I don't mean to get off on a rant here, and I'm certainly no expert.
but...
I recently returned from the land of braced, near perfect smiles. So comparing our local haunts to the sister establishments across the border would be just plain cruel. And since my esteemed co-contributer feels so negatively about hostess bars in general I though the context was ripe to chime in with a few of my own Real Phnom Penh Hostess Bar Stories...
First off, I'm really not singling anyone out. Okay, scratch that... I am. But only to illustrate a point and because a set of them have come to represent everything I dislike about the genre. They're definitely not alone, they have plenty of company. And then there are others I truly enjoy consistently. So what's the difference?
Consider a set we'll simply call the numbered bars. We all know them. Some of us like them. Pattaya trashmen frequent them. And they all have the same basic theme: girls for rent, some of the more fetching ones dance on the bar, but most mull around fishing for lady drinks in an otherwise unremarkable joint. The TGI Fridays Group of Cambodian hostess bars.
I used to have an okay time in them. Until I started having consistently shitty times, then I bailed. My reasons? Well, I reckon the ads should read '...drop by for tedious two year old club music spun at eardrum-shattering volumes, or chat with a mercenary lady drink hustler over a grossly overpriced beverage.' Also, seems the bars I'm made to feel very welcome in are owned or operated by, shall we say, munificent proprieters. 'nuff said. In all fairness I've never been hassled for a lady drink there. Nor have I bought one, which probably explains the attention I usually recieve in those places. Then again do I really need to pay for the privelage of being asked my name or where I come from for the trillionth time? The question 'what's your job?' results in 'Coconut Salesman' so many times I still blurt it out at job interviews. But last night I thought fuck it. I'll give it another shot.
It started out more or less okay but the screeching volume soon had me stuffing Kleenex back in my ears as usual. The torment ended when the power started cycling on and off (hint: a new breaker is like a $5 hit). The power eventually got sorted and the music came on even louder, cranked up by the owner himself. Signaling to pay my bill I handed over a fresh Benjamin and was asked if I had anything smaller. 'sorry, afraid not' I sez. At this the waitress nodded in the direction of my friend and suggested he pay for me. Eyebrows raised now, 'uhhh... NO, why should he be on the hook when it's you guys who should have the change?'. I countered 'look, how about you give me a pen, I'll sign the bill and pay next time I'm in?'. Impossible apparently, even though the friend to my left had done just that twice in previous weeks. Male K staff approaches and suggests we go out together to make change. Reasonable options exhausted, Benji returns to my hip and going, going, gone never felt so right. Don't worry, I'll be back soon to take care of that.
Apparently some other guys were whooping it up at a different #ed bar buying drinks for themselves and some of the girls. Wanting to continue the festivities elsewhere they moved to pay the BF for some of the girls but were blocked by the proprieter. Apparently they didn't buy enough lady drinks to be eligable to buy them out. Maybe the management should consider attending a workshop in Thailand to review the history and theory behind the barfine concept. Anyway, just an idea.
I recently returned from the land of braced, near perfect smiles. So comparing our local haunts to the sister establishments across the border would be just plain cruel. And since my esteemed co-contributer feels so negatively about hostess bars in general I though the context was ripe to chime in with a few of my own Real Phnom Penh Hostess Bar Stories...
First off, I'm really not singling anyone out. Okay, scratch that... I am. But only to illustrate a point and because a set of them have come to represent everything I dislike about the genre. They're definitely not alone, they have plenty of company. And then there are others I truly enjoy consistently. So what's the difference?
Consider a set we'll simply call the numbered bars. We all know them. Some of us like them. Pattaya trashmen frequent them. And they all have the same basic theme: girls for rent, some of the more fetching ones dance on the bar, but most mull around fishing for lady drinks in an otherwise unremarkable joint. The TGI Fridays Group of Cambodian hostess bars.
I used to have an okay time in them. Until I started having consistently shitty times, then I bailed. My reasons? Well, I reckon the ads should read '...drop by for tedious two year old club music spun at eardrum-shattering volumes, or chat with a mercenary lady drink hustler over a grossly overpriced beverage.' Also, seems the bars I'm made to feel very welcome in are owned or operated by, shall we say, munificent proprieters. 'nuff said. In all fairness I've never been hassled for a lady drink there. Nor have I bought one, which probably explains the attention I usually recieve in those places. Then again do I really need to pay for the privelage of being asked my name or where I come from for the trillionth time? The question 'what's your job?' results in 'Coconut Salesman' so many times I still blurt it out at job interviews. But last night I thought fuck it. I'll give it another shot.
It started out more or less okay but the screeching volume soon had me stuffing Kleenex back in my ears as usual. The torment ended when the power started cycling on and off (hint: a new breaker is like a $5 hit). The power eventually got sorted and the music came on even louder, cranked up by the owner himself. Signaling to pay my bill I handed over a fresh Benjamin and was asked if I had anything smaller. 'sorry, afraid not' I sez. At this the waitress nodded in the direction of my friend and suggested he pay for me. Eyebrows raised now, 'uhhh... NO, why should he be on the hook when it's you guys who should have the change?'. I countered 'look, how about you give me a pen, I'll sign the bill and pay next time I'm in?'. Impossible apparently, even though the friend to my left had done just that twice in previous weeks. Male K staff approaches and suggests we go out together to make change. Reasonable options exhausted, Benji returns to my hip and going, going, gone never felt so right. Don't worry, I'll be back soon to take care of that.
Apparently some other guys were whooping it up at a different #ed bar buying drinks for themselves and some of the girls. Wanting to continue the festivities elsewhere they moved to pay the BF for some of the girls but were blocked by the proprieter. Apparently they didn't buy enough lady drinks to be eligable to buy them out. Maybe the management should consider attending a workshop in Thailand to review the history and theory behind the barfine concept. Anyway, just an idea.
That's just my opinion, I may be wrong...
Oh... and Flora, NO Bar, NN * Bar, My Lien, Shanghai, Sharky, Wa, Zep, and of course M... keep up the good work and see y'all real soon!
Oh... and Flora, NO Bar, NN * Bar, My Lien, Shanghai, Sharky, Wa, Zep, and of course M... keep up the good work and see y'all real soon!
1 comment:
Amen! For the last few years many places in PPenh and Snooky have begun to imitate the lunacy of Pattaya. Few bar owners understand that 100db music and outrageous drink prices are the bane of their business, lest they solicit only drunk farangs/barangs or those infirm few with broken hearing aids.
Any place whose ambiance prevents me from chatting with friends generates a prompt chek-bin/khet loey (sp?)
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