Out Again

I'm sure that people all over the world "stop by the bar" after work. When I hear that, I envisage 5 or 10 guys, each one wearing a different gas station shirt, sitting in a bar, accompanied by a 300-pound bartender, a jukebox that still has 45s in it, a creaky wooden floor, and lots of small beer-logo mirrors. The TV is permanently tuned to ESPN. Everybody is quiet, until somebody brings up "Donny's bought a new carbeurator for his GTO," or "I can't believe dem fuckin' Red Sox."

I live in Fun City however. Every night is a holiday. Hundreds of bars with thousands of girls laughing and chatting up thousands of men. The streets are filled with excited people, noise, smells, visions both weird and beautiful.

To many people it is overwhelming. It's a full frontal assault like the midway of a carnival with nudity and twice the volume.

However, there are little places that the tourists don't often find out about, where you can "stop by the bar." Granted, the music is still a little louder than conversational, and the bulbous bartender is replaced by twenty little lasses in lacy lingerie. The 5 or 10 sad-looking quiet guys are replaced with 5 or 10 happy guys in shorts, T-shirts, and sandals chatting noisily, with one of the little lasses sitting on either side of him, massaging his neck, rubbing his belly, and giggling. Still though, compared to the other venues, it is a little quieter, a little brighter, a little more personal. A local watering hole, Pattaya style.

So once again, it was out to TQ2 after work. I drove my motorcycle down to Marine Plaza, parked for 20 baht, walked the short distance through the din and deluge of Walking Street, turned a corner onto a Soi so narrow you could call it camouflaged, down to a quiet door covered with a dark velvet blanket, held apart by a cute girl in a waitress uniform, and into the welcoming atmosphere of TQ2, with Steve, Bob, Eddie, and everyone else sitting right close to the door where they can shout out greetings to everyone who walks in. A small Thai lady immediately pokes your elbow to take your drink order before you even sit down, while somebody is already motioning to the lady taking your order that he is paying for your drink.

Happiness... nay: Real tangible joy is what you find when you stop by the bar after work in Pattaya. Every night, forever and always. Gleaming like a big raspberry nyah nyah nyah to those poor schmucks in their station attendant shirts arguing about GTOs and baseball teams back in America. We here in Pattaya all raise our glasses to your hard work and dedication, but we wonder when you will grow a brain and join us here.