Thai Bar Girls and Love Stories - "Don't Forget Me!"

She reached over and wrote it without trying to draw attention to her act, and in the notepad that for the past few weeks I'd spent my time drawing offensive cartoon mockerys of their most beloved deity, Buddha, she wrote 'don't forget me!'

And I didn't understand at first, and I probably don't still. But given the situation it seemed like a strange thing to write. And by her writing it alone it elevated our shared experience into something more than what it was, to more than a seedy exchange in a dirty Bangkok hotel where smiles and hearts can be deceiving and bought for a price.

And I read it several times over right there and then, trying to absorb its true meaning, because through this simple act on her part, and the simple request she'd made in writng, we'd both been set in stone as characters in some long drawn out drama, a romance of sorts, lovers forced apart by the untamed violences of feuds and wars and all that is harsh enough in this world to act as a barrier between birds of a feather. But of course, it wasn't like that at all.

And then through the power of Google I noticed that I wasn't alone, and that others were seeking, pondering, questioning the purpose of this simple request asked by Thai girls of their Falang clients, 'Don't forget me!", and as on guard as you may be to the beautiful charms of Thailand's wiliest daughters you find yourself disarmed by such sentiments. And suddenly you feel the responsibility that comes with any physical connection washing back over you, set free from the compartment in which you'd sealed it tightly away, when convincing yourself prior that this was nothing more than a financial transaction, and a business deal from which both would benefit.

But of course, nothing but nothing is ever that easy.

"Don't forget me!"

Is it a ploy, a plot, a calculated campaign designed to trap, ensnare, and bleed dry the idiot unlucky enough or foolish enough to get caught up in her web of lies like so many men before him? Or could it be something more?

The average Thai bar girl is more than aware that faking love can be far more profitable (in the long run) than faking orgasms could ever be. And as such is more than capable of playing the kind of games necessary to make a man lose his head, heart, and ultimately his money.

But nobody made of flesh is also made of stone. 

So while many long-term visitors to Thailand's shores would advise you that ‘real love' is not a commodity sold in the land of smiles, even the most jaded of them must have at some point seen the woman hiding behind the emotional shields of her profession, to the girl who only ever wanted to be just somebody’s princess. To be loved and love back. The woman who just for once, and just for a moment, after sharing her body with yet another foreign stranger, wished that she was not so quickly disposed of, and was not so quickly forgotten.

* A tribute to 'Panida Poomsaeng', a woman I promised to never forget.