'The bill in the dark'
The air in Bangkok felt thicker than usual that night. The kind of air that clings to you, nestles in your pores and never lets you go. Huub, a man of the world, stepped into the small alley with a curiosity that he still hadn’t lost in his sixties. A vibrant city like Bangkok could be anything: a dream, an adventure, or a fall. It was the latter that he hadn’t experienced yet, at least not consciously.
The Last Smile. The bar radiated an unmistakable darkness. The flashing neon letters above the entrance were more reminiscent of a warning than a welcome. But Huub, with his tanned skin and sharp, inquisitive gaze, walked in. He knew that this was not a place where tourists usually lingered. And that was exactly what attracted him.
Inside, the atmosphere was ominously strange. The interior had something of a dim decor, as if every detail played a part in an invisible play. The walls were covered with photos of smiling faces, but upon closer inspection, the people's eyes were empty. Huub felt a slight shiver down his spine, but he laughed to himself. He was here for a story. And stories always found him.
He sat down at the bar. The barman, a small man with a face like the crack of a tree, looked at him without saying anything. A woman stood beside him, her eyes like snakes, watching him closely.
“A Singha,” Huub said shortly. His voice was calm, but he felt a slight tension in his chest. This was no ordinary bar and the people here were no ordinary regulars. Had he made the wrong choice?
The first beer was placed in front of him without words. The cold of the bottle felt good in the humid heat. Huub let his gaze glide around the room. In the corner sat two men talking, their voices just too low to be understood. At a table further away two women were giggling, their peals of laughter excessively loud. There was something wrong with their laughter, it sounded hollow, as if they didn't believe themselves.
The second beer arrived faster than he expected. “On the house,” the bartender said with a nod. His smile was crooked and not exactly friendly.
Huub nodded back, but something inside him began to gnaw. He drank slowly, observed, listened. The sounds in the bar seemed unnatural, as if they had been orchestrated. Laughter that was timed too perfectly, conversations that stopped abruptly when he looked.
A man sat down next to him at the bar. He was maybe forty, with a weathered face and a smile that was too wide. “Adventurer?” the man asked in a voice that seemed to contain more smoke than words.
“Maybe,” Huub answered shortly. He didn’t like small talk, especially in situations like this.
The man laughed, a sound more like a stuttering engine. “You’ve come to the right place. This is where the city reveals its secrets.”
Huub frowned. “And what exactly are those secrets?”
“It depends on what you’re looking for,” the man said. He leaned in closer. “Or what you think you deserve.”
The words stuck, as if they had more weight than usual. Before Huub had a chance to respond, the bartender put down a third beer. This time without words, without a smile.
“I didn't ask for this beer,” Huub said, his voice calmer than he felt.
“We don’t ask here,” the woman behind the bar replied. Her voice was low, almost a whisper.
The tension crept through the room like invisible smoke. Huub felt the atmosphere change, grow darker. He didn't know how, but he now felt like the center of something. All eyes seemed focused on him, though no one dared to look directly.
“The bill,” he said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence, sharper than he intended.
The bartender slid a sheet of paper toward him. Huub looked at the numbers and felt the ground beneath him seem to tilt.
4.000 baht
He gave a short laugh, a laugh that spoke more of bewilderment than humor. “This has to be a joke.”
“This is not a joke,” the bartender said without emotion. The woman next to him leaned forward. “You enjoyed it, now you pay.”
“I’ve had three beers,” Huub said. His voice was louder than he intended. The men in the corner didn’t look up, but he felt their presence. The women had gone quiet. The whole scene seemed to be contracting, the walls seemed to be closing in.
Another man, a foreigner, came out of the shadows. He had tanned skin and eyes that gave nothing away. He stood next to Huub, his body tense, but relaxed at the same time.
“Just pay,” he said in perfect English. “This is Bangkok. You don’t want any trouble.”
Huub felt his heart beating faster, but he forced himself to stay calm. He had seen enough in his life to know that panic was the enemy.
“Problems? I only see one problem here,” he said with a forced smile. “And that is your math. Do you really think I’m going to pay for this?”
The foreigner leaned toward him. His smile was icy. “You pay now. Or you stay here longer than you want.”
The threat hung heavy in the air. Huub looked at the bill, at the men, at the woman behind the bar. His thoughts raced back and forth. He had to find a way out, do something unexpected.
He laughed. A loud, uncontrolled laugh that echoed through the room. Everyone looked up, surprised. Even the foreigner seemed thrown off balance.
“What a theatre!” Huub said loudly. “You guys are playing this fantastically. A perfect show for a naive tourist, but me? I’m not here for a cheap trick. Come on, guys, I know how this works.”
The silence lasted a long time. Then the foreigner nodded. “Okay, pay half. And leave.”
Huub didn't hesitate. He put the money on the bar, stood up and walked towards the door. His heart was still pounding in his chest, but he kept his back straight. Just before he walked out of the bar, he turned around.
The name The Last Smile is misleading,” he said. “Because it was mine, not yours.”
He stepped out into the night, the city felt different. The trap nearly caught him, but he had escaped. Behind him, the door of the bar closed, as if the chapter had ended. But in his head, the story was still playing, a memory that burned like the neon light above the door.
About this blogger
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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.
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Nice story, luckily I never had the chance to experience that myself 😉
I experienced something like that once in London. I quickly paid the full price because the bouncers were one and a half times as big as me. I think it would be nicer to experience something like that in Thailand, it's less expensive and warmer.
I experienced the same thing years ago in a bar in Bangkok. A quiet Sunday afternoon and I went to Patpong to a happy hour invitation and because I had nothing else to do I went to a 2nd floor where a withered dancer was dancing around a pole apparently very much against her will. After drinking a beer I was totally fed up with this and asked for the bill. 500 bht! When I asked why it was so expensive they said "you saw the show". I didn't want to pay and paid the normal price with the words in the little Thai I knew at the time "Farang mai baba". "Westerner is not crazy". Luckily there were no bodybuilders present to threaten me like I had heard from other Belgians who could pay the full price at the time...
Well, if you get a beer 'on the house' in a bar or anywhere in the Thai hospitality industry, you know you are in a dream or nightmare.