Everyone I know who’s ever been to Thailand has been to Patpong. So while my real goal was to see The Reclining Buddha only because it was the backdrop of Sagat’s battles in Street Fighter II, I, along with Uni-Horned Beef Jerky Alanis Whore, Kruskalwallis, and Zangief thought, while walking aimlessly during our second night in Taft Avenue, I mean Bangkok: We should definitely go to Patpong and watch one of those… shows!

Zangief asked for directions, and when we finally got there hordes of seedy men and women showed us laminated cards of the shows and their features (you know the sort: that it could spit out a pingpong ball, it could grab a pen and write, it could light a cigarette with a lighter, etc.) Of course we knew it would cost more than the consumable 100 Baht the guys were peddling, of course they were tricking us, of course we would say ick and gross and be ripped off in the end, and we almost chickened out, but at this point we declared that we would never ever go back to Thailand ever so we said: WHAT THE HECK!

“Mukang may anay,” Kruskalwalis whispered as we trudged along the broken, oily-sticky leather couch. Two performers were already in the middle. They looked dazed and wretched as if they’ve been doing this routine for years on end. One rammed a stick up hers and used it to make sungkit rings which she tossed into a basket. The four of us sheepishly chugged down our drinks. There were only two other customers, until I noted something: they looked bored as fuck and they had flash lights on their tables. Obviously not customers. The realization hit us: WE WERE THE ONLY CUSTOMERS!

Second performer reached for halved bananas and rammed them up hers. She positioned herself in front of us, and popped the banana out of her wrinkly candidaed cavern with an audible “WHOOOOOSH!” The banana flew violently across the room and hit my ipad bag. “GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” I screamed. At this point we decided it was time to leave.

As we were leaving the one hundred bahts each, the fake customers from the other seats stood up and accosted us along with two other huge women. All four women showed us a huge sheet of paper with an encircled “5,200 baht”. We said we have no money. Like giant automated androids they all screamed in unison, “5,200 BAHT! 5,200 BAHT! 5,200 BAHT!!!!” There was no way in hell we would pay that, but we also knew they could very well maul us having no other customers around, so we forked in a few extra bills and ran the hell out.

“AHAHAHAAH AHAHAHAAH AHAHAHAHHA” we all nervously laughed as we ran away from the harrowing grottiness of it all. Incensed we went to a nearby ice cream shop, Swensen’s. “Uy o we can share this banana split,” I said. “I WILL NOT! EAT! BANANAS!” Kruskalwalis glowered. We walked for a good thirty minutes allowing the polluted air to dilute the kadiriness of it all, and just as we thought we have somehow gotten over it, I noticed something while we were sitting in the park.

“Uy o,” I told Kruskalwalis as I pointed at a white stain on my bag where it was hit by the banana. “Stain nung banana na galing sa….”
“GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Kruskalwalis caterwauled.

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