RAWBangkok

To me, he’s been the god of Thailand blog commenters.

Wittier and more well-written than nearly everyone else, with clear thinking and the ability to communicate ideas with just the right level of subtlety (or otherwise) I have, for the past year or more, fairly well worshiped the prolific commenter, Pants Elk.

Last night I had the chance to meet him in person for the first time.

Michael Jordan, Halle Berry, Tiger Woods, Angelina Jolie, Bruce Springsteen and Jimmy Buffet are all people I would like to meet, but I’d say that all of them would come in second to my desire to put a person together with the persona that is Pants Elk.

Its probable that no man can live up to that kind of expectation.  Somehow he did.

We arranged to meet in the middle of a crowded area of Sukhumvit.  A few minutes before the appointed meeting time I saw a tall spare figure who was casually but neatly dressed.  I was confident that this was my guy.

He pulled a mobile phone out of his pocket, and as he pressed the buttons to make the call he looked frankly straight into my eyes.  It was obvious that he had deduced that I was the guy he was looking for, but he continued to dial.

I held my phone up so that it was facing towards him, and each of us had a playful grin on our faces.  When my torasap lit up and started vibrating he smiled broadly, closed his phone and walked over with his hand extended.

Finally I was meeting the master.  We shook hands firmly, like two men who’ve seen the world and can see it in each other.

We chatted just briefly about where we wanted to go.  It was 6:30 in the evening, and we decided to take advantage of the outdoor verandas in Soi Cowboy.  We went to Sam’s 2000 where we ordered a bit of Thai food and two bottles of beer.

The conversation was pretty typical getting-to-know you stuff.  Sharing personal histories and the like.

After dinner we put together a solid go go bar crawl.

If memory serves, it went this way:

Upstairs of Bacarra:  A cute lineup, especially since it was only around 7:30 p.m. but no one that really stood head and shoulders above the rest.

Shark Bar:  A broader range of girls.  One had a nearly perfectly proportioned body and a nice face, but no one showed that star quality that makes you thrilled that you came in this bar tonight.

Shebas:  I think we went into Shebas.  If we did, it made no impression on me at all.

Rawhide:  Arrived at about 9 p.m. and the C-team had two or three hot girls and one or two grossly fat women.  The B-team was pretty good and the first show — the normal high energy 3-girl routine — had three new girls.  They were a bit more full-bodied than the old team that did this show, but the curves they had were shown off to good effect. I’m guessing that if they continue doing that dance routine every night that the couple of extra pounds they seem to be carrying will melt off anyway.  We actually bought a couple of lady drinks, though I think in the case of both Pants and I it was a reluctant decision.

Five Star:  Just before ten o’clock we moved to Five Star to catch the all nude show.  The girls were, as usual, a very average looking bunch, but very well rehearsed.  Pants and I commented on the fact that when we’d been in Bacarra the entire topless crew upstairs was dancing in a circle — each of them facing in talking to the others — and essentially ignoring all the customers.  It was difficult to see much more than the back of the Bacarra dancers.  This is just poor training and bad management.

The Five Star dancers, however, inferior in looks, had great attitudes, a well-choreographed dance routine, and were lots of fun to watch.

When the show ended, we stayed for a while to listen to the live band play.  Pants seemed to enjoy the music, and especially the skill of the lead guitarist, as much as I always do.

Country Road:  Around 11 p.m. we moved to Country Road.  As always, the band demonstrated limited skill, but the bar has maximum atmosphere.  I always enjoy myself here, and Pants seemed to get into the spirit of things.

At midnight, like Cinderella at the ball, Pants Elk announced that he needed to go, and disappeared in his pumpkin carriage.

I finished the half-jug of beer on the table by myself, then went outside and called my favorite go go dancer.  She arrived at my house just minutes after I got home, and stayed until about five o’clock this afternoon.  (We went to the Park today and enjoyed a lazy afternoon feeding birds, fish and turtles, as well as laying in the grass and staring at the azure blue sky).

I feel confident that Pants Elk had his own happiness pre-arranged last night, so I doubt I was the only one who ended up satisfied at the end of the night.

So what was it like to meet the master?

I guess I was surprised at how mundane and common our discussions were.  Pants is a guy with a lot going on in his brain and in his soul, yet once we were in the gogo bars with the lovely lasses the conversation moved quickly and inevitably to the normal discussions between two guys in a go go bar. We talked about which girl had the best tits, told war stories about memorable Bangkok hookers we’ve known and discussed who we saw that we’d like to have sex with, plus watching the other punters who were often busily enjoying themselves in a drunken stupor completely unconcerned with what anyone else thought of them.

All in all, it was like most other pleasant nights out with a mate in a go go bar.

Baseball fanatics may live out their fantasies by going to Florida to participate in Spring Training Camp.  I went on a go go bar crawl of Soi Cowboy on a Saturday night with Pants Elk.

I was giddy.   I still am.

At one point while we were sitting in Rawhide we were talking about what a useless sack of shit Bangkok Bad Boy is, and it suddenly occured to us that it would be a good idea to call him and invite him to join our party so we could insult him to his face.  Pants dialled BBB’s number, spoke to him, then hung up, reporting in a disgusted voice that BBB had a “date” and would not be coming.

The last time I called BBB from a bar to invite him to join me was on Loi Khratong night a month ago.  He gave me exactly the same answer that night.  The boy needs some new material.

I’m sure that Pants Elk wouldn’t want me to write an entire blog with him as the central focus without mentioning that when we went out he was neatly dressed, had showered, his hair was recently cut and neatly combed, and he was dressed in quality fabrics.  I didn’t specifically ask, but I believe he had used deoderant.  In short, he had brought his personal grooming up to the standard where he was an acceptable customer for the dancing hookers of Soi Cowboy.

IN spite of this he no take lady.

For 5 1/2 hours I was in the presence of the master.  Today I am alone with my own mortality.

I did ask Pants for the secret to his brilliant writing and clear thinking.  He referred me to an interesting website that you may want to take a look at.  It seems to be the source of his concepts or vice versa.

http://skip-this-ad.blogspot.com/

Having read through the quoted site, I am aware that Buddha — the enlightened one — never wanted to be worshiped.  He simply wanted others to seek what he had achieved.

Likewise, I’m sure Pants, who seems to me to be among the most enlightened of blog commenters (a giant rising above the masses), wouldn’ t be comfortable living on the pedestal I have erected for him.  However, that is the burden of the enlightened… they act as a beacon to us mere mortals.

I enjoyed my night out on the ‘boy with Pants, and I look forward to continuing to see his wisdom seeded across the internet, a paragraph or two at a time wherever he chooses to pause for a few moments.

Keep your eyes peeled for his writing, and I’m sure it’ll bring you a few extra smiles to you, and slow nods of quiet agreement from you.