Gay Boy Thailand

I met a handsome young man on a street corner in Kota Kinabalu. At first there were two, but soon it was only one. He spoke to me in Malay and tried to make me follow him to somewhere.

I had my doubts about where this would lead. But the direction he was walking happened to be the same way I would go back to my hotel anyway, so I went along.

We came to a Karaoke bar. A sleepy guard sat outside. Inside a Malay man was singing a local pop song. Suggestively dressed ladies sat around tables. And a bunch of kids sat at the bar.

What were the kids doing there? I realised the bar had just opened and that the kids were family of the staff. Most of the children left but a young boy stayed behind. He smiled at me and gestured to his mother, a chubby over-the-hill tribe woman. I understood that the boy told his mother that he knew me, and that she said “really?”.

I didn’t know the child. He may have been one of those kids on the street who come up to me and say “one ringit?”. If I in a moment of weakness give them money they remember me for years.

My self-appointed friend from the street corner ordered drinks. They were Carlsbergs at 18 ringit a bottle. I sent the beer back unopened and asked for a cola. This made my friend leave in a huff without saying goodbye.

The kid pointed to a stunningly beautiful woman who sat at a table smoking. She was so good looking I almost wished I was straight. Like all the other ladies in the bar she was from the tribes.

Next the kid pointed to his chubby mother. Using hand gestures he grinned and eagerly recommended her.

In the West people are concerned that the young don’t know the lives of their parents. What does father and mother do for a living? Should their offspring become more involved in the daily lives of their parents?

In this bar the kids knew only too well what their mothers did for a living. I had the impression that the ladies lived in rooms upstairs, and if they were single mothers the children lived there too. Hence there were no secrets.

I drank my single glass of cola and left.

—

A group of Philippino youths hang around a market. A couple of them were cute and gave me looks. But they seemed reluctant. I spoke to the informal leader of the group, a guy who sold pirate videos.
- They like you but they are afraid, explained the leader in his perfect pinoy English.
- Afraid of me?
- You are a big strong man.
- Like this? I asked.
I rolled my eyes, put my tongue out and pretended to strangle myself with my hands.
- Yes, said the boys and laughed.

Five minutes later I realised my mobile phone was no longer in my pocket. When did that happen? I had not noticed anything.

I asked the nearest guy for my phone. He gave it back. He didn’t apologise and I didn’t accuse him of anything.

The video seller was done pirating for the day and invited himself to my hotel room. This caused general exitement. Everyone were ready to go. I told them I could not fit a dozen people in my hotel room. We agreed that the video seller and one of the cuties should come.

We started walking but after a minute the cute boy said something in Malay.
- You go ahead to the hotel, said the video seller. - We will be with you in five minutes.

They never came.