The Inquisitor in Bangkok nightlife

The Inquisitor's consort has reached the limits of her benevolence. Wandering for hours with a farang that walks way too fast in hot-humid Bangkok is not really what the average native likes to do. With pleasure he accepts her suggestion to be lazy for a while in the hotel room, nice and air-conditioned.

He ignores the fact that the television – an object refused by the Inquisitor in the Isan bedroom – turns on immediately. The croaking, the annoying sound effects, the artificial laughter and other Thai television things don't bother him, just ask if the telephone alarm is activated and we both fall asleep. He with the idea of ​​waking up well rested within two hours, she with a mysterious smile.

The Inquisitor dreams of the old days. When he invaded completely unknown Thailand and conquered Bangkok. Walk on Silom Road to Patpong. Worried about sweating. Where he disappointingly stumbled upon a brightly lit market before noticing the GoGos. So much so that it became a difficult decision – where do I enter?

And then saw his first beauties on stage. All ladies with a number somewhere on the small textile, for the time being no idea for what. Sitting too long staring at the same sultry moving lady who then just like that, immediately after her dance, joins him. Drinking a drink, whispering sweet nothings. Loose hands. Twenty-five years ago, the Inquisitor believed he was a handsome man.

The dream continues, another GoGo, same story, the Inquisitor is quickly experienced. Not one, but two, three ladies with him. The portfolio was not yet affected by banking and Euro crises. And is he just as touchy as those beauties without hesitation, although he is often bored with the watching couples who also drop in to see how things are going.

So the Inquisitor ends up just about everywhere, the upper floors with show, Patpong2, he goes adventurous towards Soi NaNa, Soi Cowboy. To see over the years it all become more commercial depending on the government on duty how far the operators can go to entice customers. To notice that it is actually always the same and not really what the Inquisitor considers the ultimate in relaxation despite the attention of so many beautiful women.

Only hours later is the Inquisitor awakened. It's 21pm, Bangkok-by-night sparkles through the room's panoramic window. Nondejee. Laughing, his great love disappears into the bathroom, which is mentally ready for a night out.

An hour and a half later we take a taxi to “Shock39”. A discotheque that can attract enough people fairly early, the girlfriend reports. How this institution became known completely eludes the Inquisitor. In the middle of a desolate neighborhood full of closed shops, the upper floors seem to have been empty for years.

But light and noise suggest that the party is already underway. Queue, undergo a body check, pay, stamp on the hand and two free consumption vouchers that later turn out to be valid only for ladies.

And again, a variety of nationalities. Tourists, young and full of life. Surprisingly many couples. Very loud music that makes all conversation difficult - for yours truly farang, the girlfriend is already in full conversation with old acquaintances. The Inquisitor goes to observe.

Thai ladies looking for companionship. Russian ladies also looking for group tourists who party. Couples whose women keep a close eye on their various men because they are amazed. Going crazy, well, they look like Turks, or Ukrainians, or somewhere from Central Asia. But everything on western music. And many men, with friends or alone. Stare, lure. Bingo! Contact. Usually it only takes about ten minutes and there is a result. Either the girl disappears back to the dance floor, or they leave together to other places.

However, the whole thing can no longer charm us after a while, moreover, this was only a little imbibing, my dear apparently wants to do it the Thai way. And see, we don't need a taxi. We can go with her old friends. After all, the Inquisitor, established as he is, has paid the price.

To the “Route66”. Much to the Inquisitor's delight, the company opts not for the Thai live band but for the dance hall. The light effects are not inferior to Western technology, the choice of music is good. Much more Thai than foreigners here. Who act just as crazy, seduce, decorate, bluff, act tough. But always with a smile. And the Inquisitor takes great pleasure in the fact that his wench is having a great time, meeting old girlfriends and friends, feeling good. And above all: our group is falling apart because her Thai friends have discovered something interesting and my bill is getting softer. Midnight is well past before we want to continue.

The “Sugar”, a hip-hop club. Again the same formalities to enter, again worthless free drink coupons. No problem, my wife immediately buys a bottle – a sign that we are going to stay here for a long time, the Inquisitor suspects.

But we both like hip-hop music, the sound level is tolerable or it's because the speakers hang far above our heads. The club is big, you can get lost through the two open floors that are connected through a kind of mazes. And people, many people. Experienced as he is, the Inquisitor sees a lot of beauties here who work as a kind of freelancer. That is, going on the decorating tour. Dressed sexy, without exception all tipsy enough to have no hesitation anymore.

So the clientele is there too. Men looking for. Tourists, working expats, wealthy foreigners. Nice to see. Less fun because people also start to consider their girlfriend as a freelance when she is tipsy enough to go dancing. Nice because the real freelancers don't care that the Inquisitor already has company. Really nice because we are both tolerant of each other and enjoy everything.

At 4 a.m. the hassle stops, obligatory. Odd hour, but the Inquisitor's brain is already on the wane from the alcohol. And we respond to a request from insiders to go to an “after-party”. Diagonally opposite this club. You don't notice it, no neon, no noise, no doormen. They are at the top of the floor, they look like mafiosi.

Such a high entrance fee that makes the Inquisitor doubt. But his wife insists: 'you have to do this, you want to see this'. And once inside, after a very extensive check, you no longer have to pay for your drinks. Most of them are already full. Or have other plans. Very many Thai, very few foreigners and those few are mostly African Americans.

It is quite dark here, small spots in blue and green barely give enough light. A jumble of sitting areas with large sofas, a dance floor that is only lit through the floor. Sultry music with a slow tempo with soft rocking dancing.

We both hang close to each other because there seem to be greedy hands floating around, both pussycat feminine and sturdy masculine. Exciting actually, erotic. We walk through the complex and see couples acting on the sofas as if they were private rooms, they only have eyes for each other and hardly for the surroundings.

There are four lockable rooms, the intoxicated Inquisitor and girlfriend even get the proposal to take a seat there together with four others. For a moment the Inquisitor considers doing it but, no, too much to drink, I'm out of control.

And to my question “how do you know all this?” the Inquisitor gets that beautiful but mysterious oriental smile in return. And that these kinds of after parties take place everywhere. Daily. And that she once had a friend who knew all this… The sun is long gone when we finally go back to the hotel.

Thailand? Bangkok? Culture? Sanuk? The Inquisitor will never understand. But it was fun. Patpong and others don't need him anymore.

And he pulls up to Isaan after a much-needed recuperation day. To enjoy nature, the house, the silence.

Until it tickles and the lust is there again. In all senses of that word.

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