Go-Go boredom
When I agreed to head to Pang Pong, a district notorious for go-go bars, ping pong shows and lady-boys (transvestites), I thought I was headed for a land of sultry, pornographic sexual excess. What I found was bored women on stage in uniforms who looked more like minimum wage employees trying half-heartedly to look busy than, well, go-go-prostitutes. At least the lady-boys were all they were cracked up to be.
The first bar we went to was laid out with a stage in the middle, about 2m x 10m with poles every meter or so on each side. Along the stage are stools, behind that tables, and behind that an elevated bar with a bench behind it, on each side. We ordered some (over-priced) beer and sat down.
Every woman in the club wore a standard uniform with a slight variation. Grey/blue plaid skirt, think school uniform, and white blouse. The girls cycling on and off of the stage wore skirts short enough they don’t really count as skirts, and blouses tied up to expose the mid section. They also wear numbers on round plastic plaques a little bigger than a silver dollar. The non-stage women wear normal short skirts, and normal blouses. They were the servers.
It’s an interesting contrast to the strip clubs I’m more familiar with. In Oregon, everyone is expected to pay to see naked women dance, no touching allowed and certainly no sex. (At least not over the table) It’s roughly the opposite at this club. Men who are shopping go up to the bar can touch the women, but do not tip or see any nudity. If they choose, they can take a woman home with them.
The women on stage reminded me of a cattle auction. The tags look like the ones that are clipped into the ears of steer being sold. It was much more degrading than I expected. The women all looked bored and/or sad with a few exceptions, and from what I could tell they only earn money if their services are purchased. The only interested customers were three men all fixated on one woman, whose ankles they continuously touched, occasionally reaching higher. She danced very enthusiastically. When the song ended and the new dancers cycled onto the stage she went down to sit with them. At this point we were leaving, so I can only imagine where that led.
All in all, it was about the least sexy I could have imagined the scene being. We had our one drink, a good laugh, took a picture (how could I resist) and moved on to a tourist-filled dance club.
This club was much more fun, an open-air bar with a live DJ. We had a drink, danced for a bit, and ended up milling about out o the street. Up and down the street there was no shortage of winking, waving lady-boys, often convincing enough to keep the eyes of straight men for quite a while. Before long, we had a tuk tuk driver ready to take us to another club a ways off, for free. How could we resist?
A Tinker in Thailand 