How’s life going, reader? My name’s Seven, and this is my blog. If you read last week’s post, you’ll know I’ve been discouraged by recent events in the Bangkok redlight scene. The cops destroyed Patpong, NanaP is 80% garbage, and Soi Cowboy is a practical joke on punters.
It’s fitting, then, that I returned to Pattaya last week so my little brother—who’s still here on holiday—could resume banging 6s on Soi 6. 99% of my time was spent chauffeuring him through the beer bars and translating for the convenience of the girls who grabbed ahold of him. 99% of that 99% was lived on The 6, with a short excursion to the Darkside to check out my friend Andy’s pub, along with the only gogo in that part of Pattaya. The pub in question—Paddy’s Irish Pub & Grill—is the largest of its kind in Thailand, and preserves many menu items from one of my friend’s previous culinary endeavors: The short-lived Steakhouse Co. in Patpong. I ordered a warm roast beef sandwich and buffalo wings, because I knew they’d taste just like the ones from the Steakhouse that I so love and miss. My brother got the nachos, also a holdover from the Steakhouse, and also reminiscent of the plate from that beloved and gone-too-soon Patpong eatery. ‘Twas a walk down memory lane for my tastebuds. Afterwards, we hit The Dollhouse Darkside, a hostess bar named after its sister location off Walking Street. The joint was small, but attractively-decorated in purple neon with large, comfortable booths for sharing a sit-down with your girl of choice. Speaking of, there were half a dozen chicks of varying sizes and shapes, all laid-back and ready to chill. In the backyard there’s a billiards table and a swimming pool, if one were so inclined. It seemed like the kind of place where a Darkside local would feel at home.
One evening, we went to Virgin Rooftop bar on Soi 4 to smoke a cigar and watch the sunset. Luckily I’d made a reservation the day before, because when we arrived, every single table was taken up by throngs of squawking Chinese tourists. It was almost impossible to walk to our seats because every inch of the joint was clogged with them. The following day, when I went to use the Starbuck’s wifi (don’t stay at Hotel Selection if you need the Internet during your stay), there were a hundred Chineses in there as well (and yes, the wrong plural spelling was deliberate. Like cheeses and sneezes are these Chineses). It almost feels like the entire population of China is trying to squeeze itself into Thailand, like clowns in a giant clown car.
I can’t believe it took 13 years to finally get around to trying Trattoria Toscana—the Italian restaurant south of Soi 6 on the Beach Road, but better late than never. That joint rocks Italian fare like no other place I’ve tried in TLOS. They have a dizzying array of wines, charcuterie, and cheeses on offer, plus they hand make all their pastas fresh on the day. The first visit was my brother’s idea. He wanted pizza after 6 straight days of also eating pizza, so we each had a pie. His was sausage and mushroom. Mine was artichoke and ham. Both were fantastic, so a few days later we went back. This time my bro got spinach-ricotta ravioli and I had the lasagna. The server recommended a Barbanera Chianti Riserva that was so good it made the hair on my arms stand up. It was a magical experience.
After my brother found himself another 6 on The 6, I ventured to Walking Street. First, I hit Dollhouse, just to see what changed after the old manger—my friend Tony—got canned. I didn’t see a huge difference, except that, instead of hobnobbing with customers, the new manager just sat at the register. The girls still had their tits out, so that was reassuring. Draft beers are now 90b.
Following Dollhouse, I wandered WS for a bit before suddenly and inexplicably popping in to Moulin Rouge, one of the Russian strip clubs. I’d never been inside one, and after a decade, curiosity finally got the best of me. And I tell you what, reader—it was kind of refreshing. Sure, the drink prices are obscene, and only one girl dances at a time and after she leaves the pole, she goes around panhandling 100 baht from each customer, but after dining out on Thai vajay for years, it was a nice change. So nice that I proceeded to visit every Russian joint on Walking Street. The girls range from hot and chubby to hot and skinny. I didn’t see any ugly faces. And my-oh-my, were the girls ever friendly. It probably helped that I can say “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen” in Russian. That little party trick went over like gangbusters. Being from LA was also an advantage. Most of the girls run a global circuit, humping poles from London to New York to Vegas to LA to Hong Kong to Ptown. Talk about cultured. They all said they loved Vegas and LA, and found my Cali accent to be sexy. ‘Tis the only sexy thing about me these days. I didn’t get a quote on a short-time fee because the girls were all very secretive about it, but I’m sure it’s outrageous. At any rate, I know I’ll be hitting the Russian places on every subsequent Ptown visit from now until I die.
One quick side note about Ptown—inflation has hit the barfine game there. Girls are quoting double and sometimes triple the short-time price (formerly 1k is now 2-3k). And why wouldn’t they? The tourists will pay it, because after 3 years’ lockdown in their basements, they’ll pay just about anything. An experienced monger need only laugh and say, “I’m not a tourist” in Thai. That instantly brings the price back to normal.
Along with the desperate sext tourists and extortion-rate prices is a continuing trend of rude, shitty girls on Soi 6. A chick outside Showgirls tried to drag me inside. I declined, but offered her 20 baht for her effort. She refused it, as if it were an insult to give her so little. So I walked two meters and passed it to a girl outside Playgirls.
The US Navy was back again. 10 years ago, when the yanks were in town you couldn’t get a seat on The 6 or barfine a girl. The sailors monopolized everything. Today’s woke pussy military are scared to barfine and don’t even drink in the bars. They just walk the soi taking pictures for their Instagrams and hugging the girls, or worse, pretend their attention doesn’t give them hard-ons. At one point I was sitting inside Wrath, just off the soi, and a group of retards approached the girls. One idiot pointed to his friend and said, “You see this guy right here? He’s rich!” The girls turned to me and asked in Thai, “What’s he saying?” I said he’s telling lies.
I used to hate when the military came to Ptown. Now they’re a live comedy show. They run from the girls, giggling like girls themselves. They all dress like they shop at The Gap circa 1990. They’re easy to spot because they all have the same ebarrections (embarrassed to have an erection, copyright BKK7) on their faces. After two nights of watching them on the soi, I got the feeling that maybe they were ordered not to drink or barfine.
One night, we hit Heaven Above on Soi Boomerang. ‘Twas packed with regulars and 3 fit girls in each rotation. On the same soi, Playgirlz was rammed and there were tons of buxom babes with fake tits. There were two rotations, each with a perfect 10 among them. Lots of silicone noses. At 10 pm they cleared the stage for a laser light show and—I kid you not—fireworks, with two police-woman cosplay chicks, followed by a muscular pole swinger a la cirque du soleil. I stupidly chose that time to take a piss, and on my return, the twirling tart kicked me in the head. ‘Twas an accident, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.
The old ladies of Tree Town are bar sharks. They’ll rinse you of a grand before you know what happened. I stopped by one joint so my bro could chat up a chunky 40something, ordered a SML, and suddenly two ladies appeared beside me, each holding a cocktail that ended up in my bin.
The next morning, we checked out the Hard Rock’s breakfast buffet. I have to say, I loved it. 350b for an impressive spread. The only downside is, it ends at 10:00 so you gotta wake up early for it. Afterward, I enjoyed a mediocre bloody mary at the poolside bar.
If I were to casually compare the atmospheres of BKK vs Ptown, the latter is definitely busier, more optimistic, and more fun—at least for now. Confidentially, I can’t wait to go back.
I need to take a moment and correct/retract some info from last week’s blog. This is the problem with reporting “news” and why I suck at it. I passed along a rumor about the Phuket-Patpong debacle that ended 3 gogos in the Pong. That rumor was that two of the underage girls rescued in Phuket were 10 and 12 years old. As it turns out, there’s no actual evidence to support this claim. The only ages included in court filings were 15 and 16—which is still awful. It’s just not as awful. And in unrelated news, Radio City reopened last week, with many familiar faces and a general mood of optimism. The same can’t be said for Delaney’s and the Patpong Museum, both of which were shuttered early last week, and will likely remain that way indefinitely.
In other Pong-related news, The Snack Shack has reopened across from Bada Bing’s side entrance. It’s the only oasis of light and life in that corner of Soi 2, which has been a dark black hole since the closure of XXX Lounge, The Strip, and BarBar.
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/
Photos of everything in this blog can be found in its YouTube slideshow companion post at:
https://www.youtube.com/c/BangkokSeven
If you’re in a generous mood, you can donate anytime at https://www.buymeacoffee.com/bangkok7
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: Grab taxis don’t pick people up during Songkran. Not in Pattaya, at least.
