Bangkok.baronbonk.com A caterpillar through Soi Cowboy's gogo bars

A caterpillar through Soi Cowboy's gogo bars

This week, it has been the turn of Soi Cowboy to offer me a welcome. It certainly benefits from the absence of a night-market unlike other Bangkok gogo areas, and gives one the impression that the street is a pedestrian zone. That is not the case, and the unwary (or sozzled) may find themselves competing for space with motor cycle taxis or, worse, the 4WD SUVs sported by the bar-owners that are parked without regard to customer needs at intervals along the street. Worse are the Harlies and similar, with exhaust tuned to ensure that all and sundry are needlessly offended by their passage. If the owner of a bar finds it necessary to drive to work on one of the most impracticable forms of transport that man has ever invented (and deafen all the innocent bystanders in the process) I for one will not spend my satang in his bar. So I didn't go to Dollhouse gogo.
The new bars now sprouting out from the likes of Suzie Wongs and Shebas which are now being copied down the street, will hopefully make the soi so narrow that vehicles will be unable to enter, and maybe with a bit of imagination, say a zig zag pattern, many other pains maybe also eliminated.
I did go to My Place gogo, under-rated by many, but with a consistently above average line-up of talent. I crossed the street to Shark agogo, which is starting to attract Asian visitors in numbers, but where the girls still offer hope and encouragement to middle-aged, overweight Farangs and their hansum juniors. The tables outside Steve's bars ( Jungle Jim, Moonshine Joint, and Fanny's ) provide support to a motley crowd of expats, mostly self-employed and here for ever, who drink and drink into the small hours, often interrupted by the Burmese kids offering roses, shoe-shine, over-sized lighters, copy watches, and the like. Inside, “tugs” are available for a modest sum but coupled with an incessant call for “more cola”. Within, one finds the occasional stunner or “perfect 10” as the forums would have it but mostly girls who can no longer make a decent living merely pole-hugging.
It was in Fanny's last year that I saw street law exercised to perfection. A Geordie (native of Newcastle-upon-Tyne for non-British readers) was engaged in a dispute with the bar staff. He was over-dressed for Soi Cowboy, sporting collar and tie, and the point that he was trying to make was that someone amongst the bar staff had invited him to f*** off, for which he expected an apology. He identified the bartendee in question but she denied the use of bad language, and all her colleagues supported her story. He demanded that the manager be summoned and, after a suitably long interval to give Geordie time to rethink his request, the maintenance guy for Fanny's arrived. He (in his very limited English) insisted that he was the manager and then, with the help of the bar staff, confirmed that no bad language had been used. With extremely bad grace, Geordie paid his bill (one draught beer) and took a further swig from the almost empty glass. He proceeded to spray beer over the hapless ladies behind the bar, which was a big mistake. One of the dancers behind him removed her shoe and hit him on the head with the stiletto heel. A second dancer adopted a Muay Thai posture and swung her foot at him. A second glass of beer was readied behind the bar (as if a shower of cold beer might cool down our over-heated friend). Common-sense prevailed, however. A large and physically intimidating customer (Arnold Schwarzenegger look-alike) rose and advanced on Geordie. Grasping collar and tie, Arnold literally lifted Geordie off his feet and said “You are making too much noise in the bar. Please leave”. Geordie did so, very promptly, and was lucky to escape so lightly.
I moved on to Cactus Bar. Now I have often said this bar is small and uncomfortable, which it is. However, it has almost a cult following and Cactus John, the ever-present host, has one of the driest senses of humour to be found in someone who hails from the USA . He also plays excellent music, and can even be persuaded to reduce the volume for those of us old enough not to have had their hearing impaired by excess hours in the disco. Friday nights, John often lays on free snacks that he has prepared himself for the customers. The corned beef is awesome. The dancing is not – but John has to share his talent with Long Gun, who get first pick. I nearly forgot to mention Belgian beer. John has an impressive range of beers, glasses to match, and is well on the way to training his staff to pour the stuff without depositing most of the contents in your lap. Duval is one of the cheapest short-cuts to leglessness invented by mankind.
Sternly resisting the temptation to down a premium grade tequila with nam som chaser, I crossed the street to Tilac gogo. Harry and his dice-players had moved on and the bar was sparsely populated, lacking both girls and customers. I always get a friendly welcome however and tonight was no exception. This comes with a price, of course, and having paid it, I moved on elsewhere.
Elsewhere was Déjà Vu agogo . Personally, I dislike the prices (I think Baht 140 for black-soda or similar) but the girls are usually pretty, numerous, and scantily clad (all of which I do like). The service is not bad but, for me, the major drawback to the bar is that the loos are upstairs and accessed only by a very narrow and steep spiral staircase. They also have a wandering laser beam which can trouble those sensitive to strobes and the like. It took but one drink to find that Mia Noi was not at home so I rose (or was it staggered ?) to my feet to proceed onwards.
Onwards? It was almost time to call it a night. Midnight gogo ? Raunchy, yes, but most of the girls are approaching their sell-by date and the owner has increased the price of a drink by 40% since taking over last year. Cowboy 2 gogo ? Sometimes good fun but often not. The girls don't move from pole-to-pole at the change of the song and the sets seem interminably long if one manages to catch the eye of a cutie. So not good late at night for a last drink. Finally decided on Sheba 's gogo . Lots of girls, even late at night. Pasties in evidence but not much else (there must be a very explicit regulation about the showing of nipples that is being selectively enforced). Drinks – mid priced with reasonable service, although gin and tonic is something to avoid. Khun Mook is guarding the door against intruders, but takes little persuasion to join me for a night-cap. And thus ends another night in the closest thing to Paradise that I am likely to find given my advancing years.