Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Thats Not Karaoke!

Siem Reap
After a couple of memorable days touring the ancient temples around Siem Reap, I take my guides reccomendation and attend a very touristy cultural dinner show at one of the local hotels.

Not my cup of tea, but it was very enjoyable and well worth a look. After the show my guide meets me for a ride back to the hotel. We are joined by a fellow tuk tuk driver with whom I am vaguely familiar. They both insist that I join them for a drink at one of their local haunts.

It is a nice place, and I am the only white guy in the place. We share a few drinks, I partake in some frog (tastes like chicken!) and we are all having a good time. It is then agreed that we should go to a karaoke bar. Sounds good to me.

We arrive at some mammoth complex. As we enter the building we are greeted by a guantlet of young women, eight on each side, bowing as we enter. I am starting to get the vibe that this may not be the place for me. We take an elevator twenty floors up, or at least the button says twenty. Things quickly get wierder as we are led into an empty room with leather couches, private washroom, and a karaoke machine, complete with big screen.

We are also provided with our own karaoke hostess and waitress. Clearly, this is not my definition of a karaoke bar. Fortunately, before things can proceed my tuk tuk friend gets a call from my guide Pov. It seems that he has been refused entry and we leave.

As we head somewhere else, I implore Pov to take me somewhere that he would take his mother. But again we end up in a carbon copy of the previous establishment, though this time things have progressed far enough that drinks have been ordered and a dozen young women have been escorted into the room, presumeably for our selection.

Recoiling, I excuse myself and head for the private washroom. Given that my guide paid the previous tab I am on the hook for this one. I just didn't realize that the menu would be so (s)extensive.

I walk out of the washroom, through the line of young ladies, give my guide enough to cover the previous tab, wish them luck and leave against their protestation.

Is it so incomprehensible that a single male might want to travel the world without having sex with hookers? When I was in Ghana, one lady whose affections I spurned asked me if I was a eunech. Ya know what, when it comes to having sex with hookers, I may as well be.

Get it? Got it? Good.