Gay Boy Thailand

Thai Immigration received a new computer system worth millions of dollars from the Americans recently. This was so Thailand could keep track of shady people.

I consider myself as fairly shady.

But I have a new, almost blank passport. In the age of computers the Thai immigration officers opened my passport, decided I had never applied for a tourist visa before (I have a dozen), and proceed to explain me the details. I played along.

—

I went to Komtar shopping centre to look for Malaysian boys. I found one who was shopping with his mother. He was a long-haired bleached blond Chinese queen. Call me a wimp, but I am hesitant to chat up boys when they are with their mothers. I get embarrassed. But the boy noticed my interest and came to join me when I was hanging over the rails on the top floor. He wanted me to get a good look at him. Maybe he wanted me to speak to him too, but I didn’t do that. Then mother and son left.

Straight boys don’t like to go shopping with their mothers. If nothing else had triggered my gaydar that would have done it.

Did I mention that Komtar is the place for Chinese queens? Another one was on the ground floor with his faghag. He wore a tight tank top. His hair looked like something out of the 1980s. He too noticed my interest - how do they know?

—

I went back to the hotel for a short nap. When I woke up five hours later it was 10pm. I went out to eat. A well-dressed Chinese sat in what I call Triangle Park, which is the traffic island outside the Indian movie house. They have benches there and it can be cruisy at night. This Chinese boy had a gym body. He didn’t loook local, but then again what do I know?

The Chinese boy was not money. I am quite sure of that. He was an educated urban type, maybe from Kuala Lumpur. He was posing where he sat, showing off. He had chosen the brightest and most visible spot for his self-confident performance. I did nothing. Well, maybe I looked at him a couple of seconds longer that a straight man would, but that was all.

I went down Chulia street to my fav restaurant. They had closed. I turned and saw the Chinese gym boy was loitering on the pavement. He had been following me. Now he pretended to study the shop windows.

This Chinese guy was perfect. He had a beautiful face and a five star body. Just like I have. But he was a tad too masculine for my taste. I don’t think we would be compatible.

I considered talking to him. I considered inviting him for tea and biscuts, and I do mean tea and biscuits and not some other naughty thing you have in mind.

Is there any place for a platonic friendship in this gay world? I knew what would happen if I spoke to him. He would love me instantly, as they all do. He would invite himself to my hotel room. He would be eager to get down to business. If I didn’t provide the business he would be disappointed.

What if I wanted to talk to him about the Chinese in South East Asia and their role in society? I am afraid he would not have the time for that. Young men like him are in a hurry. They want things done. Chinese gay boys demand efficiency in their love affairs like in everything else.

I could have taken him to a cafe. That would have been neutral ground and it would not raise hopes like a visit to my hotel room would. But I am afraid he would only see it as a prelude. This guy was cruising. He was not in the mood for small talk. So I abandoned him.

I know. It was cruel of me.