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There is no doubt that this is a place of some very broken men, and they wear it like a coat. There are the men who sit in the bars, a drink in front of them, their faces frozen in a blank, empty stare. They are not lost in a state of arousal, but instead seem completely zoned out, numbed by the lights and the music and the noise.
There are also the men who strut through the streets, and into the bars, and when given attention by one of the women there, react as if they have just been asked to dance at the grade 7 dance. They convey a sense of pride in themselves, “puffed up” by the attention they’re receiving, giddy with the excitement of an adolescent boy.
There are the men who, as I described earlier, seem shameless in their treatment of the women who’s names they don’t even know. It is very common to see these men call a women off the stage by her number, buy her a drink, and almost immediately grab at her breast or vagina, sit her in his lap, or place her hand between his legs.
There are also the men who are here, doing the things they’re doing, because classism, racism and sexism says they can.
“She’s poor, and I’m helping her by paying her.”
“That’s what Thai women/any women are for.”
“I’m a man, I have needs, women are here for my enjoyment.”
We know this persists because we too have been the object of leering glances in elevators filled with men, comments made to us on the street, or whistles and noises made in our direction. This happens on every trip without fail. It is in the air here, it is undeniable.
"– The Word From Bangkok: Chapter 5 My wife describing the men they see in the sex bars and on the streets of Bangkok. (via miketodd07)
(via bangkokaisha)
