Feb 7, 2016

The Power of the Pussy

     Some four months before me, my mom also went to Thailand but that's where the similarities more or less end: due to the fact that she spent twice as much money during her two-week trip as I did during my three-week one and that she stayed in places like this one while I stayed in places like this one, one would think that her experience has absolutely nothing in common with mine. But lo and behold, it does and the one similarity is none other than — a ping pong show.
     Yes, that's right, my mother, a coy and timid pediatrician well in her fifties, went to Bangkok, Thailand, and saw a ping pong show. And what's even more surprising, she wasn't all that coy and timid about sharing the experience with me when she got home.
     "And then they hand out ping pong paddles to the audience," she said, "and people swat flying balls back on stage," she said.
     "Excuse me, what??" I said. "I HAVE TO see that with my own eyes."
     And with that my ping pong show quest began.
     First, I did my research online. Initially, I just wanted to find the best ping pong show in town, but what I found was something quite different: it turned out that for every table tennis ball involved in a ping pong show there's a person out there on the streets of Bangkok trying to scam you and the Internet is hence full of stories about how people were approached by club promoters on the street and invited to see a '200-Baht' ping pong show but were later stiffed with a bill of 3000+ Baht. Some people just payed and got the hell out of there, some people decided to argue at which point they got surrounded by bouncers and performers who were screaming at them and harassing them to pay the bill which, for example, included a 'looking fee' as well as a bunch of other unexpected (and unfounded) fees.
     Well, my mom sure didn't mention THAT. So what the fuck is a girl to do if she wants to see some slimy ping pong balls shooting across the room but doesn't want to get scammed??
     Luckily, Google always has an answer and she said: "Worry not, my friend, there's a way," offering me plenty of sites with step by step guides on how to survive a ping pong show hunt in Bangkok and I studied them all. And so, after I admittedly rather unnervingly read one horror story after another (trying to prepare myself for the worst) and memorize one list of tips after another (trying to equip myself to the best of my ability), I was finally ready — it was show time. Well, almost.
     Before we, me and my boyfriend, got to see an actual show, the tuk-tuk driver did in fact tried to scam us, taking us to some deserted, shady street far away from everything where he urged us to enter some dingy club claiming (lying) that all other clubs were closed. Yeah, right. So after I stubbornly persisted that I'm not an idiot and that he should immediately take us to where we asked him to, he eventually gave up and furiously drove off to Patpong, one of Bangkok's red light districts.
     Patpong, in all honesty, doesn't look all that red-light-districty but the ping pong show we saw there looked very much ping-pongy with a ton of ping pong balls flying everywhere and bouncing off of everything and everyone. But ping pong balls, despite them being the main attraction, actually weren't the star of the show, no. The show was first stolen by that little paper dart you see in the first picture below. That very dart, my dears, was shot out of a stripper's vagina lying on her back in the middle of the stage. Why did the stripper shoot a paper dart out of her vagina? To pop a balloon held up by a gentleman sitting in front of me, what else. So as the dart went zooming out of the said pussy and through the air towards the said balloon, it popped it with a bang and flew past my head, landing not far from me on the floor. And you can see what happened next — I took it home with me. Now, don't tell me you wouldn't do the exact same thing.
     But even though the below dart might seem as the best Bangkok souvenir ever, it isn't, it's the second best one. The enviable first place belongs to a bottle of soda or better yet its cap.  How does a bottle of soda fit into a ping pong show, you ask? Very nicely, actually. Especially considering it was shoved up a strippers vagina with which she then opened the bottle and sent the fizzy drink squirting everywhere. Honestly, that right there, the might of the bottle-opening pussy, was well worth all the fees. Sure, it left me gobsmacked and I started to question my own femininity and I now feel less of a woman, but it was the best damn thing I've personally seen someone do with their genitals in a while, if not ever. I mean, it's a bottle popping pussy, for fuck's sake! If that doesn't say 'girl power' then I don't know what does.
     Unfortunately though, the cap, i.e. the ultimate girl power souvenir, didn't find its way back to Slovenia with me — it flew in a different direction away from me so maybe some other lucky bastard was fortunate enough to collect it. But nonetheless, I can't and won't complain: when the bottle was de-capped and the soda went spurting everywhere, I got some one my face — and I shall cherish this memory forever.


     P.S.: Just in case any of you wants to know what in any of the photos is, here's a hint: I usually name all my pics, so to get to the name just right click on them as if you are trying to save them and then a window appears where you can change the name of the file and that will give you all the details. Also, you can find more random everyday snaps on my Twitter or Instagram feed.


     Thanks for stopping by and looking and reading (obviously) my mishmash jumble of pot-pourri-like craziness, it means the world to me. Therefore, you're welcome to pop by again next week to see what's new on the blog — I post once a week every week, most likely somewhere between Wednesdays and Sundays. But beware, I'm not signing and sealing that in blood so your best bet is to follow FPS via email (or Bloglovin, Twitter, Instagram, Facebook or Google+) to never miss an update. Or simply come by again sometimes!




.



..