What’s up, reader, how’s your day going? My name’s Seven and this is my blog. At the time of posting this post, it’s Sunday the 4th of December—one day before the return of the Patpong Night Market. So this week onPong was a kind of calm before the storm as the old gal prepares to receive a veritable infestation of tourists (tourfestation for short, copyright BKK7). Along with the night market, there’s a smattering of cool new additions to the redlight district, as Pong’s metamorphosis continues, including the return of Muzik live music bar, Joe Delaney’s chic new space, and the impending introduction of a beer garden on Soi 1. The dilemma I’m tasked with is how to maneuver through this new ecosystem while rubbing elbows with as few foreigners as possible.
Speaking of, I officially want the pandemic back. Or rather, the post-pandemic-pre-tourist tsunami days that made for a peaceful, sparsely-populated Bangkok. Last Sunday afternoon, after trying to hit the Shenanigan’s terrace to smoke a stogie and finding the place lousy with farang, I ended up at a table outside King’s Corner bar in the peace and quietude of a pre-crowd Soi 1. Late in the afternoon, there was an LGBTQ++ pride parade down Silom Road that left me confounded. Thailand’s culture has always been very permissive. Gay and trans people were and are accepted with open arms here. Pride parades are typically conducted to highlight the persecution of marginalized sexual orientations, so it begs the question: why in the fuck do you need one here? Nobody’s oppressing this community here. If it’s just to celebrate your gayness or transness or queerness or whatever…isn’t that kind of…how should I say this…stupid? I guess it’s not my place to say, since I don’t fit in with this coddled—I mean fragile and not-at-all-mainstream community. And aside from slowing traffic for a bit, they didn’t hurt anybody. So I guess it’s just a mundane mystery. It did find it weird that most of the people in the parade were white. But whatever.
All the telltale signs of pandemic recovery are back, like the big tour buses packed with bloated belligerent eurotrash, tuktuks trucking tense tourists to hard-to-find hotels. I actually had to help a tuktuk driver shuttle a family of four to the Holiday Inn Silom from Soi 3. Apparently he didn’t know how to use Google maps.
The skytrain is rammed at all hours of the day and night. Whilst riding over to Nana one evening, a Japanese tourist kept hitting me in the arm with his phone while playing a game on it. The more I tried to lean away, the more he leaned into me. In fact, I started to think the game was awarding him points every time he hit me. On the same train was a fat old farang with one of the ugliest Thai girls I’ve ever seen. He held onto her like a life preserver and gave the stink eye to every other dude in the train, as if to say “Stay away from my woman.” I wanted to tell him he didn’t need to worry, but thought better of it.
I love when the girls in a gogo outnumber the customers. It’s bad for business but great for punters like me. Such was the case Monday onPong, where lookieloos flooded the sois but mostly avoided the gogos. I suppose it’s one of the many reasons I prefer t’Pong over Cowboy and Nana. Nana’s the redlight equivalent of Walmart. Lots to not choose from. There are four fantastic spots in Nana that actually have good-looking girls, and I love them wholeheartedly. The rest is, well, shit. Cowboy has zero. It’s a sad state of affairs. But the massive wave of tourism points to a brighter future. More butts in seats means more revenue for the girls means more girls flocking to the bars means hotter girls gravitating to where the money is. That’s my theory, anyway. Believe the science.
On Thursday I was out of commission, thanks to pulling a muscle in my back during a bj. Actually, it could’ve been from a tense 30-minute mototaxi ride through horrid traffic on Rama 4. Either way, I’m fucking old. As a result, I missed Delaney’s soft opening, but was there on Friday to check out the digs. The place is, in a word, tits. Inspired artwork adorns the walls. Stepping inside is like changing dimensions. All things redlight are forgotten. The vibe reminds me of the Laurel Canyon bars in the Hollywood hills back home. I could almost sense the ghost of Jim Morrison (the Doors frontman, not the former manager of Electric Blue) in the joint. The owner’s got drink specials every night, and plans to get a humidor of cigars in soon—news that delighted me to my core. He also said the door would open at 2 pm starting next week—more music to my ears. Speaking of music, there’ll be a band 5 nights a week (on Saturday ‘twas a 4-piece jazz ensemble), and poetry and comedy on the other two. Add to that the Drunk Man Burrito stand near the entrance, plus an outside bar, pizza oven, and sandwiches on offer and this place has the word “perfection” written all over it.
Delaney’s feels like a hard liquor joint, but also offers booze for sensitive types like me. They’ve got four Aussie wines on offer: rose, chard, cab, and sparkling, plus an array of craft beers and Guinness and Heineken on tap. The place is nothing less than the future of Patpong.
King’s Castle was a madhouse every night, and in between the Kings’ bars, Muzik live music bar finally opened. Seconds later, the cleaning crew began work on Twilo—Soi 1’s other live music bar.
‘Twas my birthday last week—same day as Ozzie Osbourne, who I met once when I dated his neighbor’s daughter and he came over to borrow hedge trimmers. The day passed exactly how I’d hoped—with no one knowing about it. I didn’t even tell my harem girl, for fear she’d think she had favored status. I hit Pong around 20.00, smoked a Padron Anniversario and flitted between King’s, XXX, and Bada Bing. Basically no different from what I usually do. In that way it wasn’t special, though I doubt any of my friends back home get to bang a perfect 20-year-old on their birthday, so there’s that.
In looking back at my photos for the week, I noticed there aren’t many pics of girls in the gogos. I guess I got preoccupied and neglected to take them, so for the slideshow companion for this post, which can be found by clicking the YouTube link below, I’ve thrown in some selfies that the girls over at Twister Nana Plaza sent me, plus some from Joy at Bada Bing, just to add a feminine touch to what is mostly a slideshow of the inside of Delaney’s.
And that’s all the monger that’s fit to ponder for now, friends. Check back next Sunday for another summary of red-light events. In the meantime, you can read more about Bangkok life on my Substack: https://bangkokseven.substack.com/
Redlight videos and slide shows, including the companion for this post, can be found at https://www.youtube.com/c/BangkokSeven
Our gogo dancer content member site at Ismygirl will be deleted soon because the company refuses to pay us, so we have to find a new platform. More info to come on that, but in the meantime please do not subscribe over at Ismygirl. We’re not going to post content there anymore.
Follow me on Twitter @BangkokSeven for daily pics from the redlight, and until next time, keep your balls warm, your beer cold, and cheers to another week above ground in the greatest country on Earth: Thailand.
Pro Tip Post-Script: Reasons to hate tourists number 1,101: Now that the foreigners are back in droves, it the dinner portions in some restaurants has mysteriously shrunk. It makes sense. When there are no customers and you’ve got food about to expire in the fridge, there’s no reason not to pack a plate to capacity for the lucky few who do stop in for a bite. And I’m sure people are out of practice at ordering supplies for hoards of fat farang with gaping gobs. And so, for now at least, my portion of gai medmamuang is smaller than 6 months ago. Here’s hoping this problem fixes itself in time.
