Then, because you only have a little money on you, when you hand it over she says it's not enough and starts crying. Don't you just hate that feeling? Isn't it just awkward for everyone involved? Just when you thought you were pimping....
Perhaps this kind of thing doesn't happen to many people too often. However It just seems that every GOD DAMN MOTHER FUCKING TIME I go to south east Asia, I end up in some fucked up situation where a hooker is crying in front of me. This is happening way too often. I'm not down with this shit. Not my scene at all. Forget about it. I guess it is fair to say that hookers have feelings too. I mean, of course they do, like everyone else, but them being 'pros' and all, you would think they would behave more, I dunno.... professionally? Like, for one, announce they are a hooker before any sexual transactions have been made.
So here's the story from the top.
I was in Thailand amidst a very hectic course of work, study, work, study, study. I was a walking zombie with eyes falling out of my head from sheer exhaustion. God knows I didn't appear as the dashing lad I usually am, but these things happen and I was sure that at least I didn't look like our contact in Thailand who shall be named 'Jabba' for his likeness to the starwars character 'Jabba the hut' who by his own admission does very well with the local ladies. He had decided to take me to a go-go bar with the "hottest chicks", "all" of whom are "down to fuck". You may notice a lot of "quotation marks" in the previous sentence. Yeah.. about that...
He lead the way down the street, the heaving mass of a man, at a very slow pace. One step. Followed by the next step. Slowly. His sides jiggling with small beads of perspiration coming to his forehead, sunken shadowed eyes searching and seeking outward. Hungry yet somehow self-content. Like a man before a banquet at ease knowing the feasts are to come yet he is still hungry.
"Yeah, basically I've fucked every girl in this bar. Gwar haar haha!" His self content chuckle showing the gaps in between each of his skinny baked bean teeth, blackened from his daily surplus of 8-12 cups of starbucks coffee. Yet as quickly as those tic-tac teeth made an appearance, so again they go into hiding. "I'm definitely getting laid tonight no matter what." A grumble, more than a statement. Apparently his wife no longer puts out and thus he hits up whores every other day of the week. Such is the fate of many marriages of men whom I've encountered in my travels.
My sentiments were similar. I really just wanted to get laid. Sex heals so many wounds, relieves stress, and lets a person have a solid night of sleep. I needed it for my health. That and chicks are hot so I like to fuck them. Lolz. Anyway we walk in to a bar with a stage in the center with 3-4 girls in bikinis dancing. A few middle to upper aged overweight guys sat around the place and some girls beside them. I looked out of place and felt out of place. I always do when I go into that sort of establishment. I hope that feeling of unease never leaves me. When I get too comfortable there, I'll know it as a sign that I have given up. We order drinks and Jabba starts talking. "Yeah, basically all these girls here I've had before. Hahaha." To paraphrase, 'I'm the man cause I can fuck hookers.' Nice one pimp...
"That one over there gives great head. She there has the most amazing body but puts no effort into her performance. Just kinda lays there. This waitress, man, I'd love to hit it so bad, but these waitresses won't get taken home."
I notice a chick that is really my type and Jabba doesn't seem to know her. We gets to the talking and it is her first day back in the bar after taking a year off for an extended holiday. She went back to her hometown to avoid running into her ex-boyfriend who was a cheating bastard that had sex with other girls behind her back. She got so angry and worked up about it she just had to leave. Now she was back. How do I know all this? Because she told me within the first five minutes of meeting her. How does a hooker maintain a relationship with a guy when she is fucking other dudes every other day of the week for money, but he can't do the same? I have no fucking idea. She was dampening my already zombified state with her incessant trash talk. I was not down to listen to any love drama crap.
Then she turned the conversation on me. "What about you? What about your wife? Your girlfriend?"
"Actually, I'm pretty single right now."
"I don't believe. You such lie. You cheat man. You lie you no have girlfriend."
"Like, I said, single."
"Really? Lie. I don't like the man he come and lie and come pay for girl and have girlfriend and lie. You lie. You have girlfriend and you lie me." Her angry eyes beam anger at me.
Of all the repetitive conversation threads I go through when I meet girls, this is the one I hate most. The novelty of an English language learner making grammatical errors slightly different to the errors I'm used to hearing make it no more easy to swallow. Shut up with the accusations already. You are fucking with my chill.
"I'm single OK. I don't want to hear this now. I just want to drink beer, and get laid. In that exact order."
She chills out and we return to normal conversation until she has to dance. After which she comes back and hangs out. It feels like we are almost starting to get along and I ask this hooker if she is down to hang out with me back at my hotel and she declines telling me to come back tomorrow. That last sentence one more time in case you just read over it quickly. The hooker declines going to my hotel with me. She declined. The hooker declined sex.
I WAS REJECTED BY A HOOKER.
TOTAL HOOKER REJECTION TO THE MAXXXX!
Now, they say that rejection makes a man stronger. With all the rejection I have been through I should be really fucking tough. And indeed, this really didn't hurt me as much as it should, but still...WTF? How does a guy get rejected by a hooker?
As a man who is constantly in struggle with his overbearing ego, this made me feel, quite oddly enough, really alive. And I attest this to every man out there, you truly have not lived until you have traveled to a foreign country, learned a foreign language, picked up, dated, had a relationship with a rich fashion model, lived the heights of passion romance lust and love, lost her, lived in depression fucking anything that moves, recover to find a new love, get your life and your career on track, think that things are taking a turn for the best then get rejected the fuck out of town by a hooker. You haven't lived at all until you have done that. Do all that, then we will be on the same page and will be able to understand one another. There really is nothing like getting your ego slammed the fuck down by a hooker who would rather not fuck you after all you think you are worth. It will really show you a new limit to the spectrum of ego destruction.
Jabba, the fat hut, so kindly interjects my self reflection, "Dude, did you just get rejected by a hooker? Wow... In all my years here I've NEVER seen ANYONE get turned down by any of the girls in this bar... BWARRR HAAARRR HAAAAR HAAAR HAAAAAaaaaarrr...grrrrrr.....Gooooby gaaagaa nook... Gluk en glarr.... I'm Jabba the fat cunt.... I laugh in your face...."
Shuttup. shuttup. shuttup. shuttup!
Chump.
He ends up taking a chick to a short stay hotel and gives her two solid strokes before he ejaculates. And on her way goes the girl with her cash and a generous tip after a solid 30 seconds of work. Interestingly, he claims that he is very popular with girls at the bars around town despite his gollem appearance, and does much better than thinner guys like me. I'm guessing his low demanding sex is one of the factors leading into it. It seems that the female inhabitants of this country desperate for cash pander to dudes who look more willing and in need of handing over cash for sex. His coolness is based on their poverty. Go dude.
***************************************************************
A few weeks later when things had cooled down with the study and we were finally on break my notorious drummer and I were walking in a street with a ton of bars and a girl emerges from one and grabs me by the arm and pulls me in, pushes me to the couch, and jumps onto my lap and starts rubbing her tits in my face. Son, I am down with this. I am down, like a clown, without a frown. She straddles me and gyrates on my junk while pulling her dress top back to reveal more breast. She is short, with bigass booty, long wavy hair and lashes. Light colored skin and red lips. Having just been accosted into a bar, the girl starts kissing me. I feel slightly pimp, and slightly on edge since my buddy is watching this all go down, along with a bar full of people. She pulls her top aside to reveal her whole breast an instructs me to suck. I oblige however reluctant and awkwardly. She tells me she hasn't fucked for three weeks cause she went back to her hometown so now she is uber horny and wants to fuck.
Man this is happening so fast even for me. Srsly. I need a drink. We smash a couple of shots and a beer and she tells me that we should go upstairs to hang out. I'm certain that there is a price involved in this little upstairs rendezvous yet still I'm down. Up we go to a room where she hurriedly instructs me to remove all my clothes quickly. The romance dies. Not that there ever was any anyway, but things are less flowing and more being forced.
She starts blowing me. I get hard. She cuts the foreplay short after 30 seconds and quickly puts a condom on me and starts fucking. Things just go real shit from here. I can't feel the sex through the thick condom skin and the vibe is all weird. I'm feeling less dominant and more dominated. I'm not into it anymore. I start losing my hardness. I'm going soft. She looks at me like I fucked up big time. And changes position, smacking my ass telling me to fuck quicker and harder. Performance anxiety kicks in and I'm going from erect to semi erect. She notices and *yells* at me.
"Why he go to sleep? He not like? Huh? He too drunk? You drunk? You drink too much now he go to sleep? OK, we try one more then stop."
My cock is called 'he'. Hahaha nice.
She turns around and places a hand on the wall while standing with her ass out at me. I start hitting it from behind, but son, I just wasn't into it. I was no longer down with slutty McWhoreface Yellalot. I'm sorry. I want to be rock solid penis pimp dude, 24/7, but arousal doesn't work like that. The situation was a little too quick and intense, even for me. She turns around and says it's over and starts getting fucking pissed off.
"We Thai girls like the ice cream. We want to see the ice cream and lick the ice cream. I want to see your ice cream. He no hard." She gestures to my cock. "He no feel good. No fun. You go." She points to the door.
And thus concludes the fastest romantic encounter of my life. What the fuck was that? I was semi hard for a while there. Don't I get points for being semi? Goddamn! No one appreciates a semi erect penis like they used to! What in the fuck is this world coming to? If she slowed down for moment there it would have been fine. Whatever.
I leave, with my head hung shamefully low. My pants covering it of course.
Get it? Penis.... Head... low....
yeeeeeeaaaaaah.
I call up my buddy. "Yo wassup? Where you at? Lets bail on this sketchy scene." And we bike it across town to a reggae bar where some European tourists are dancing alongside a Thai band playing Jamacan music. Quite the scene. We settle in to some heavy drinking and dancing and hop to various other bars and hit on chicks until I find a hot little bad girl who seems into me. We dance for a while, but she is a bit nuts and out of control. She leaves every now and then to dance up on some random guys, who all in turn, try to grab her and pull her away from me. But she *punches* these guys... feisty (!), then comes back to me to dance really close, cheek to cheek style. The guys seem pissed off, but don't really seem invested enough to bother doing anything about it. The cycle continues for some time.
Eventually she tells me that she is going to the toilet. I say cool. Then she tells me that we are going to the toilet. I say cool. Then she grabs my hand and pulls me out of the club, across the street to another club, where I get taken by the hand into the toilet. She hikes up her skirt in front of me and starts to sit down but suddenly tells me to stop looking. I turn my head, for about 5 seconds, then turn back cause she is asking me questions. Where am I from? How long am I staying, etc. I answer her questions whilst watching her urinate. Word. She gets off the toilet, washes her hands and starts making out with me. We are interrupted by banging on the door. Outside people are lined up waiting and I have a sheepish expression on my face.
We decide we are going to leave but she keeps making phone calls to some guy, asking him where he is. What is he doing? And why doesn't he come to our location? I'm not particularly enjoying the thread that conversation is on, but there is little I can do about it so I let it roll. After several weird calls in between bouts of drinking and dancing it seems the guy isn't coming. She is angry. We head to my place. We get in the door. My pants are on the floor, her mouth is on my junk. A condom emerges, some t-back underwear departs... Her phone is in her left hand with my cock in her right. She has dialed and made it through to the guy from earlier who I can only guess is her boyfriend and she is now shouting down the phone.
"Where are you?! Are you with girls?! Having sex? Yeah?! Does it feel good?! I hope it does! FUCK YOU!!!" She throws the phone down and jams my cock into her pussy. We fuck like there's a war happening outside and we could all die tomorrow.
The aftermath is despairing. That's when she brings forth talk about wanting money I don't have. Like I said, she started crying...then passed out on my chest. I guess it hurts to have the guy you are after leave you. Even when you try to get back at him by fucking some random foreigner it doesn't really solve anything. Especially when you want to get money for it and he doesn't have any...
We sleep, and as they say, time heals all wounds. Some time later her hands are on my junk and we are fucking again. Then again. Then again in the morning. And again after a shower. Actually, I think this girl is pretty cool and maybe I'm starting to like her. Perhaps hookers aren't the only ones with feelings. Am I growing some too?
