The mama-san of the Chic Bar watched her two best girls leave the front terrace. Nat and Ping said that they were getting some som-tam. All the girls on Soi 6 loved the fiery mango salad. Anyone from Isaan called the popular dish Tam mak hoong. The two short-timers waved down a passing motorcycle with an attached sidecar. The vendor was well known on Soi 6 and her afternoon passage from Second Road to Beach Road could take as much as an hour. The mama-san shouted for Nat to order enough for the rest of her staff. They deserved a reward for the afternoon?s work. 25 farangs short-time. 200 baht a room plus drinks came to about 7000 baht for the bar and at least 15,000 baht for the girls who went upstairs with a farang. Nat and Ping had gone three times each, but Ping?s young cousin was the winner with five farangs. The 18 year-old was a gold mine.

Ping sat on a chair. Her body felt like she had been beaten by her father. Her legs were wobbling with exhaustion. Every man had taken their full hour with her. At least they had tipped her well thanks to the passionate moaning with each thrust, but she wasn’t sure that she could take much more of this.

Not today.

Not tomorrow.

She wanted to run to the end of the street and throw herself in the sea. Only the beach was too well patrolled by the police and the shallow water wasn’t deep enough for her purpose. Two fat farangs eyed her from the street. They nudged each other and came over to speak with her.

“You go short-time, little thing?” The man was in his 50s. His belly protruded like he had swallowed a million beers. Something about the way he smiled said that he thought himself handsome.

“No, can not boom boom.” Ping weighed less than 41 kilos. Sex with farangs was not the same as Thai boys who finished in a few minutes. Farangs ate special medicine to have long erections. She hated them for eating that jah. It wasn’t fair.

“Why not?” His friend was even bigger. Ten beers before noon. Another five this afternoon. His eyes were the color of boiled ham. He reached into his pocket for his money. His fat hand pulled out a 1000-baht note. “You not like men? Maybe you like lady. I pay to see you and other lady.”
“I not lesbian.” Ping belonged back home in her village. She was only here to pay for her brother not to go to jail. She sent money to her mother and father. It was never enough. Once she saved her brother, her uncle needed money for his tractor. After that it was the sick buffalo. Then her mother wanted to buy pigs. No one in her family ever asked what Ping wanted from life. Only farangs and they wanted one thing. “Pai ke ki. I not want man now.”

“If you don’t want a man, then why are you working here?” The fatter of the two laughed out loud. “This is a street for sex. Not eating. Not drinking. Sex. You come here, because men give you money, so you can send your family. Here I give you more money to have sex with me. Even more if you have sex with the two of us.”

The man was waving 5000 baht in Ping’s face. It could have been a million. She didn?t want any man. Not anymore. Por laeo. Enough was enough. She tried to push the big man away. He was too strong and thought her pathetic effort was funny. Ping looked to the other girls to help her, but they were laughing too. She had been queen of the Chic bar for only a few weeks and they were looking for her downfall.

None of them happier than to see someone fall to the bottom.

“Fuck off, fat man.” Oom hit the fatter man in the head with a high heel. He went to his knees like a buffalo hit in the head with a nail. His friend tried to stop Oom. He had to be three times her weight, but he never saw Nat come up behind him with her shoe.

She struck him twice in the back, then scratched at his face. The motorsai taxi boys joined the fracas and the two farangs were soon spurting blood, as they ran for safety. Nat picked up the 5000 baht. She took one, handed another to Oom and then gave the other three to Ping.

“Why you not tell him go away?” Nat was heavy-set. Some western men liked big girls. She would do anything too. They liked that also. At her age she had to do anything to get kaks. The customers on Soi 6 liked girls young and Nat was anything but young these days.
“I tell him go. He not go.” Ping was sniffling away the tears.

“You not tell him ‘fuck off’. Farang understand ‘fuck off’. Not understand ‘go away’.”

Nat waved for the som-tam lady to bring the salads to the terrace and then said to the other girls. “You get nothing. You not help little sister. I remember this. You all same dog.”

Calling a Thai person a dog was very bad, but all the girls at the Chic bar were scared of Nat. She had been in the Monkey House twice for fighting other girls. The older short-timer knew dirty tricks. Both in bed and on the street.

“Listen to pi-Nat,” her cousin suggested while forking shredded mango into her mouth. She handed Ping a fork too. ?She know farang. She know many thing. Know how to make love. Not hurt. Not make you tired. Maybe tonight she tell you.”

“Tell you many times, but now eat. Eat too much and then drink whiskey. Forget everything. Good.” Nat smiled at Ping like a long-lost sister. “We family now nong-Ping.”

“Thank you pi-Nat.” Ping wai-ed the bigger woman. She and Oom had saved her from the two farangs. She would not forget this act. They were all family now.

“Fuck farang.”

The three girls laughed and pointed to three old farangs walking down the street.

“Fuck farangs. Big money. Small money. Fuck farangs.”

And for the first time that day Ping was happy.