"The lawyer for a
Melbourne woman accused of stealing a bar mat in Thailand says it ridiculous
that he has had to ask the Prime Minister to intervene on behalf of his client."
Here more about the famous "Bar Mat"
The 'bar mat' from the Aussie bar in Patong that started
the whole controversy was 145cm by 45 cm and made of thick rubber.
At a sleepy little beer bar in Chiang Mai the foreigner was
sweating and working on his 6th Chiang beer and 6th shot of Mekong whiskey and
he was feeling good. It wasn’t his first trip north and he liked these up
country Thais. In Bangkok even his 6’2" athletic frame was not enough to be sure
ten of those little buggers did not do him harm when he got feeling frisky.
Chiang Mai was different, no Thai mob just a bunch of ex pats and friendly Thai
girls nothing to stop the ornery spell if he got drunk and a little loud.
He asked the bartender who the bloke was at the end of the bar. The girl said,
“Chiang Mai Kelly”. He thought who the fuck is Chiang Mai Kelly and dismissed
the old ex pat as a mindless twit probably ex Vietnam riff raff drinking his
life away. He didn’t like old people. He didn’t like fat people. As a matter of
fact he didn’t like people who were not just like him.
The night wore on and his tab grew by the hour as did his mood to hear some
other music besides the awful mix of old jazz and 60’s rock and Doo Wop that was
loaded in the CD player.
He let everyone know his displeasure. But nothing happened. These little slant
eyes were ignoring him, he thought.
Who own place he bellowed?
The girl closest him nodded in the direction of Kelly.
Hey old man, he said, change the fucking tunes.
To his surprise Kelly did not look up from the yellow pad that he was writing on
and that was the obvious center of his interest.
He yelled again louder this time but still no response.
He got up from his bar seat and walked, lurched over to the end of the bar to
confront this “Chiang Mai Kelly” face to face.
He yelled close up and in his ear “Change the fucking tunes” and unleashed a
roundhouse right that was telegraphed from outer space and in slow motion.
Kelly was taking a cigarette from its package and looked up as the devastating
blow was coming aimed for his head.
Kelly didn’t flinch as he pulled the cigarette out of the package.
The Princess of Patpong was standing quietly at Kelly’s side as she always did.
The big farang did not see the upper cut coming. It hit him the same time as the
Muy Thai knee to the groin. Long before his punch reached the halfway arc his
head snapped back from the princess’s right and her knee doubled him over just
in time to get her elbow in his temple.
The only thing keeping him conscious as he fell backward towards the floor was
the searing pain in his crotch. His head hit the wood floor with a bang and he
rolled over in a fetal position trying to protect what was left of his manhood.
The princess was putting ice on her knuckles as Kelly poured her a whiskey.
“Princess you getting to old for this stuff” he said as he looked at her right
hand. “You know I could have taken him.”
The princess laughed and drank her whiskey down and wondered where she would be
without Kelly.
She looked at the yellow pad and at the words at the top of the page and
wondered what they meant.
She wished she could read English. Well maybe next year she would learn.
She asked “Kelly, what you write?” “You stoy me again?”
“Chi, teluk I story you.”
“What called stoy?”
“Princess Patpong, name story. I’ll read you after, OK?”
“Sure, sure. go home now.”
“OK baby go home now.”
A night club in Chiang Mai.
There is applause. Oh God. Princess has vaulted up on stage and is standing in
the corner one pants leg rolled up and the zipper of her jeans half down and her
ass length hair flying in the breeze as she gets her groove on.
The band has stopped except for the drummer. Now for any women reading this if
you are not the prettiest chic on the planet remember the Princess.
I watch the eyes of the crowd. She has got them focused on her naked calf, her
unzipped fly and her waist length hair.
The Bangkok shuffle is but a memory. This is a razor sharp hard as nails Patpong
Pro. She will shake you and bake you and slit your throat for a dime and you
will die a happy man.
The Princess learned to dance in places where bullets were as frequent as drum
beats (I looked at her passport).
She earned every bump and every grind the hard way. She knows how to work a
crowd.
The crowd is clapping. A Japanese guy gets up and tries to tip her. She grabs
the cash and kicks him in the chest and he liked it as he rolled back to his
seat and broke the chair he landed on. Ya, she’s a pro.
I try and not look. She is giving me that hand signal like she wants money but I
know that’s not it. She wants my Swiss army knife.
Oh well, there goes another pair of jeans.
I give her the knife.
She can handle a knife and the guy on the spot light hit’s the blade as she
slices her left jean leg open to the waist. Damn that knife is sharp. Just like
daddy told me, always keep it sharp. And then she whips the knife into the top
of a Peavey speaker.
Her chest is struggling. It looks like her bra is having a battle with her body.
Big breast and surprisingly perky for a 37 year old Thai lady.
The base player has now joined the drummer and I think I am watching a porn
movie being made. The guys in the crowd are starting to get hot. The women in
the crowd are starting to smell the guy phernomes and they are getting randy.
They all see her eyes on the pole. The pole is like her nirvana. She is a pole
whore. She likes the pole and the pole likes her. The lead guitar starts to
whack out the high tones. And her hips start to pump. Everyone in the room knows
what I know every night. She takes a flying leap like a runner sliding head
first into home she snags the pole and in one fluid motion snakes up the pole
and off goes the sequined purple City Woo top. I don’t know what the hell City
Woo means but that was on the shirt I bought her at the night bazaar.
Now the girls come back out on stage and start singing.
Princess is being a good girl and keeping her pants and bra on for the time
being as she works the pole while the girls sing.
I get two songs to relax. Before the crowd can’t take it any more and they all
stand up and start stomping the floor.
She throws her hair in her face and hangs her head in rhythm with the beat,
turns around and rips off what remains of her jeans and purple panties.
By now the band is dancing around the pole.
She has got them begging to see her tits.
The hundred baht notes are flying towards the stage and the wife of the Japanese
guy is trying to give her money.
Her hair covers her face and chest as the drummer is going crazy and when she
releases those puppies. For Sweden they aren’t particularly big breasts but they
really create a stir in Chiang Mai. In Chiang Mai she is stacked. In Chiang Mai
she is Pamela Anderson.
She raises her arms and shakes her hair from her face and I think I am in a
Fellini movie.
Every profession has it stars. Golf has it’s senior tour and thousands of people
still clap and Patpong strippers have the Princess.
A middle aged Isaan woman that on a given night if the moon is just right and
the lights are just right and if the music is just right can still bring the
house
