2006 – 2010 – 1012 Comparisons and tales of hilarious mongering disaster.
i suppose when you are inside big ben you don't know what time it is. so after my little visit back to what was my favourite city in the world i was able to see the changes to the city from the perspective of an outsider. but in my case i see the changes as sudden leaps, rather than what i suspect to be the slow evolutional increments that you hardly notice when dubai is your day to day existence.<br>
my first chance to monger was when last thursday night i finally got a chance to pop into the rattlesnake after 17 months absence. somehow the place seems even harder to find when you are driving, since missing the exit off the north bound carriageway condemns you to kilometres of szr or the dread sandy roundabout-land of desolate, dark roads around the building site that adorns tom cruise's favourite building.<br>
the place seems to have had the exit to the road blocked off with the entrance discretely walled off from the nicey-wicey, moneyed diners in the metropolitan garden complex. my first impression is that this ghettoising of girls has its effect all over dubai. the working girl is more of an oddity on the streets, more discrete, but generally she is a harder creature, more scared, more devoid of humour and less willing to take risks.<br>
failing to get any chatting response from girls entering or leaving the place, i paid my 100 dhs to enter. i found everywhere now in dubai a growing '100 dhs' culture. taxi? 100 dhs. entrance 100 dhs. dinner. 100 dhs, breathe air sir? 100 dhs. even the beer at the bar in the snake is getting close to $10 for a simple small bottle of heineken. outrageous, greedy and stupid. at leat the jebel ali club for ex-pats still has reasonable prices for a pint of guinness and a steak, but that's not a mongering story i am afraid.<br>
the first thing i noticed is that the absence of chinese hookers was not simply on the streets, but in the bars too. maybe its because of chinese new year, but barely a cis to be seen anywhere, but plenty of the stanis. those hard faced mongolian kyrgis and khazaks scare me. the way they instantly turn to ice when they know a sale is unlikely or my price is too low, and their gaze makes you transparent makes me feel somehow insignificant. less than human. i wonder if it's really a reflection of how life has treated them, rather than the other way around.<br>
there were two caucasians near the dance floor, but i dod not dare ask the price. they were the sort that laughed behind the backs of the punters when they turned down their evidently derisory offers. i have to say, where were the stunners? whereas in the past there were always about ten per cent that i would class as good looking, there was nothing here? not one girl worth a look on a thursday? then one absolute stunner came in and made the night. the orange-clad karina from moldova with the uber-pretty face and the professional but nice smiling demeanour lighting up the place. it was like bees round the honey-pot. i got my interview with her but somehow never asked the price. my night was done and i had decided to go home alone. my appetite for some company had long since disappeared and i decided to save my money. somehow i saw a 1500 dhs price tag, but did not verify it.<br>
this friday took me to sas radisson and kubu. entrance 100 dhs and i simply turned around in disgust. i spent the night in marbles talking to the hard faced kyrgies in there, but at least i got 100dhs worth of drinks and again went home-alone and saved money. by this time i was realizing that dubai mongering was dying for me.<br>
come saturday i was determined to do something, so i went to the old favourites, having decided that the hyatt regency (panoramic was it called?) disco would likely be out of my price league, and pooped off to york. i was delighted that this was once place at least i still did not have to pay. slip past the queue, slip the bouncer a ten dhs on the way out still works.<br>
one pleasant surprise in york was, no chinese. at all, really. they were always too aggressive, following you around like puppy dogs, even after you said no, fifteen times. the africans were al ittle pushy but not too bad. now york was never my favourite place and i very rarely saw a girl i could go with, but always good for a warm-up. i met one girl from eritrea called 'heaven' and put her in the mental notebook for later and popped over to the regal.<br>
had to pay the 5 in the regal as i forgot exactly my own get-in-free method, but saw no reason why it would not still work if i could remember what size coin to use to forge the pass stamp. when i walked in at midnight, i was shocked. barely a western russian to be seen except the odd old heifer. all kyrgies and khazaks. no flippers no cis (never were many though) no anybody really, the place half empty. never have i seen regal not to have a single cutie in there, when i think of some of the great lasses from the past, from uzbekistan, dagistan, russia. thjis was bad news indeed. when things did not not warm up i popped back to york and took heaven home, just for the sake of doing something whilst in dubai.<br>
now, i don't mind africans as long as they are quite open, really honest, and very cheerful. heaven fitted the bill. this petite, cute faced, smiley girl with the part thai ancestry, was quite open about the fact that her service was honestly fairly shit, and she was very cheerful about it. so with that in mind i took her home for some exercise.<br>
i can report the al bustan rotana is still gf. although the first thing heaven said when she got to my room was 'this shit hotel'. i didn't think it that bad, but with dubai being so busy i was lucky to get this place at close to $1600 usd for the week! dubai is pricing itself out of the market in all areas if you ask me.<br>
anyway, she quickly stripped off only for me to discover a grossly distorted, troll like little body underneath some cleverly supportive tight fitting jeans. she got on top of me and got herself naturally lubed up by giving herself a barebacked dicky-back ride (not inside of course) whilst asking 'so how many sons do you have?). if the whole scenario was not so surreally humorous i could have been offended, but it is certainly a 'deflationary' experience. the real erection-killer for me was the dreadful tuna-stink of her natural juices as she got excited and slimed me. the rotten-fish smell of bacterial vaginosis affects many girls who can't get access to simple medical care, and whereas harmless to men, it really puts me off. this was no exception. so i made some excuse, and determined to make a success of it i went and popped my fast acting bad-girl-scenario rescue pills. i cam back and made small talk with 'heaven' that went like this. 'what's your real name' i say. 'heaven, but its really in my language ' geanette' which translates to heaven'. oh i say, i think 'jeanette' is probably closer. heaven is not really a name in english. 'no' she says. i like heaven. so after a while of this i eventually think naughty thoughts and she is there like magic with the condom. lets be quick, she says. i need to get back to my boyfriend. (spelled p-i-m-p i suspect). but i soldier on. after a few positions i get onto the missionary, finish position, and looking forward to getting her the hell out of my room, she puts her feet behind her head, making the perfect imitation of a small round, brown tub of jelly-like lard. sex was over for me, i wanted her gone.<br>
not to be deterred though. she said, 'you want to make me happy? ' as she placed my left hand between her legs. i was worried about how i would ever get the stink off my hands, but i went for it anyway, ever the gentleman that i am. what followed was the best acted, false-orgasm scene since 'when harry met sally' and when she got to the finish, she went curiously rigid with a huge 'cat that got the cream' expression on her face. she went catatonic and rigid and would not talk for at least a minute. finally, fearing she had had a stroke or something she started talking again. she started at me and proceeded top rescue the whole situation by reciprocating with a manual happy finish for me. cheerful to the end, i could not hate her, at least i got my laughs in at the experience. i gave her the required 600, plus 20 for the taxi and she left. happy as larry.<br>
there was a time when dubai was full of desperate, easy to fall in love with, blonde russian stunners, working in cyclone, working in the shopping malls. sometimes a bit crazy, often a complete wate of time, but almost always good service, staying lt (what validity does that term have these days) and not touching the money till the morning.<br>
somehow, they have all gone now. just stanis and flippers. the beautiful girls in dubai have gone, from the shops, the metro, the hotels and the bars. i germany, the fkk scene has blossomed, with the best lookers you can imagine all lined up naked at 50 euros a shot, controlled with typical tutonic efficiency. i think that will now be my mongering sestination of the future.<br>
i still like dubai. i will still occasionally visit these old mongering joints in hope of a good experience. however dubai as a mongering destination is now a joke. and i suspect that's what the authorities wanted all along. the sub 1000 dhs lookers are a thing of yester year.
