Gay Boy Thailand

I met another young Lao boy. He was sitting by the fountain, the cruising spot in Vientiane. I will call him Fashion Boy, because that was what he was.

Fashion Boy was happy to talk to me in Thai. His way of dressing, his hair and his makeup made him about as straight as Richie Stringini. He was good looking and as with many Laotians I thought he appeared more Vietnamese than Isaan.
- Do you want me to show you around? asked Fashion Boy.
- To where?
- The disco.
- Let me think about it.

As I was thinking about it another farang came. He was a tall and thin Italian of the sort who is handsome and knows it. He went around the fountain to look at the selection and came back to Fashion Boy and I.
- Want to show me around? asked the Italian.
- Yes! said Fashion Boy. To me he said: - Sorry!
The two left on Fashion Boy’s motorbike.

I was miffed. I know I should not be miffed, as I had no designs on Fashion Boy and we had no agreement about anything, but I still felt dumped.

That was day one. On day two I met Fashion Boy again. He gave me a sheepish smile and seemed to wonder if I was angry with him. He apologised again for leaving me so abruptly the day before.
- So how did it go with the handsome farang? I asked.
Fashion Boy looked unhappy.
- Him no good, said Fashion Boy.
- What happened?
- I no like him.
- What did he do?
- We go disco dancing. I say him I no like him speak other boy if he go with me. But him smile and speak and hug other boy.
- That’s not nice, I said.
- So I say to him he can go alone. And I go home. Where you go?

Fashion Boy, having realised he had put his kip on the wrong horse, had gone back to fountain to look for me, but by then I had gone to my hotel.

—

We spoke about Bangkok. For someone who had never been to the city Fashion Boy knew where all the gay spots where. He was fully informed about DJ Station, soi 4 and Babylon.

Fashion Boy was in his early 20ies and he talked about education and a business he hoped to start in Vientiane.
- Do you have a boyfriend? I asked.
- No have, said Fashion Boy.
- I have, I said.
- How long?
- Five years.
- Where you meet him?
- In a park. He was working with his family.
- What him do?
- I am putting him through university in Bangkok.

Fashion Boy translated this to his friend, a ladyboy. She was pretty and I had to look closely to tell she was the 3rd gender.

Then Fashion Boy turned to me with misty eyes.
- What is wrong? I asked.
Silence.
It seemed Fashion Boy wanted someone to install him in an apartment in Bangkok and put him through university.
- Do you want to join me for dinner? I asked.
- Where? asked Fashion Boy.
- The French restaurant over there.
- Is too hi-so. I shy.

Fashion Boy waited by the fountain while I ate. When I came back there were even more gay boys at the fountain. The rumour that there is only one gay boy in Laos turned out not to be true.

Fashion Boy offered me a motorbike ride back to my hotel. When we got there I invited him to my room. The rent girls in the lobby made faces which said “aha!” when I walked in with male company.

A poster on the wall in my room said “no sexual activity and no political meetings in the room, please entertain your guests in the lobby of the hotel”. But nobody tried to stop me from taking Fashion Boy upstairs.

Not that the receptionist had any reason to moralise. I had seen him and his young spiky-hair friend earlier, the spiky-hair boy giving the receptionist neck massage. Bloody homosexuals, both of them.

—

The atmosphere had changed since Fasion Boy heard about my boyfriend. It seemed he had decided, in the time from he left the handsome Italian and till meeting me again, that I should be his ticket to a better life. He was resentful now that he discovered the position as pampered boyfriend was taken by Chalerm.

Fashion Boy didn’t want his picture taken. He was concerned I might manipulate his photo on the computer, inserting his head in a porn scene. I assured him I didn’t do that to my models.

- Do you need money? I asked.
- Yes, said Fashion Boy.
I gave him 500 baht.
- Why? asked Fashion Boy.
- I was going to give you 500 if you posed for photos. But now I am giving you the money anyway.

Fashion Boy felt bound by accepting the money and took his shirt off. But he had two layers of shirts. The innermost layer stayed on.

I took some photos and Fashion Boy looked at the monitor on the back of the camera.
- I fat, said Fashion Boy.
- You are not fat, I said.
- And I this, said Fashion Boy and pointed to some acne spots on his belly.
- I can remove it on the computer, I said.

This made Fashion Boy give me that look again, as if he feared what I would do to him on the Internet. But mainly I think he wanted to be difficult as revenge for me not becoming his saviour and lifetime sponsor.

Fashion Boy gave me his email address and I promised to send a copy of the best photo to him.
- You not want… ahem… something more? asked Fashion Boy.
- No thanks, I am fine, I said.
- I go home now?
- Sure.

Then he was gone. I have emailed him his photo but he has not replied. Fashion Boy said he might contact me when he comes to Bangkok, but also that he “afraid my boyfriend”. I don’t expect to hear from him.