We ventured farther away from the safety of Nana Plaza, a few blocks deeper into the neighborhood and around a few corners. The tall Thai ladyboy dragged me at a frantic pace past the freelance prostitutes working the neighborhood. Only hours ago they schemed from every angle for my attention; now, I was invisible — no longer a valuable mark.
The labyrinth of small alleyways called ‘sois’ got narrower and more confusing with each turn we made. My heart raced faster with each step as the streets around us got quieter and more intimate. We made another turn onto the smallest soi yet. Panicking, I looked for anything to denote our location as I got pulled along the narrow sidewalk. The city oftentimes transcribed road signs into English, but I couldn’t locate one, not here. I was well-and-truly lost.
My companion stopped abruptly at one of the local ‘spirit houses’ constructed atop the already cramped sidewalk. They served as homes for ghosts and spirits native to the area. The marble top was adorned with bottles of red Fanta. Straws were inserted into the bottles’ openings, apparently improving accessibility for the ghosts. An offering to the gods.
She put her palms together. She prayed.
Clearly part of her routine. Did she do this with every customer or was I special? Was I worthy of this prayer? How would her gods view me on such quick investigation? Prostitutes and area residents alike decorated and made offerings at spirit houses like these. I hadn’t ever given them much thought. This night changed that.
I wondered what she prayed for each night. Was it for continued beauty? Success? Perhaps it was for safety from the random, potentially dangerous farangs she dragged past this shrine several dozen times per week?
I still think about her prayer sometimes. I still don’t know what she prayed for, and I know that I’ll never find out.
After what was both the longest and the shortest walk of my life, we arrived at a small hotel nestled between two other innocuous-looking businesses. It was that special kind of Thai inconspicuous, the kind that screamed ‘don’t look here’. It was dimly lit by harsh white fluorescence.
Upon arrival, there was a quick flurry of Thai between my companion and the tired old man working the front desk. He smiled softly to himself after receiving far too much money. First from me, then from her. It was an arrangement I would come to see more of in the future.
Between the three of us was a clear understanding as we finished settling up. I had paid for the room for only two hours, and nobody in their right mind would choose to sleep here. I was going to fuck this strange ladyboy in his dump before we all parted ways. He went back to whatever he was doing on his phone. I wondered how many times they had met before.
We entered the dirtiest hotel room I had ever seen. It was the type of place you merely rented from the cockroaches — the humans their tolerated guests. She sat down on the edge of the bed and it was right down to business. She used her clumsy English to command me into the shower.
Worried about certain types of robbery attempts I had read about before I arrived, I insisted that she shower along with me. She refused, further aggravating my anxiety and setting off some alarm bells.
I wasn’t in control of this room, though. She insisted she would shower after me. She turned back to her phone without a flicker of interest. Not even curious about the uncertain dick that would soon enter her body. One of many, I suppose.
I hurried through my shower. I washed the most important parts before stepping out of the shower and back into the room. I grabbed one of the towels and tied it tightly around my waist before returning to check my wallet.
She wore nothing but a slightly confused face. The silence in the room only broken by the tired air conditioner squealing in the background. The lack of warmth in the room was not a function of the aging machine.
She opened the translator app and typed into her phone quickly. She questioned whether my momentary shower was thorough enough. I brushed off her concern with a simple ‘yes’ before sitting down on the bed beside her, still wearing the off-white towel. Reaching towards me, she put her hand on it and pulled at it. I looked down at her hands before reluctantly helping her.
The confusion on her face gradually dissipated as we got closer to sex. Why had I been wearing it? Was I embarrassed to be here, in this room, with her? The answer was a resounding ‘yes.’ She typed again into the translator app and turned the phone towards me.
“You like dick?” she asked.
To me the question was the reason I was in the room. I suspect it was a question she was paid to help answer often. The only real questions she had for me this night were purely logistical ones. She needed to know what she would actually be doing for the next twenty or so minutes.
The earlier question had asked what I was. This one asked what I wanted. I had come to Nana Plaza because I did not entirely trust my own answer to either. The bar, the girl, the hotel and the money had formed an elaborate experiment: a way of forcing my body to answer before my mind could interfere.
“…I don’t know,” I replied.
She smiled slightly and reached towards me.
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