by Jay J Carr
However, as much as he tries not to think about it, he keeps thinking about yesterday. The humiliation.
Today he spent hours going through the various websites and chatrooms but to no avail. It was during this time that he had read about the Soi, an alleyway, a magical place where men were available for ‘pay’ and could be selected from a line up. Sounded too good to be true. Part of him could not entertain the idea of this. There was morality, or was there? No it wasn’t about morality it was about being judged by others yet again for his choices. In order to justify it he thought about all the strip bars all over the world for straight men. Why not for his kind?
So he had decided to go and find ‘that place’ where it all unfolded. He had made notes and drawn a rough map on how to get there which was a replica from a website he had found. The Soi was within walking distance of his hotel; he had validated this online. It was not something he could ask the concierge for help with. He decided to go in the daytime - tracing a route there - so that when he needed to go back in the evening it would be easier.
The humidity was thick, sticky and there was sweat which poured from his face. He felt dehydrated and found it difficult to breathe. However, he was determined to see if this place really existed. He had wondered aimlessly down streets but it was only later that he realized he was not looking for an alleyway with cars but a walking street. The Soi had possibly been a street for vehicles at some point but the bars and clubs had encroached on it. Now it was simply a small lane to be walked through. The only giveaway sign was when you looked up and saw the name boards, connecting the various buildings together, with names like ‘Sex Bomb’ and ‘Dick Delight’, which gave no doubt that this was gay cargo for sale.
The lane was lifeless. As he looked at the various establishments he noticed various bars, bars and massage parlors but the doors that led to these were closed. There was a stench of alcohol and sewage and puddles of water everywhere. As he continued his way down the Soi, there inconspicuously in the middle of it was a café and it was open. The lights were on and there was activity inside. The café was set up like a chic Ibiza restaurant with all the chairs facing forward as if towards the ocean. The small tables big enough to hold a plate and drink. What was it doing here? Do people lounge and eat during … He was drawn to it and sat down. The only customer. The only human on the street.
A waiter had appeared and brought him a menu. There was a large selection of Western food. He didn’t have to guess about the clientele. He had laughed out loud for the second time that day. He ordered a grilled sandwich, fries and a coffee. The waiter was small, shy and nodded before disappearing inside.
It was while he was sitting there that he had the time to look around at each detail of the Soi and was still confused. He knew it must be different at night but there was nothing to indicate that it was any degenerate place. This made him relax and calm down about visiting later in the evening. His only concern now was how to face the others visiting. He decided to deal with that later.
The sandwich and coffee had arrived and he asked, “Really quiet?”
The waiter did not talk but simply smiled and disappeared. It had got him thinking about communication and the challenges associated with it. Could this affect the outcome of the evening?
The walk home was different and he realised that it is much closer than he had initially thought - two blocks.
And now as this thoughts return to the room and the ledge he is sitting on, the beauty of the river and the setting sun can be seen below.
New Jersey -
4.
It is a tunnel, a tunnel punctuated by a terrifying sound. It is a siren wailing in pain. The tunnel get fuzzier and fuzzier and he wakes up from the dream because the noise from the street is unbearable. The onslaught of the press has resulted in the already busy street taking extra strain. It is commuter time and the bottleneck that has been created erupts into chaos. There is hooting, shouting, and the noise of pedestrians caught in the crossfire and now the sirens of the police.
How does he deal with this? No book exists which reads- ‘How to deal with fame in ten seconds’. However, this is not true as all of what society consumes of late is the famous adage, ‘ten seconds of fame’. This is different though, the fames whores had sought their pseudo-fame – he had not. Although, he had smiled when alumni from the Institute had proposed him for a nomination for the prize a year ago, he knew it could and would never happen. It was after all his students wish, so he had obliged as one does to a small child who wants you to play hide and seek, when you know where they are hiding and pretend not to see. Thus, he had not thought about it again.
He is not someone noteworthy. He doesn’t even think that the Institute is known outside of Jersey, let alone the rest of the US. Have they not made a really big mistake?
The first book he had written was not even published by a publisher. It was self-published with one click. With another click it was available all over the world. The second book about dealing with national guilt had been published locally but received a lukewarm response and not many sales. His ‘real’ publisher had mentioned that there was more interest abroad than locally. Then there was the Institute and this was where he was the biggest faker. He had set it up because he was struggling to find a job outside of consulting that he was doing with the odd NGO and state department. A friend had helped with the accreditation and curriculum development, which he had no knowledge of. It had started small with a few students, a sub-leased premises of another educational institution and had grown a little bit with the help of international funding. The draw card was there were no student fees it was subsidized through funding. Even though he was a sham, this was his wish that he could allow learning to be accessible by all but the truth be told it attracted brilliant minds who wanted to study but could not afford it. As time went by and the Institute got noticed, more and more funding was provided to those who had the same passion as he did, which was in healing, restoring equilibrium to troubled souls, communities, countries.
This wasn’t noteworthy though; it was not groundbreaking work which had the potential to change the world. He was not invited to international conferences as a keynote speaker; he had to pay to speak like most other pseudo-academics, to save face and show that the Institute had some academic credibility.
Could they not see? He was a fraud. He was not an academic. He was a self-proclaimed and fabricated professor. Surely, they had checked this when they were selecting a candidate?
He finds himself cautiously returning to the spot at the kitchen window where he can peek at the circus outside. Now that the light is fading; now that the hyenas are more exposed than him; the fear and panic start to return. The extreme lighting used by the various television stations, with their reporters ablaze is what remains outside on the other side of the street. Next to his safe space, his home, the only other place he knows he is protected.
There are yelping noises and he looks down to see his ‘baby’, she wants to go for a walk and bounces and claws at him. “Not tonight darling.” Picking her up he kisses her comforted by the warmth that she offers.
His partner is hopefully on his way home from the airport. Any hope of an early return has now faded. He needs some calm to return to their lives.
Bangkok-
5.
Hurtle had a ‘brainwave’ and insisted on shooting the interview down the lane, which held all the ‘rentboy bars,’ before the other networks put the pieces together. They would do it quietly, in the middle of the day and at a cafe that supposedly overlooked the bar when no one else was around. Tod was disappointed, as he would like to have seen Hurtle explain the hotel that ‘rented’ rooms by the hour to the finance department.
The taxi pulled up to the curb and as he got out he wasn’t sure where to go. There were no obvious signs and he walked up and down the main street until he looked up and saw the ‘real’ signs. As he entered the alleyway he noticed the doors to the left and right. All were s
hut and there were a few people further in the distance. Half way down he came upon a cafe where Hurtle was in the process of taking over, moving chairs and talking to someone that Tod could not see. The cameraman had started setting up and the camera and stand were soon in place followed by the lights. He watched all of this through the window and decided not to go in until he really had to.
He couldn’t see much but through one of the windows the lights had been focused towards an object. It was then that he saw him/her/it sitting like a prima donna on the cushions, which were plumped up around him. Hurtle saw him and then motioned him to come inside.
As he entered the café he heard a high-pitched sound. “You can get good side,” the Mama-san shrieked and then continued in fits of laughter. No one else seemed to find it funny.
This is why he didn’t understand fags, he thought, as he looked the man in front of him up and down. The hands were not flapping but conducting the air in front of him and the voice shrilled up and down a scale trying to break each side of the sound spectrum.
Hurtle was trying to make small talk and the cameraman had stopped and looked on in horror. So clearly this was not the norm or otherwise he would not have been fazed. Hurtle turned to him and gave that awful wink, and with his head indicated he must come closer, "I would like you to meet the infamous Sak - the Mama-san of 'Boys World' - the critical link in our story."
Tod didn't know what to do? The last thing he wanted to do was to shake this man's hand and yet he could not be rude. Luckily, at the last minute he was able to pull his thoughts back together and he remembered where he was and raised his hands in greeting, "Sawadee-krub ... kub?"
"Ahh, you good. You greet me Thai way," he screeched and returned the greeting. "But you know we are all friend here and you are handsome man. You can hug me." Tod let out a nervous laugh and then gave a fake smile quickly walking back to where the cameraman had set up.
Hurtle, emerging from the shadows said, "So let's go through what we are going to do today and some of the ideas that we have for the interview."
Tod took a seat and gathered his notes. He looked up and saw Sak looking at him with startling intensity and felt remarkably uncomfortable. Better get this over with as quickly as possible.
"So, Tod here," he motioned towards Tod, "is going to ask you some questions about when Cunningham visited here and what you know."
"Ohhh yessss," the voice sang from the pillows.
Hurtle did not entertain it and carried on speaking, "We are not going to give you the questions before as we want spontaneous answers and also we want to make sure that you give the most honest responses.”
The hands were in the air one more time. “Not understand …”
Hurtle raised his eyebrow which was always a sign of irritation. “We will ask you questions.” While he said this he went into condescending mode and pointed at the Mama-san imitating talking. “We will then film the bar and you can walk us through like you agreed,” he imitated walking with his fingers. “You will then show us the process or how this thing works.” Hurtle didn’t imitate any actions for this as clearly he didn’t know what to do. “When we come back tonight we can then do the other shots. Any questions.” It was not a question.
The show was ready to start. The cameraman did the preliminary color checks and then walked over to clip the microphone on. It was at this time that a conversation ensued between the two in Thai but the cameraman had been well briefed and in English stated, "We must talk in English as they do not understand Thai."
The Mama-san was now ready for her debut Tod thought as he/she/it moved from side to side looking like he was going to lay an egg. Finally after much movement he said, "I am readeeeee!"
Tod let out a deep sigh and looking at his subject said, "I will open with a brief introduction about you and then I will start with the questions. The camera will first be on me then will pan and include you in the shot, and once we start we have to keep going. We will not be stopping.” No actions or motions accompanied his explanation.
The Mama-san pouted his lips and was about to say something when Tod motioned to the cameraman and Hurtle with a countdown of his hands.
"Sak, the Mama-san of 'Boys World' has agreed to be interviewed and to share the experiences of the life that goes on beyond these walls. The world in which sex is for sale, a place where men from all over the world flock to fulfill their fantasies and desires." With this he turned to face Sak directly and looking him straight in the eyes asked, "Sak, if you could explain to our viewers at home what a Mama-san is?"
Sak was enjoying this and leaned forward, "I am Sak, a Mama-san. I work at 'Boys World' and love my job."
Tod could see where this was going and quickly intercepted the monologue with, "Maybe if you can explain what a Mama-san does. Their job."
"Of course," the sound erupted back. "A Mama-san welcome the guest to bar and make feel good. I am friend to them. I am help to choose the boy that they want ... They say what they like, muscle boy or young boy, big dick boy or small dick boy then I show boy they want."
“Boy? You mean that they are underage? Under 18 years old?”
“No … no … no we call all boy.”
Tod was happy with this and to make sure that it did not turn into the circus of Sak once again interrupted with, "Well that helps put it into perspective. Maybe you could explain what a customer would typically do once they enter the bar till they leave?"
Sak was not so happy to have been cut off and was showing signs of irritation. Tod noted this and decided to do what he did best, "As the expert we need to hear it from you to understand the day to day running of 'Boys World'."
It worked and Sak once again puffed himself up before raising his hands in animation, "The customer come to the bar. We seat them. Get them drink and make comfortable with joke and laughing. We then find what customer like. What kind of boy. What kind of sex and we find boy that best for customer. Not easy job. We have to know what each boy do and what they are - gay or man." With this he had raised his left eyebrow like Hurtle did, he had to contain himself from laughing and gently bit his cheek. "Once make suggestions then must make sure to get boy quickly to customer in case other customer want boy. Customer buy drink for boy and then they have talk time … and touch. Once customer happy with boy he pay and boy change and go with customer."
“And when you say, ‘go with customer’, you mean to have sex with them?”
“Sex, massage, drinking, get high.”
“High?” he asked, thinking it was another gay term.
“Drug, take drug.”
Tod realized that he should have focused on the sex and quickly asked, “But in most cases for sex right?”
“Sex good.”
The Mama-san cocked his head to Tod as if he expected a round of applause. Hurtle sitting to the left of the Mama-san out of frame was also smiling at Tod and once again gave that awful bloody wink.
Tod professional as always gave that reassuring smile and nod and with a voice of concern, fake but required, "And now tell us what you can remember of that visit where you remember seeing Barry Cunningham visit 'Boys World'." Tod was worried about the next part of the question and made sure to look as trusting as possible. "There must be many customers every day? For you to remember Barry Cunningham he must have left some impression or to put it into other words … he must have been easy to remember?"
Sak did not pick up on the nuance and was quite comfortable to answer, "Oh, we remember customer well. Our job is to remember customer. What they like." Sak reached over the table and took his hand. He nearly jumped out of his skin in fright and every part of his body resisted the action. What was this man trying to do?
Sak's voice had gone all silky and seductive as he said, "Like you my customer." He was stroking his hand and interspersing this with a squeeze every now and then. "I look you. I see you strong man. You like boy not man. You like boy who look like girl. I must remember that."
Tod gently retrie
ved his hands back and made sure to place them under the table and out of reach of Sak. In his mind he was furiously thinking of what the footage would look like and his face. Disoriented by the move, he focused himself back to the present and without looking at Sak said, "Well if that was the case … but as a straight man maybe I don't understand the intricacies of this, um ... well there we have it."
Sak sat there and looked at him, a half- grimace, half-smile lurking on his lips clearly pleased with what he had done. Oddly he felt some form of respect for Sak in how he had played and lost to his opponent.
"Um, um ... was there anything that stood out about him," Tod asked. He then realized that this didn't sound good and quickly interjected with, "Well something that you can tell us about him."
Sak did not answer immediately, and then after some time said, "He visit many time to bar. We know his face and he like laugh. Boy like him. They say he is kind."
"Kind?" Tod repeated.
"Yes, they say good man. Kind man."
"But, by that, um ... do you mean, he was nice to them?"
