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Re: Khmer Diary
The Next Few Days Pt 2
We popped in a couple of pubs lining both sides of St. 136. 10 to 15 girls in each, and girls surround you before you make your orders. I’ve learned to be careful in the selection less the one which appeals to you escaped your initial scrutiny. Since then, also, I’ve learned also how to subtly reject the one on hand when I see another who appealed, ignore her, or simply move to another pub after a beer.
Candy, the pub we eventually stayed for more than a couple looks just like any of the other pubs except it is a double shoplot. A shoplot is a standard 4x30m. I supposed this is an inheritance from their colonial masters, France, wherein property owners were taxed by the width of the facade.
Passed the door of Candy, there were at least 30+ girls. A quick glance told me boobs are a prerequisite for successful employment and proudly flaunted too by the single-shoulder tight-as-skin low-cut T. A detailed survey, while ignoring the invariable massaging, hands on my thigh, whispers of ‘sa’at’ (equivalent of hansum man), revealed there were some pretty faces attached to the boobs. VC ordered 2 Anchor draughts ($1 a mug, $1.50 after Happy Hour, pronounced an-chor as in cheap), and I found my arm attached to a SYT, firmly wedged between a pair of 36Cs which seemed oddly out of place, given the disarming innocence she radiated. She seemed determined not to be outdone by the other girls clamoring for our attention. She seemed really taken by this hansum man, which I’m sure has absolutely nothing to do with the tips she expected.
Speaking not a word of Khmer and English, I was content just feeling her soft milky bosom on the sly, and her bum against my groin. We both bought a round of ladies’ drinks ($2 each) and since she doesn’t possess a mobile, by which I could summon her for a afternoon siesta, left for home with a $2 tip and a wet patch on the jeans.
Readers ask why am I going home alone? Well, through the years, I have come to realize alcohol, when imbibed on the excessive, gives one the bravado and urge, but nothing of the performance. More than once have I regretted the choice, and the tediousness in the morning after which she’s paid to go away. So when I want a ‘boom boom’, I go slow on the liquids.
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