Story of a Farangs Naivety in Bar Scene

Story of a Farangs Naivety in Bar Scene

Tony, (though that‘s not his real name, which is being withheld for obvious reasons) was a Pattaya bar-owner of 5 years, so he should have known better than to have fallen in love with the Thai manager of a beauty parlour. She came into his bar one lazy afternoon, ostensibly to look for work, but really she had her eye on the main chance. From the moment Tony saw her, he fell madly in love; totally foolish, but that‘s life, as many farang in Fun Town can attest.

Anyway, she was a lot more astute than his other girls, so he made her the Mamasan. From the moment she started, she alienated the girls, lording it over them and boasting that the boss was putty in her hands. Which he was! He married her a week later, really snubbing the leading bar girl who he’d effectively promised to marry the month before.
After they married, Mam, for that was the name she went under, if she’d been bad before, now became totally unbearable. She fined the girls if they were a minute late for work and was a really taskmistress, forcing them out on the street to pull in passing farangs, which they’d been reluctant to do before. The poor girls didn’t know what had hit them!
From Tony’s point of view, Mam could do no wrong; at least to start with. The takings tripled in one week and the place had never been busier. He first noticed a thawing in her affections when he just happened to mention that he’d appreciate it if she could tell him when she took money out of the till and helped herself to drinks. She gave him a blistering tirade for at least an hour and snubbed him for the rest of the evening. Poor Tony was mortified, he had to go down on his hands and knees and beg her forgiveness for having had the effrontery to question her helping herself.The next rub was asking her for a loan when it came to pay the rent, ‘cos he’d overstretched himself. “We’re married, “she told him, in no uncertain terms, “so your money is my money, but my money is my money, so don’t come asking me for any.” He had to get a loan from his friend at a neighbouring bar.
Then she wanted a new motorcycle, which of course, he had to buy her, but woe betide him if he tried to ride it himself. Then he heard on the grapevine that she’d been going short-time with some of the regulars. That really set the cat among the pigeons. The row that ensued lasted for a week, at the end of which Tony just told her to pack her bags and leave, and “don’t forget to leave the motorcyke,” were his parting words to her, to be greeted by a bunch of keys being thrown in his face. He left the keys on his bedside table that night, only to find she’d sneaked back in the night and taken both them and the bike.
By putting out feelers and visiting her beauty salon frequently, he eventually tracked her down. Somehow or another, he managed to reclaim the motorcycle ignition keys and off he drove back to the bar. The next afternoon she returned mob-handed, with the police in tow.

“Look in his bum-bag,” she told the cop, “he’s got some ganja in it” And sure enough he had, so it was off to the monkey-house for a week. When he eventually got out, after a few backhanders, he found she’d ransacked the private quarters of the bar, rifled the safe and ripped him off totally, stripping him of all the assets that weren’t nailed down.
He really started in earnest to track her down, but to no avail and then he learnt she’d put out a contract on his life. He had to go to court the next week and somehow managed to get out on bail. As soon as he did, he replied in kind, taking out a contact on her life.
He was sitting gloating on the street-side of his bar one early evening, when a motorcyclist rode up, armed with a handy piece of two-by-four, with which he proceeded to beat hapless Tony severely about the head, neck and shoulders. When he later got out of hospital, he was told that a local Thai hoodlum, known to be gunman, had been seen hanging around the vicinity of the bar, so deciding that discretion was the better part of valour and also as his trial was coming up again, he decided to beat a hasty retreat back to the UK.
He returned 3 months later, under a different name, with a new passport, ‘cos all he had in the world was tied up in the bar, and he couldn’t afford to let it all go. He was filled in on the news in his absence by a local bar-owner. It transpired that his belatedly beloved, Mam, had done the same to three different farang bar-owner, and that rather than running a bona-fide beauty salon, she used it as a front for her gang of rip-off girlies, whose favourite ploy was to put knock-out drops on their nipples and then sent the boys in to ransack the residences of their victims when they were comatose. She apparently made a pretty penny from that little racket.
However, the contract on her life had almost been fulfilled on one occasion, so she escaped back to Esarn, at least for a short while, till she could decently return to continue her rip-off ways. Tony, in the meantime, sold the bar at a considerable loss, but then opened another. Hopefully, he won’t make the same mistake again.