Phuket Prostitution Story

By Chris (from Phuket)

Phuket prostitution on a major upswing screamed the newspaper headline. Glen scanned the first few paragraphs of the article and then turned to page two of the local Phuket newspaper; not really concentrating on anything, but skim-reading the articles all the same.

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Nothing new there he thought, reflecting on the headline with a slight shake of his head. The oldest profession known to man, and to women too for that matter, certainly isn’t going to disappear any time soon. After all, sex sells just about anything, and where would Phuket be without its fair share of hookers, bar-girls, pimps and, of course, punters…?

Suddenly, a hand on his shoulder, gripping it tight, giving it a squeeze. “You look pensive Glen my old friend, what’s up?”

Discussion of the Phuket prostitution scene

“Oh.. hi Ray, You gave me quite a start. Sorry, I was just thinking about sex, haha.”

“Don’t we all, don’t we all?” asked Ray, rhetorically, sliding into a seat opposite his friend. “But here, in the middle of the day? In a coffee shop in Central Phuket? Better be careful my man. Or maybe go and see a doctor. Have you been taking Viagra or something?”

“No, I was just flicking through this local newspaper whilst I was waiting for you and saw this article.” He turned the newspaper back to the front page and passed it across to Ray. “Main headline.”
“Nothing new there,” murmured Ray.

“It’s just that they make it sound like it’s such a shock. Phuket prostitution, or paid sex, goes hand in hand with the other three S’s: sun, sand, sea. What do they really expect the barrel loads of single male tourists who come to Phuket to be doing. Lie on the beach all day, have a few drinks and go to bed at ten o’clock?”

Ray, tall and wiry, with a boyish face which belied his five and more decades looked serious for a few moments. He waved across to one of the waiting staff, opening and closing his hands in the time honoured manner to show he wanted a menu. “Glen, we are staying here for a while, right?”

Glen nodded, his glasses slipping to the end of his nose as he did. “Yes, Colin can’t make it until about four,” he said, looking at his expensive watch. “So we’ve got half an hour or so to kill.”

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“If I recall correctly, you did some volunteer work with night workers some years back,” Ray said. “What prompted that?”

“Hmm…, that was some time ago, and only for a few weeks. Guess I just felt I should try to help some of those people less fortunate than myself. After all, I have spent most of my career, and indeed life, in various parts of Asia. But my job as Regional Marketing Director for the hotel group just got too much and, in fact, to be honest I found that many ladies in the Phuket prostitution scene that I met didn’t really want help.”

The waitress handed Ray a cup of steaming hot chocolate, “Kop khun maak,” he said to her and turned back to face Glen. “Yes, it’s a very fine line between help and interference,” he continued, blowing on the hot liquid in the cup.

“Did you do much with street walkers, hookers, whores or whatever you want to call them when you were doing social work in UK?” asked Glen, cradling his own coffee cup in both hands.

“Yes, in fact I did, and it gave me a great insight into what makes the industry—and believe me it is a major industry—work. You can easily transpose prostitution in any other country or city onto the workings of Phuket prostitution although, of course, there are a few added ingredients here, especially with the island being a major tourist draw. As you well know, no matter where you are, there are arguments for and against prostitution. You can look at it as a vice or a necessity and you can see it from the side of the man and, naturally, alternatively, from the side of the female.”

“True,” muttered Glen. His phone pinged at the sound of a Line message being received but he chose to ignore it. “You know I’ve often wondered why men who in their own country are pillars of society, staid as you like, who wouldn’t for one moment contemplate going to a sex-worker, throw away their inhibitions and concerns and end up getting up to all sorts of antics when they enter the Phuket prostitution scene. It almost as if they leave their upper brains at the airport as soon as they enter Thailand. Risks of disease, being found out by friends or family at home or whatever—they just don’t seem to care!”

Ray put down his half-empty cup on the table in front of them. He glanced round at some of the other patrons in the coffee-shop, then looked back at Glen. “Hmm.., some of that’s not that difficult to understand. You’ll know most of this already, but let me summarise some of the key players in the Phuket prostitution circus, and circus it is really! You’ve essentially three key types of men: firstly, the young and inexperienced who think they’ve arrived in heaven once they hit Phuket and see the bars and clubs and girls and hookers; they’ll have sex with anything that moves and screw anyone, not literally of course, and woe betide anyone who tells them not to; secondly, there is the more mature man in his 40s or 50s who is no longer getting enough at home as it were, comes to Thailand, sees all these beautiful brown skinned, long haired girls in the bars, all offering themselves for lustful fantasies. It’s enough to make them go ga-ga; and, thirdly, we have the separated, divorced or widowed man, more often than not in his 60s or 70s who can just about still remember what sex is all about; maybe he pops a Viagra pill to help him on his way…”

“Ha, that’s a bit unfair, the pill bit,” laughed Glen. “I’m almost 60 and certainly don’t need one.” He paused. “Hey…, let me do the stereotypical profile of the hookers… To start we have the relatively poor country girl who is working to support her family back home; Phuket prostitution pays her good money, far better than she can even earn anywhere else with her lack of qualifications etc. It hasn’t got the stigma it used to have and if anyone from back home asks what she does, she can say she is working in a hair salon. Then we have the hooker who has made her money but can’t give up the lifestyle, the money, the camaraderie with the other girls; maybe gets laid once per night or every other night and most of the rest of her time is free; and, finally, the woman who is doing it as a means to a different end, i.e. to save up enough money to build a house back in the provinces.”

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“Yes, so I think we both agree, it’s a moral dilemma. If there is supply and demand, why should the increase in Phuket prostitution numbers be such a concern to the newspapers or the authorities…?”

“Colin…, over here…” Glen’s call interrupted his friend’s comments. “Sorry, Ray. Colin almost walked past us twice.”

“Hi guys,” beamed Colin. “Ready?”

“Sure,” replied Glen. “Where are we off to?”

Colin gave him a quizzical look. “The same place as last time you said. Same girls too. Only the best ladies for us my friend…”

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