Yuth warned me one last time not to fuck around on him ever again, or it would be the last time. I knew what he was implying, and I knew what he was capable of. He then turned on his heels and went to bed.

I was in so much pain that my walk had been reduced to a hunched hobble. I edged my way towards the mirror, not quite sure if it was a good idea to look at my reflection, yet needing to confirm that my features were at least all still in the right place, even if they had lost all semblance of their normal selves.

I barely recognised myself. One of my eyes was so swollen as to be practically closed and the white of my other eye had turned a watery red hue. It matched the colour of the rest of my face I thought to myself. My top lip was burst and spewed blood everywhere. My arms were covered in cuts and scratches.

Suddenly, Yuth appeared behind me. He hadn’t been able to sleep, so he had come back for a second round. A nightcap, so to speak.

He began kicking and punching me again, this time steering clear of my face—he probably just didn’t want to get any more blood on his precious hands.

Despite how badly Yuth had beaten me, I still wanted to go back to work. But Yuth refused to let me leave. He rightly suspected that if I left the house that evening, I might not ever return.

I tried to reason with him that if I didn’t go to work then we wouldn’t be able to pay the rent. He angrily told me that he would find the money himself, and with that he marched out of the house and slammed the door shut behind him.

I crept upstairs to my children’s bedroom and lay down beside them. Darkness protected them from the true horror of my face, but sadly, they had heard my every scream of pain and cry for mercy. Peung asked me what I had done to make her father so angry. I told her I didn’t know, but that if she ever found out then maybe she could let me know.

There was still no sign of Yuth the following day when I left the house to go back to the bar. I managed to convince Nhim to let me work as a waitress until the bruises healed. I’m sure she was worried that I might scare the customers away but she felt so sorry for me that she agreed.

A couple of days later Yuth returned home. I was preparing food in the kitchen when he crept up behind me and whispered an apology in my ear.

‘I was drunk and got carried away; I don’t even remember much of what happened,’ he explained.

I kept quiet.

‘I’ll never do it again. You still love me, don’t you?’

Again I didn’t say a word. He tried to tickle me but my ribs were so badly bruised that he caused me nothing but pain. I flinched at his touch.

It wasn’t just my body that he had beaten to a bloody pulp that night, but also the last vestiges of my love for him.

He handed me a tube of analgesic gel to rub on my bruises. This gesture was intended to be seen as an act of kindness but he was really just trying to cover up his handiwork as fast as possible. I refused to use it as I wanted the rest of the world to witness the full extent of his brutality.

I spent the next few days trying to muster up the courage to leave him.

Phoning the police was never an option as the authorities don’t get involved in ‘domestic’ matters. A husband can even rape his wife without consequence.

Once, when he was sober, I asked him if he ever worried that he might one day hit me so hard that I would be left brain-damaged. He just laughed at the question. He didn’t see his actions as having any consequences bar a few cuts and bruises that would eventually fade over time.

I didn’t pay too much attention to him when he first entered the bar. I was busy arguing with a customer who was refusing to pay for drinks, and anyway, one of the other girls had singled him out the second he walked through the door. As my argument with the customer became more heated, I noticed Jack sitting to one side, eavesdropping on the dispute. He appeared to be highly amused by our exchange.

When I first laid eyes on him I immediately questioned what he was doing in the bar—he wasn’t the sort of man who needed to pay for the company of a Thai woman.

I eventually called Nhim over to my table to help me deal with the disrespectful customer. The argument escalated even further and, out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Jack was doubled over with laughter. He finally managed to compose himself, and I saw him beckon one of the waitresses over. I overheard him telling her that he would settle the bill.

‘It’s my lucky day,’ I thought to myself as I made my way over to his table. He introduced himself and then offered to buy me a drink.

He spoke slowly so I was able to understand a great deal of what he said. He had a warm and affectionate smile that immediately endeared him to me and made me relax in his company. Unlike most of the
farang
s I had met, Jack seemed to have come to the bar to have fun rather than just to pick up a girl.

The next few hours flew by. I was having such a good time that I forgot that I was supposed to be encouraging Jack to buy drinks, but it didn’t matter because he bought numerous rounds anyway.

The night wore on, and eventually, to my dismay, Jack informed me that it was time for him to leave. For the first time since my early days working in the bar, I felt awkward about propositioning a customer. I wasn’t sure why, but it somehow felt inappropriate—which is quite ironic considering I am, after all, a go-go girl.

I asked him to come back again soon and then
wai
’d him goodbye. But to my surprise, he asked if I would like to accompany him to another bar. I delightedly accepted the offer but told him that he would have to pay the bar the standard fine to enable me to leave. He seemed unperturbed and handed the money over to Nhim as I got changed into more suitable clothes. We left the bar hand in hand. From the beginning, I felt more like his date rather than a prostitute.

Although Jack wasn’t drunk, he was definitely merry. He decided to meet up with a friend in Nana, which is another red-light area similar to Patpong and Soi Cowboy. I had never been there but heard from my colleagues that Nana girls asked for about 1,500 baht for a quickie, and the competition among them was even worse than among the Patpong girls.

Jack waved down a taxi, and when we climbed in, the taxi driver tried to rip him off by charging 200 baht for a trip to Nana. He refused to pay the fare, pointing in the direction of the BTS SkyTrain track overhead, and waved the driver off. It was evident that he knew a lot about Bangkok, which made me curious—I had never met a
farang
before who knew his way around so well.

The train journey to Nana took less than 20 minutes. When we got off at our stop, we walked the few minutes journey to Sukhumvit Soi 4, passing bars and street vendors selling deep-fried insects. The next thing I saw was the Nana Plaza, a three-storey sex-entertainment mall. It consisted of go-go bars and beer bars; there were also ladyboy go-go bars, which were overflowing with
farang
s.

We met Jack’s friend in a go-go bar on the second floor. The clientele seemed to be a mixture of
farang
s and Japanese tourists. Jack’s friend had already bought one of the girls, so the four of us left to have a drink elsewhere. As we walked, Jack told me a little bit about himself. My English was still very bad, but I managed to piece together several bits of information. I learned that he worked for a phone company and regularly travelled between Thailand, Germany and China. I was surprised to hear that he had been single for a long time, but I figured it must be difficult to hold down a relationship when he was away travelling so frequently.

At the end of the night Jack took out his wallet and counted out 4,000 baht. He pressed the notes into my hand and, staring deep into my eyes, asked me if I would like to spend the night with him at his hotel in Klong San. I knew Jack was supposed to be just another client, but somehow this transaction felt a lot more personal.

I was relieved to discover that he didn’t have any kinky fetishes; all he wanted was straightforward sex. Jack was also the first
farang
to make me climax.

I spent the next seven days and nights with Jack. He would pay my release fine and we would then explore the nooks and crannies of Bangkok before falling into bed in his hotel room in the early hours of the morning. His interest in me wasn’t purely sexual, though. He took me shopping on a few occasions and would always insist on holding my hand, clutching onto me tightly as if I were his most treasured possession. He took me to his favourite restaurant, the Hard Rock Café in Siam Square, and lavished gifts on me. Customers dining at neighbouring tables seemed more interested in the teddy bear and flowers adorning my table than the food sitting in front of them. We attracted puzzled stares wherever we went, with people keen to figure out the exact nature of our relationship—was I just another bar girl, or did I mean something more to him? The public speculation didn’t bother me though; I felt like Jack’s
jao yhing
; his princess, and from high up on my pedestal the rest of the world was just a collection of meaningless small black dots. All I could see was Jack.

Our courtship, if I can call it that, was exhilarating, but when Jack asked me if I had any children, reality stepped in. I was terrified that I was about to wake up from this wonderful daydream we had both been sharing, so I lied to him—something I had become very adept at over the last few years. I told him that I was single and had just recently started working in the bar.

Occasionally a client would notice the scar I had on my stomach from my sterilisation operation. I decided to go for a permanent sterilisation after the birth of Peung because I realised that I couldn't cope with any more children. When a client commented on my scar, I would cover up by only telling part of the truth: that I had children to feed after I broke up with my abusive husband. I would tell this story if I thought it would generate sympathy. Other times I would tell them I had an operation and would leave it at that. To tell a client that I was still with Yuth would be a big turn-off for them.

I like to think that I lied to Jack as much for his sake as my own. No bar girl will ever admit to having a partner or being a mother— and truth be told, no
farang
really wants to hear the truth. They have paid for the privilege of enacting their fantasy, and an exotic young nymphomaniac fits the bill much better than a financially destitute mother of three.

When his visit to Thailand came to an end, Jack asked me if I would like to stay in touch with him. On the one hand, I was scared of letting myself become too attached, but on the other, I knew that Jack had stopped being just a customer to me. And so I agreed. He set up an email account for me and, because I had never used a computer before, he brought me to an internet café to show me what to do.

On the day of Jack’s departure, my sister accompanied us to Don Muang Airport. Her English was far superior to mine and, not knowing when I would see Jack again, I wanted her to help me communicate to him the flurry of emotions he had given rise to. Needless to say, I had made it clear to Jack that my sister didn’t know I worked as a bar girl, and I didn’t want her to find out.

When the time came to say goodbye, Jack embraced me tightly, nestling his head against my shoulder. Jack was on the verge of tears and, despite my own intense sadness, I found myself soothing him and reassuring him that we would be reunited soon. For a second I let myself forget about Yuth, Atid, Peung, and Geng. I wasn’t a bar girl and Jack wasn’t my client; we were boyfriend and girlfriend being torn apart by a temporary business trip. But the final boarding call jolted me out of my reverie. Jack reluctantly pulled away. He kissed me goodbye one last time before he disappeared into the crowds.

My sister promised that she would help me translate Jack’s emails and compose a reply. Both she and
mae
knew about our relationship and they saw Jack as my
farang
in shining armour, come to whisk me away to a better life.

I was still very emotional when I presented myself for work that evening. Nhim noticed the dramatic change in my mood.

I nodded. Nhim had very little patience for girls who developed feelings for their customers. She had warned us time and time again that we were only setting ourselves up for heartbreak.

‘You may as well forget him because he has already forgotten you,’ she chastised me.

Fearing there might be some truth in what she said, I checked my email account as soon as I got the chance. To my relief I had received an email from Jack. He had written it only hours after we said goodbye at the airport.

Dear Bua,
I arrived home 15 minutes ago. Such a long trip and it is pouring down with rain here. It was very sad having to leave you at the airport and I thought about you the whole way home. I will always remember the time that we spent together. I hope very much that you will keep in touch with me and I will see you very soon again. I wish I could look into your eyes again right now, they are just so beautiful. I miss you a lot. You are such a sweet, kind and happy lady with a cute smiling face that I will never forget – even if I have lost most of the pictures I took of you because my stupid phone died :(

Shy, innocent but sexy is such a powerful combination. You really got into my heart so quick and it was easy to fall in love with you.

I had such a good time with you every night – the week went so quick. You and your sister took me to some great places where I really had a great time. Parting is such sweet sorrow and I really had to fight hard to keep from crying at the airport. It was sooooooooo hard to actually go through the door and not be able to see you anymore.

That woman I ran into at the airport just as I was about to leave was one of my former co-workers from my last job. She teased me a lot in the immigration line. I got totally caught up with you at the very last minute! But I don’t care anymore.

Something funny happened to my watch. The whole trip from Bangkok to California I could not change the time so my watch was stuck on Bangkok time like it was telling me that I should not have left you, I should have stayed. Not until after I landed in California was I finally able to change the time. It was very weird as I had tried many times throughout my journey. I thought my watch had broken as well as my phone. So the whole trip home I knew exactly what time it was in Bangkok and kept thinking about what you might be doing right then. I expect you are still asleep now as it’s 7am in Bangkok.

Something else that is funny is that I think I left my aftershave lotion (perfume) in the bathroom. Maybe the hotel still has it. If they have it maybe I can get them to keep it for you at reception for a few days and you could get it and keep it as a memory of me. Maybe put some on the teddy bear I bought you so that he smells like me. Would you like me to ask the hotel to keep it for you if they have it? I think I will need your last name for them to hold it for you. What is your last (family) name?

Say hi to your sister for me (if she is not helping you read this). It was very nice of her to come all the way to the airport for us.

Well I have to go now and wash a lot of clothes. I have to leave again on Tuesday and will be really busy tomorrow. I hope that by tomorrow morning I will have an email from you even if it just says ‘Hi, I got your mail.’ I would rather have a small email from you soon than have to wait a while for you to write a long one that I know will be hard for you.

So write me soon and please stay SAFE.

The sentiments Jack expressed in his email quelled any lingering doubts that he was interested only in my body. I felt reassured that he was as emotionally involved in our relationship as I was.

Thai women tend to evaluate a relationship first and foremost in terms of a man’s potential to provide them with a proper home and income. Jack ticked both these boxes, and I let myself believe that one day an email would arrive telling me that he had booked me onto the next flight to California. Surely it was only a matter of time. Aside from financial security, though, I also believed that Jack could offer me something else that no amount of money could buy—and that was love.

Jack returned to Thailand a month later and we took up where we’d left off. I couldn’t afford to quit working in the bar as I still needed an income to support Yuth and our children, so I insisted that Jack pay for my time. So each night I would take to the stage in my bikini top and thong and Jack, for his part, would play the role of the customer. He would gallantly pay my release fine and whisk me away from the bar. But the novelty factor of our act soon began to wear off, and I yearned for a normal relationship. In the beginning I thought of Jack as my saviour and truly believed that he would rescue me from the bar in Patpong. But as time wore on, it began to worry me that Jack was more than willing to continue our charade in the bar. I tried to convince myself that this meant nothing and that his love for me was sincere.