A Warm Welcome

Arriving in Bangkok off the plane the humidity hit me like brick wall, I got my bags and paid a taxi to take me to my hostel which was a 15 minute walk from the main backpacker strip known as ‘Khaosan Road’. As I walked into my hostel I was instantly greeted by the receptionist, Venus was her name, a beautiful young Thai girl, more curvaceous than most Thai women with a porcelain doll face.
“Sawasdee Kaaaa! You Lukey Yes? I been waiting for you baby!” 
The perfect reception to any newly single traveller hell bent on tasting the delicacies of South east Asia. After taking my bags to my dorm room I sat outside on the street in Bangkok smoking a cigarette  contemplating what to do, and in general what the fuck I was actually doing! Within seconds the voluptuous receptionist was sitting next to me asking what my plans were for the evening, the conversation went a bit like this;

“Where you go tonigh’?”
“Not sure really, I just got here, probably go and see Khaosan”
“Oh, you go make party?”
“Yeah of course how about you?”
“I dunno, I think go party, drink whiskey, come back and get laid….you come?”

Well what the fuck are you meant to say to that?
She didn’t finish at reception until midnight which gave me a few hours to take in the madness that is Khaosan Road.
I walked down with a Scottish guy who I’d met in my dorm room, he was in his mid twenties, fresh off of the plane like myself, if I recall correctly his name was ‘Glen’ (didn’t have too much of an impact on my travels quite obviously). He was like a deer caught in the headlights, petrified of everything going on around him!
By the time we got to Khaosan Rd the sweat was pouring off of him then running down to his clenched fists, he was a nervous wreck! When it came to me suggesting starting off the evening with some fried insects,  I thought the guy was going to collapse. After crunching my way through a handful of larvae and a crispy cockroach Glen had reached his limit, he said he was tired and was going back to the hostel, unphased I continued down Khaosan, stopping for buckets of whiskey and red bull with random strangers, fighting my jet lag the worst way possible. At about 11 o’clock I settled at the end of Khaosan in a bar called ‘Gulliver’s’ which ended up becoming something of a tradition, purely because of the Farang (foreigner) holiday makers sexual exploits taking place around the dingy sticky floored bar.

Sitting there my first night I got talking to a middle aged guy called Brett, a business man who bought clothing in bulk in Thailand and sold back in the UK for around a 200% profit!
Chatting away, all of a sudden an absurdly drunk Irishman on a path of destruction walked over and slurred an introduction, he goes on to point out a Thai girl on the dance floor to myself and Brett then meandered back off to the dance floor and started licking every inch of her face. At this point I double glanced at the Irishman and noticed the young Thai girl he was with had an exceedingly strong jaw line, then I noticed the Adams apple on her throat which petruded further than her chin and finally (don’t ask me why) the 5 o’clock shadow.
I knew all about lady boys (‘Katoi’ in Thai) but I didn’t at this juncture realise how blind some people are to their sometimes blatant masculinity! The Irishman then reappeared and started to explain;

“I’m gunna take that home and smash the fockin’ shoite outa her”

I casually watched him wander back over to the Katoi and slowly grind down her body, running his mouth over her skin, thinking maybe he was in some kind of overly erotic soft porno,  I turned to Brett and said;
“We can’t let the poor guy fuckin’ do this can we?”
“We shouldn’t….but for a few more seconds for our pure enjoyment, we can!”

After admittedly after another couple of minutes of hysterical laughter I tapped the Irish gent on the shoulder and whispered to him;

“Take a second look mate”
“I know!….She’s fockin’ beautiful ‘int she”
“No mate! Jaw line, JAW LINE!”

Maybe it took him a while to decipher what I’d said, on the other hand maybe the realisation of what he’d been doing was painfully sinking in, but it took him a good five seconds of silence before he screamed “JESUS FOCKIN’ CHRIST!”, pushing the Katoi away he looked to me.
At this point I was thinking that this guy is gunna go for me, just out of pure frustration and humiliation, but instead of a fist he embraced me in a gigantic sweaty Irish bear hug shouting into my ear;

“T’ank you soo fockin’ much mate! I was about to take her home n fock her! Seriously I don’t know how to repay yer!”

The sweaty giant bought me a beer and went onto explain he’s a devout Catholic….a shining example, I’m sure you’ll agree.

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