It’s official, everyone. The redlight district formerly known as Patpong is dead. And we know it’s true, because it came from the godfather of Bangkok blogging himself. The Pong’s obituary was tacked onto a post last week about Billboard in Nana Plaza—a point that will be important later. Never mind that dozens of people have rung the death knell for Patpong umpteen times over the years. This time it’s actually true.
His eminence made the declaration from where he lives, which isn’t Thailand. But he got the info on good authority from people who were in Patpong the previous week. Well, “good” authority might be a stretch, since one informant earns his living by servicing bars in Nana Plaza. Also he’s (I shit you not) blind as a bat. He can’t see 3 inches past his nose. And then there’s the tiny snag that, on his Pong visit, he 1—only went into two bars, and 2—had the time of his life in one of them, bouncing a topless gogo dancer on his lap for 40 minutes (I know because I sat across from him) before leaving the Pong altogether. That’s irrelevant. You can take him at his word when he says Patpong is dead…although, there’s also the fact that he’s been “reporting” on Patpong for nearly a decade and never ever had a good thing to say about it. But if the above list makes him seem unreliable, he’s not the only source. A dude who’s been coming to Thailand on holiday for 30 years also went to Patpong last week and also told the godfather it was dead. And this is 100% understandable. For a guy who saw it in the 90s and early 00s, Patpong 2022 is definitely dead. “Dead” as in, nowhere near as crowded, crazy, or fun as it was back then, or even as recently as a few years ago.
Plus, as everyone knows, all you need to do to gauge whether a place is dead or not is to pop by once or twice a year on a night and stick your head in the door of a couple of bars. That’s just solid research. And so, the verdict has come down: RIP Patpong.
And as someone who practically lives in that redlight and who loathes tourists with every fiber of my being, no one is happier about the news than me. If punters avoid Patpong, it means I can have the peace and quiet I so long for in my mongering life. Nothing brings a smile to my face like the thought of the absence of those knuckle-dragging, pea-brained cunts who trundle off planes at Suvarnabhumi every day. It means I get Luktal, Noey, Ice, Praew, Som, Pu, Earn, Beer, Tong, Ya, Nan, Beem, Pupae, Sai, Saa, Bpai, and Mint (see below) to myself, sans the unwashed masses that stink up the gogos of Nana Plaza on a nightly basis (that’s a callback to last week’s post). Sure, there’ll still be the other Patpong locals, but they’re a sound bunch.
And so I must concur with the esteemed Bangkok blog godfather (Bangblodfather for short, copyright BKK7). He made me see the light—especially since I emailed him about his post and said that maybe trusting the word of a blind Nana staffer isn’t the best way to write a long-distance blog. He replied that no less than three other people said the same thing, including his buddy who’s been coming here since the 90s. I suggested that, since I’m in Patpong every night, he might take a gander at my social media since, y’know, I literally post what’s going on every 12 hours or so, 365 days a year. He said no, he’d rather trust his friends’ opinions. I wanted to reply and say, “So………you’re not even going to look? What are you, five?” But you don’t question the godfather. Even though he left Thailand years ago, he’s the premier authority for all time. Thus, it’s with a not-so-heavy heart that I say do not come to Patpong, dear reader. Ignore the photos included with this text, trust the experts, and sing an elegy for Bangkok’s oldest redlight. After being declared dead a hundred times in the last half-decade, the EKG has finally flatlined. Ding dong, the bitch is dead.
OK, let me dial back the sardonicism for a moment and be frank. Hands-down, in current year, the best redlight in Bangkok is Nana, and the best bar in Nana is Billboard. It’s not even a contest. I don’t work for any gogos, so I have the luxury of being honest with you. Cowboy continues to writhe in agony with a third of the bars still Covid-shut. Nana isn’t seeing the pre-scamdemic numbers yet, but it’s well on its way. For 2022 conditions, the place is booming. And that’s really what we need to incorporate into our redlight bell curve. Compared to 1990-2015, Patpong is dead. The night market, Le Bouchon, Mizu’s, Madrid, Superstar, Goldfinger, and Kiss Bar have all permanently closed. Glamour, Safari, King’s Garden, Topless Bar, and both live music bars remain shuttered. The gay cluster is its own ecosystem that hinders the flow of heterotraffic through Soi 2. Add to that the slow revival after a two-year lockdown and yeah, Patpong is quiet, especially to anyone comparing the current Pong to its heyday. Which is why only an idiot would do that.
And as I’ve pointed out multiple times in recent posts (that other bloggers refuse to read), the Patpong experience isn’t like Nana’s or Cowboy’s anymore. It’s like a Disneyland ride that was built when the park first opened and now is outshined by newer, fancier ones. Like Pirates of the Caribbean, or the Submarine ride. I loved that ride, even when I was too old to go on it unironically, even when they built Space Mountain and The Matterhorn, I made a point to ride that clunky old submarine with the fake rubber fish and hokey commentary, both for the nostalgia and for the fantasies it stoked in my imagination. Patpong is the redlight version of that. It’s enigmatic. It has the weight of history. And restaurants, a museum, an art gallery. Oh, and gogo bars with hot girls. Not as many as Billboard, of course. And that’s why it’s dead. Because if it’s not Billboard, it’s dead. So says the Billboard employee reviewing Patpong.
I mean no disrespect to the godfather. He’s the GOAT. He blogged when no one else did. He didn’t corner the market—he was the market. He’s The Man, and so must his intrepid on-the-ground reporters be. Any allegation that they’re braindead fucking retards calls GOAT’s commentary into question. They’re experts. Period. I mean yeah, I’m in Patpong every night, but come on. I’m not one of these flit-in-once-and-then-out reporters. I’m nobody.
But if I’m honest, I kind of have a problem with his informants. I’ve heard from mutual friends that he’s a really great guy, and I believe that. But I don’t trust his reporters. Let’s have a quick gander at the claims made by the two-bar-one-nighter:
“There’s been hype in recent weeks…about how Patpong has rebounded, bars are doing better month-on-month and the explosion of marijuana sales in the Pong has drawn flocks of new visitors.”
This is half right. The open portion of Patpong has rebounded. It took the Soi 2 south bars just two months to get out of the red after a 2-year closure during a very wet low season, and on any given night King’s Castle is as busy as Billboard with half the space. I don’t know anyone who said there was an explosion of ganja sales. I’ve said the opposite. Maybe he meant to say there was an explosion of ganja sellers, because that’s true. So far though, tourists seem somewhat reluctant to pull the trigger on getting high in the redlight. But then, I’m not an expert non-resident from the 90s, so don’t listen to me.
“From 8:30 – 10 PM, the total customers in Pink Panther, XXX Lounge, Black Pagoda, Bada Bing and The Strip was less than the number of people in just one Nana Plaza bar – Billboard at 10:30 PM.”
Well since the reporter skipped most of those bars, maybe take this with a grain of salt. And 8-10 is considered “early” in the Pong (shouldn’t he know that?). But he’s probably right. Patpong doesn’t get a steady flow of customers from open to close like Nana does. In short, if you want to be elbow-to-elbow with hordes of dirty cunts from the 4 corners of the globe all vying for the girl you want to talk to, Billboard’s the place. If you want to be able to choose from a dozen chicks with zero competition, then Patpong’s a better bet. Maybe that’s why the blind man chooses the Pong to trawl for his girls.
By the way, what idiot compares Nana Plaza to Patpong? Look at the picture of the Plaza to the left and the two above of the Pong. Nana looks like an adult candyland. Patpong looks like something out of Blade Runner. Nana has….how many bars? 30? Patpong has 8 gogo bars. Billboard’s rent is over 400K a month—XXX Lounge is ¼ that amount. Could that be why the “report” was just an advert for Billboard? And shouldn’t one expect Billboard to be exactly 4 times better than XXX, given the rent discrepancy? Also, no one should conflate the rest of Nana with Billboard. Billboard’s popularity compared to Patpong is exactly the same as Billboard compared to the rest of Nana. 90% of Nana is utter dog shit, and I didn’t come to that conclusion by popping in once. I go there every week. But you shouldn’t listen to me, right? I digress.
Billboard has the hottest dancers in Bangkok. Of course it’s busier. Of course it’s more popular, I mean am I taking crazy pills? What brainless dickless feckless cunt compares Billboard to Patpo–actually hang on, I can do it with zero effort:
Billboard is the World Cup. Patpong is Ronaldo kicking the ball around in the garden.
Billboard is The Avengers. Patpong is a Scarlett Johansson indie film.
Billboard is a movie theater. Patpong is Netflix on your laptop.
Billboard is a Lamborghini. Patpong is a Scoopi scooter.
Billboard is a wedding cake. Patpong is a pot brownie.
Billboard is a Playboy playmate. Patpong is a slag at a college party.
Billboard is an all-you-can-eat buffet. Patpong is boat noodles.
Billboard is a Roman holiday. Patpong is a weekend in Tijuana.
Billboard is Angelina Jolie. Patpong is your favorite ex-girlfriend.
Billboard is a steak dinner. Patpong is a smash burger.
Billboard is pure Columbian snow. Patpong is a speed ball.
Billboard is Lord of the Rings. Patpong is Hansel and Gretel.
Billboard is big fake titties. Patpong is small-but-naturals (ignore the ironically-placed photo to the right of a Pong girl with fake tits–it’s a metaphor)
Billboard is a martini. Patpong is a Jaeger bomb.
Billboard is a birthday party. Patpong is a blind date.
Billboard is Call of Duty. Patpong is Donkey Kong.
Billboard is an XBox. Patpong is a Nintendo Gameboy.
Billboard is Arnold Schwarzenegger. Patpong is JCVD.
Billboard is a stiletto heel. Patpong is a flip-flop.
Billboard is a king-sized bed. Patpong is a beach hammock.
Billboard is a pack of Marlboros. Patpong is a hand-rolled cigarillo.
Billboard is the Las Vegas Strip. Patpong is Bourbon Street New Orleans.
Billboard is Cheddar. Patpong is Velveeta.
You’re welcome for the accurate comparison.
Patpong is an unfinished puzzle, and you go there to see if you’re one of its missing pieces. In Nana, you’re just a jagoff in a sea of tits, ass, and other jagoffs (still love you, Nana).
“XXX was doing the best of the bunch, with about 9 customers between 9:40 and 10:15.”
The reporter can’t see. Literally. But he’s almost right. There were around a dozen customers then, due to a steady rain that lasted throughout the evening. I’m not sure how this reporter could’ve missed that in Thailand, when it’s pouring rain, both customers and gogo dancers stay home. Oh that’s right, he works in Nana Plaza, which has a fucking roof shielding them from the fucking rain.
“From 8:30 to 9:40, Pink Panther had, at most, three customers.”
That might be true. Panther is cut off from the rest of the Pong by the gay mafia and it affects their traffic sometimes, and of course, there was the rain. But their numbers are sporadic. The night before, there wasn’t an empty seat in the joint. If only the “expert” had visited then. Also, I was in Panther during that time and I didn’t see him in there. And he…uh…stands out. I would’ve noticed him.
“The Strip was doing buy 1 / get 1 free at prime time on Friday night and still couldn’t fill seats.”
Yer boy peeked his blind beady eyes through the door of The Strip on his way to XXX. He didn’t even go inside. The Strip’s crowd comes and goes in clusters throughout the night, and thank Buddha it does, because it’s a tiny bar. It’s 1/10 the size of Billboard. If they “filled the seats” from open to close they’d run out of booze before midnight. And that’s worth pointing out: Patpong doesn’t have the same goals as Billboard.
Billboard is McDonald’s. Patpong is a Daniel Thaiger burger truck. Billboard must get your ass in the door or go bankrupt. Patpong doesn’t give a fuck whether you swing by or not.
“Patpong is mostly a ghost town, even on the busiest night of the week.”
He’s partially right. Most of the Pong remains closed post-lockdown. It’s not just a redlight district. It’s an entire neighborhood, with shops, hairdressers, and travel agents, whereas Nana is just gogo bars and a beer garden. When the “cheerleaders” touted the Pong’s comeback, they weren’t talking about the whole of Patpong. They referred to the bars that reopened, which (if this supposed journalist would’ve done actual research, he might’ve learned that) thus far have had their most lucrative low season since 2010. Hence their optimism. But don’t listen to me. I’m just a guy who got the facts from the bar owners themselves, how retarded is that? You’re much better-off taking the word of a dude who peered through a doorway while on his way to somewhere else. And not to belabor the point but a night when it’s pissing down rain will never be Patpong’s busiest.
“And the vibe? What vibe?! Step into the likes of Dollhouse or Billboard and you’re drawn in by the sheer energy in the bar.”
Whoa, whoa, hold your horses. I really like Dollhouse, but I was in there 3 times in the last month, and it’s currently staffed by some of the grimmest looking girls in Thailand, a sad fact of circumstance, but a fact nonetheless. And the vibe in Billboard is strictly corporate. I love Billboard but it doesn’t have a vibe, unless “farang dickhead” is a vibe (still love you, Billboard). Having said that, the vibe in the Pong, if there even is one, is “Surf City” by the Beach Boys, for the lyric “Two girls for every boy.” Actually it’s more like 5 to 1 chicks to dudes. And that’s what our reporter doesn’t understand. He thinks he’s slagging off the Pong. How? How is customers being outnumbered by girls a bad thing? Compared to Patpong, the other redlights are sausage fests. In short, Patpong is the opposite of Nana. And I love Nana, too. I’m not a paid-off shill with a this-not-that agenda. Two things can be true at the same time. Unless you’re a propagandist pretending to be a reporter.
“And, sadly, there’s another reason not to venture to Patpong, at least for the time being – the disastrous and dangerous condition of the footpaths on Silom Road. From Sala Daeng up far past Patpong, the pavement has been demolished, with pools of standing water making even flat ground impassable and poor lighting creating tripping hazards, especially for those who have been enjoying a few drinks.”
Hahahahaha! Oh man, when I think of that poor blind hobbit trying to get from the skytrain to Patpong through the roadwork I can’t help but ROFL. Bangkok’s new governor is having the wiring in Silom moved underground. I guess our expert doesn’t read the news.
The saddest part is, he didn’t even need to make the trip. He already knew what he was going to say. ‘Billboard good, Patpong bad!’ He could’ve saved himself the trouble. Oh that’s right, he went there to grope a gogo dancer in XXX Lounge. Never mind. Also, he’s stating the obvious. Yes, compared to the best gogo in Bangkok, Patpong looks paltry. Thanks, Einstein! What would we do without your stunning analysis?
To be fair, If I were him, or the 30-year part-time local, I’d think the same thing. When you’re used to the sleek, glitzy façade of Nana Plaza or the Pong of old, the current incarnation must look and feel like a graveyard. But if you’d been in the Pong every night for the last seven years, during the lockdowns and through to now, you’d have witnessed a recovery that’s been nothing short of a miracle. It all depends on your perspective. Mine is of course irrelevant, having seen it first-hand.
In sum, the Patpong of previous decades is definitely dead. It died before the onset of Covid. Also, the bars that weathered the storm have bounced back post-lockdown. Both can be true, and are. Today, the Pong is midway through a transformation that—when complete—will be something unrecognizable to tourists of yore, and you should definitely not come to check out what that thing is. Please, for the love of Buddha’s bocci balls, do not visit Patpong. Don’t take my worthless word for it—trust the experts.
And in truth, it’s possible I’ve misjudged our myopic messenger. It’s possible he was just trying to steer tourists away from Patpong so locals like him (and me) could have it to ourselves. If that’s the case, then he has my eternal gratitude.
That’s all the monger that’s fit to ponder this week. In all seriousness, if you want a perspective that isn’t filtered through a shill, an idiot, or a blogger on another continent, you can check out my stuff:
Substack: https://bangkokseven.substack.com/ for general Bangkok-related and some redlight topics.
Redlight videos and slide shows at https://www.youtube.com/c/BangkokSeven
Follow me on Twitter @BangkokSeven for daily pics from the redlight. Follow King’s Castle’s Twitter @SPatpong, 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: Thais are on the whole a warm, kind-hearted people. But they can’t drive. The driver test is a keystone coppish collection of idiotic nonsense, and most Thais just bribe the tester to pass them. They have no knowledge of the basic tenets of road safety. So if you’re a tourist and you rent a car or motorbike, be aware that you’re in more danger than if you jumped into a shark tank. If you take a taxi, transport van, or bus, just close your eyes and pray. Because it’s Mad Max Fury Road out there.
