Wow! And I Thought Cowboy was Bad!
Okay, it's not fair to condemn anywhere based on one bad visit, but that subject line looked so terribly empty.
Tonight I decided to hit Kasalong again, stopping at the Charoen (I think that is the name; just past the closed gas station) Pharmacy for some supplies for a future night. Not a big pharmaceutical fan but if things go as I desperately hope they do I'll need a LOT of help. As I was walking by there anyway, I hit Nana Plaza for the first time this visit. For some now forgotten reason (and it had to be a good one since I don't climb to ANY third level just for the hell of it) I ended up in Billboard, sitting on the bench against the plaza-side wall right where the rotating stage is at its closest point. This is, by the way, THE place to sit if you are selecting the evening's companion based solely on the certainly not to be discounted criterion of butt. The ceiling above the bench is lower so the dancers on the near side of the stage are truncated from roughly the waist up and they seem to favor looking across the stage at that point (I assume they would be staring at a wall if they looked my way) so one has a fine non-stop parade of butts to stare at and no eye contact to avoid. One can choose not to follow a particular butt around to find out that the top half makes Angela Merkel look highly desirable, just imagining instead smoking hot boobs and face. A few of the girls did stoop down to look under the ceiling and wave, and I did make the potentially terrible mistake of smiling back, but, as we will see, that was moot.
Suffice it to say that there were several doable young ladies there, although given the total volume this is probably to be expected. I got there right at the shift change on the Wheel of Butt so of course had three alighting dancers stop by, but nothing that a smile and a head shake couldn't fend off.
Then the mamasan showed up.
I would describe her as the fat mamasan but such description really doesn't, um, thin out that field. This one was one of the larger and taller ones. She came over and shook my hand, her face a beaming smile to tell me just how pleased she was that I was there. Then she grandiosely swept her hand toward a dancer who was standing idly nearby, actually facing away, unknowing of the intrigue in which she was suddenly becoming involved. I didn't even look, just told the mamasan that, no, I wasn't looking for company, merely the Coke that had just arrived. The mamasan understood completely and this time grabbed a different nearby girl and dragged her over for me to marvel at, which I again did not do, repeating the bit about the Coke and solitude. Again, completely understanding the situation, she sort of shoved the hapless girl between the tables to sit down beside me.
I handed Porky the check bin and a 500 baht note. She still wouldn't give up / shut up. She gave the bin and money to the waitress but explained, "She no want money. She want talk!
Yes, I could tell how eager she was by how big a shove it took to get her beside me in the first place. I really felt bad for that girl. I never looked at her but could see that she realized that I was not particularly welcoming and really did not want to push it, but Porky insisted.
So that was Billboard: One Coke, three walk by proposals, one fat scum-of-the-earth, and two mutually uninterested would-be drinking mates. It was a busy five minutes or so.
Again, not really a fair test due to the sample size, but I'll head back to Sharks. I've been there a couple more times and Miss Bloodsucker has been busy so things were fine. I haven't tracked down MichaelSamuel's attractive sounding Miss Ing, though. I'll ask again next time.
I see a lot of the stalls are popping back up. At the On Nut BTS stairs they have the sidewalk down to two sidewalk paving squares in width. I wonder how much it would take to bribe to police to actually DO their job instead of not doing it.
As I wrote this a huge student banging argument erupted. I don't find an attraction to students odd, though it certainly isn't in any way a criterion of mine. I'm looking for orifices to replace my hand and care not what occupation or social class they come from. I think, though, that any logical discussion of sexual preferences is almost doomed by its very scope: Most of our sex drives have nothing to do with logic. I suspect they are a compilation of memories and idealized stereotypes: the hot nurse, the hot flight attendant, the hot student, the vacuum cleaner when we were 13, or whatever. Trying to read social prejudice from a sex drive seems a bit silly.
I would, though, like to know what latent memories and idealized stereotypes lead to coulrophilia.