2009.
I’ve been in America almost ten months. The longest stay in my native land for over twenty years. In that time I have only visited one go-go bar, the dreadful KitKat Klub in West Palm Beach. The dancers at that dubious fleshpot sport 50-long breasts slung over their shoulders like deflated airbags. Their hairstyles dated back to high school graduations in the 1980s. They were that old and I refused their every entreaty for a lap dance, fearing that their gyrations might leave an indelible stain on my clothing.

Beasts and Jamie Parker was more than amused by my tales of this hellhole.

Jamie Parker lives in Pattaya, the last Babylon. Even the most horrible go-go lounge at that tawdry beach resort was better than the KitKat Klub. This week he called after a night on the town with Sam Royalle.

“We went to What’s Up and Heaven Above. Drank tequila and groped naked girls.” Jamie’s voice was slurred by the excess of the evening. “You know Ort is working there now?”

“I haven’t spoken to Ort since I left Pattaya.” Supporting my wife and mia noi was enough of a burden without taking on the responsibility of a geek, the Thai word for an informal sexual partner, plus Jamie was smitten with Ort.

“She said she missed you.”

“More like she missed my buying her ice.” Ort loved having sex on ice. She would lie on her back and murmur, “So good.”

“No, she asked if you were good.”

“You didn’t say anything about my coming back?” My target ETA date was 4/1. I didn’t want anyone to know I was in Thailand before I was willing to tell them. I needed a few days of wickedness to get the taint of America out of my system.

“No, but I took her upstairs to the Galaxy Suites. Short time. It was like paradise. Me, her, and a couple of hits of ice.”

“Stop.” I had given up all drugs for Lent. “That is more a description of hell than heaven.”

“I bet if it was you instead of me in that room with Ort, you wouldn’t feel that way.”

“I’m not betting anything.” I was saving my money for my trip.

“Good, because you know you would lose. Anyway after we finished, she said she was thinking about you.”

“Probably because she knew you would call me.” Thai go-go girls have a great intuition, mostly since most men are so predictable. “How she look?”

“Like Satan’s little Angel.”

“That’s our girl.”

I hung up with dreams of Hell on Earth so attainable at Heaven Above.

Check out the website www.heavenabovepattaya.com

If only I could click my heels, I’d sell my soul in a heartbeat.