Et Tu, America?

        One more wat, this one with a 20-foot-high meditating bronze Buddha and a giant swing from which monks would try and catch money in their mouth while occasionally dying in the process (strange, but is this any weirder than eating trans fats?), and then we’re in a van to the beach.
        Specifically, Pattaya. My Let’s Go describes it as a town where Vietnam War soldiers would go for sordid r&r; either a lot of Thai girls find men 3 times their age and 5 times their weight dead sexy or not much has changed. Even at the Marriott, where we’re staying, it’s seedy enough that some pasty old shithead replies “You. HAHAHAHAHA!” when a worker asks him what he wants to drink.
        But, if you let wealthy white people fucking over locals ruin your vacation, there wouldn’t be very many locations to travel to:) We have oh-so-nicely-spicy curry / pat thai / etc., drink some solidly mediocre Thai beer, and book a scuba trip for tomorrow before retreating back to our hotel past a cabaret on a patio, guys merely motioning to much younger women before shoving tongues down their throats, and other generally sad sketchiness of men not comfortable enough with themselves to engage with women as equals…
       

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