07. Emperor of pleasure in Farawayistan

In amazement, we looked at the huge pizza box under my seat. Entering a Boeing with that looks undoubtedly hilarious; unfortunately, we were too late to see it happen. Luckily a piece of cardboard broke the ice between us; quite nice when you sit shoulder to shoulder for hours. I was waffling and exchanging stories with my English neighbor for the whole flight. Once we arrived in Thailand, Jack suggested misbehaving together. Sounds good, deal! I actually saw Phuket as a stepping-stone to another island, but okay. I decided to stick around with my fresh travel buddy because of our click. All right, surprise me… okay, maybe not. I had a clear image of Phuket and it turned out to be that way: insane levels of mass-tourism, hundreds of places with the same souvenirs or services and pushy folks in a gigantic open-air circus. Not a place I would normally go to, this exception better be worth it. After all, you cán learn a lot from the unusual if you give it a fair chance.

We thought we deserved a beer. Just because. As a potential alcoholic, I’d found a worthy partner in crime, so a single pint was just a starter. That man was so thirsty, unbelievable. After we washed away our stash, we staggered down the main street. The shiploads of whores, tempered hotheads and roaring groups of foreigners were quite characteristic. Even with my drunken stupor, I realized perfectly well where I was: a tropical microcosm filled with utter madness. This is a place where every Jackass with some savings can – and does – go crazy. So let me be weird, that’s totally fine here. I stayed clear by bending without breaking. In other words: I put my face on ‘have a free look’ signs, I was the (overly happy) volunteer with multiple street artists and answered the ‘where-do-you-want-to-go’ questions with the most impossible places. These pranks provided us some amusement and entertainment. Jack suddenly suggested visiting a strip club, something I had never done before. With hesitant curiosity, I agreed.

As guys in our twenties, we were among the youngest men in the club – the average age of the (male) visitors was triple of the strippers’, in my estimation. Some gents went for it; willing hands got their hands on various sensitive spots. Literally, the first thing I saw was an old bloke enthusiastically rubbing a young chick’s panties. Ah, right. After two minutes, I regretted my decision to go inside. Let’s get the hell out of here. Jack left as well after some insisting. “What about a Ping-Pong show then?” Go for it, but I’m off. I’ve seen enough animal instincts, although there was no escape from it on the street. Several hookers grabbed me where they could, including my privates. Initially, I wanted to report this male-groping to the police. Never mind, it’s just a waste of time. Near my hotel, another ‘stripper’ managed to grab my hands. She looked at me with innocent puppy eyes. Oh, what an Asian Sensation. You’ve lost your innocence a long time ago, we all know that. It’s understandable that she tried with a young man – that seems a bit easier to bang than someone who could be her grandfather. In all honesty, she looked really fit. Also not unimportant: she probably turns a big corkscrew in the hardest rods with her extensive experience. All in all, the outcome of this scenario was fairly certain: an empty wallet, premature ejaculation and blushed face that comes with it.

I have no experience with paid sex and I decided to leave it that way after a few doubtful seconds. Renting a body without the exciting game of gradual seduction? Not my thing. I didn’t see a piece of juicy fuck-flesh, but an equal person of soul, feelings and emotions. What’s her background, her fight for survival? Countless stories aren’t told, hers included. There are prostitutes who practice the ‘world’s oldest profession’ without financial/external pressure and entirely voluntarily – which is their decision. But I dare to claim with certainty that this girl doesn’t belong to this group, nor does most of her colleagues in Asia, the Red Light District or elsewhere. In all probability, it won’t get up with such insincere interaction and build-in inequality anyway. That’s why I kept my money in my pocket, like a proper miser. Luckily, given the size of the market, others don’t bother. Isn’t that great? Money has to be spent, money has to be made. Economy lost, calamity born!

Once in bed, the situation bothered me to no end. Am I a perverted creep, a hypocritical moralist or ‘just’ a typical man with hormones? How come I ran away and still felt a short-lived temptation? Well, maybe this sensitive man thinks too much. Just get laid already, what else is there to do? Maybe the meaning of life is simply banging, getting banged or – for the eager among us – both. There are plenty of possibilities: out of love, reproduction, looking for something you can’t find in yourself or fucking away the pain of the big nothingness in exhausting positions. That can be done in a hasty, hard, tender, desolate, distant, intrusive, desperate or whatever fashion. So much choice, the easy situation of asexuals is envious. My mind was still spinning when Jack sneaked into the hotel room. While I was pretending to be asleep, he silently snuck into his bed. Sleep tight. Who knows, he might give her a creampie. Or maybe I was simply blind; that ‘woman’ could be a lady-boy with a massive boner. I didn’t know and I didn’t want to know. At least I knew one thing for certain:

Count me out for another safari through the emptiness of instant gratification and limitless indulgence.

> Click here for an overview if you’re eager for more stories <

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