'In the shadows of Bangkok in search of freedom and pleasure'

Ben was sitting in the same bar again. Always the same, as if nothing else existed outside these four walls. His hand rested on the soft thigh of a girl who couldn’t have been older than his own daughter, or maybe even younger. The smell of stale beer, cheap whiskey, and fake perfume seemed to hang over the room like a blanket, like a promise that was never fulfilled. He was 54, but he felt old as light and immortal at the same time. That’s how it was here, in Bangkok. You lost track of time, it cost you more than you ever expected.

The loud music sounded like an endless thump. Something electronic that kept repeating, just like the routines of this huge city. Men from all over the world with lost looks, girls with glued-on smiles, always busy with their own performance. Ben saw how they looked in the mirrors, touched up their lips, fixed their hair, just before they went to a client. Another face, same role.

She walked in as if she had just stepped out of the night itself. Her eyes were still sparkling, her skin had a sheen as if she had just stepped out of a rain shower. She might have been just twenty-two. Her dress was pulled tight over her slender body, and she walked as if she knew everyone was looking at her lustfully. For Ben, it was nothing more than a challenge, a chance to prove one more time that he still had it in him. He gulped down his whiskey, felt the bitter heat in his throat, and gave her a nod. She had to come closer. That was the rule.

“Bee,” she introduced herself, without looking at him.

“Bee?” Ben looked at her with a vague grin. “What’s your real name?”

She shrugged. “Does it matter?” Her voice was a mix of boredom and a gesture toward the door, as if she could walk away at any moment. “Are you going to order me something, or are you going to sit here and stare all night?”

He liked that attitude, that indifference. It made it exciting, like he had to conquer something instead of just buy it. He ordered her a drink, and she sat next to him as if she had been in his life for years. As if she knew what he was looking for, what he had come to that bar to get. The routine unfolded as usual: a few bored looks, a lukewarm dialogue. And then up, to one of the cheap, stuffy rooms above the bar. Clothes on the floor, their quickened breathing in the dark, and then the usual empty feeling that always followed.

But this time it was different. As Ben stood on his feet and gathered his clothes, he felt it. That itch. Sharper this time, more penetrating than usual. He’d been carrying it around for months. It wasn’t just something to scratch away. It burned fiercely inside him, as if his body was fighting back against what he’d done to it. He’d always ignored it, just as he’d ignored everything that was uncomfortable for years. He didn’t come here for reality, he came here for escape.

Back in the bar, he stood with his whiskey in his hand. He looked at Bee, who was already giggling with a new customer, as if he had never existed. To her, he was nothing more than a conduit, a farang who gave her a moment’s escape from the reality of her own life. But all Ben could feel was the incessant burning in his groin. It felt like a warning, a threatening sign that his body would grant him no escape.

He realized that he wasn’t just one of those drunken, debauched Westerners who saw Bangkok as their playground. He had always gone the extra mile, never taken safe sex seriously. But now, now it seemed he was about to pay the ultimate price. His freedom had always come at a price, but he had never imagined it would be his own body that would take the toll.

Ben decided to go to a clinic a week later. Not a fancy hospital with neatly dressed doctors and air conditioning, but an anonymous practice in an alley where no one asked for you and you didn’t have to look the doctor in the eye. When he entered the narrow room, it felt like the walls were closing in, like the air itself was trying to swallow him up. The doctor was an old man with glasses that kept sliding down when he nodded. His voice was soft, almost worried, but the words he spoke cut like a knife. “It’s not just an infection. The STD has spread. Your body is not responding well. Your immune system is severely compromised.”

Ben stared at the white plastic curtain that separated the exam room from the rest of the clinic. For a moment he thought it would close, trapping him in this world of harsh lights and bitter medicine. His life had always felt like an escape, but now there seemed to be no escape.

He thought of the women he had known, the nights he had spent in bars, beds, and drunken voices of laughter. What had it brought him? What had he really gained? A broken body, a future that lay before him like a shadow, and a fear he had never wanted to feel.

As he walked out of the clinic, he felt the Bangkok air burning his skin. Everything around him seemed to shrink suddenly, like a circle that was getting smaller and smaller. The bar beckoned, but now it seemed ridiculous. The women, the booze, the endless nights, it was all just a backdrop, an illusion of freedom that had never existed. He had fooled himself, like all those other men. Thought he was untouchable, a rebel in a city without rules. But now he was nothing more than an old man with a disease that was eating him from the inside out.

He laughed scornfully, but it sounded hollow and empty. Not out loud, but inside. A bitter, sour laugh that made him realize how far he had really gone, and how little there was left to fall back on. Maybe this had always been the end. He had ignored the warnings, pushed his own body to its limits. Now there was nothing left to run to. No more women to save him, no whiskey to ease the burn.

He walked further into the night, but this time it felt different. As if the city itself had finally caught up with him. And for the first time in a long time, he wasn't sure he wanted to walk any further.

About this blogger

Farang Kee Nok

My age officially falls into the category of 'elderly'. I've been living in Thailand for 28 years - try to do that. The Netherlands used to be paradise, but it fell into disrepair. So I went looking for a new paradise and found Siam. Or was it the other way around and Siam found me? Either way, we were good-natured.

ICT provided a regular income, something you call 'work', but for me it was mainly a pastime. Writing, that's the real hobby. For Thailandblog I'm picking up that old love again, because after 15 years of hard work you deserve some reading material.

I started in Phuket, moved to Ubon Ratchathani, and after a stopover in Pattaya I now live somewhere in the north, in the middle of nature. Rest never rusts, I always say, and that turns out to be true. Here, surrounded by greenery, time seems to stand still, but fortunately life doesn't.

Eating, especially lots of it – that’s my passion. And what makes an evening complete? A good glass of whisky and a cigar. That’s about it, I think. Cheers!

Photos, I don't do that. I always look ugly in them, even though I know Brad Pitt pales in comparison. It must be the photographer, I think.

Read the latest articles here

Older posts from this blogger

• CultureDecember 10 2024'Beach vendor in a world where dreams fade and the horizon promises little'
• CultureDecember 8 2024'A society that remains silent about its dark side'
• CultureDecember 6 2024'Twelve rooms and no view of tomorrow'
• CultureDecember 4 2024'A life between steel and silk'