Free Private Dancer by Stephen Leather Page A

don't like us. They don't want us in their country.
    They won't let us buy land, and we have to leave every few months to get a new visa. If it wasn't for the fact that they want our money, they wouldn't even allow us in the country. They don't like the way we look, the way we smell, the way we behave. I absolutely one hundred per cent guarantee you that if a Thai girl says she loves you, she's lying. You see, love doesn't mean the same to a Thai that it means to us. When we say we love someone, we mean we want to spend the rest of our lives with them, we want to have children with them, that we think they're fun,

Private Dancer
    that we like the way they look, the way they screw. But a Thai, when a Thai girl says she loves you, what she means is, I want you to take care of me. And that's all she means.
    There's a guy comes in here to drink from time to time. Grows peanuts up north. He came over here after he left the Army. Met a girl, set her up in a house in Bangkok. Foreigners can't buy land in Thailand and this was a townhouse so it had to be in her name. They started up an import-export business and he was as happy as Larry. Then after two years he went to Malaysia on a visa run. He was only away a couple of days. When he got back she'd sold the house and the business and pissed off. He paid a private eye to track her down. She was back in her village with her husband and two kids. Damn near destroyed him, it did. He started drinking, pissed away what money he had left, and now he's up north, literally working for peanuts. Just another member of the legion of Sad Fucks.
    PETE Every night at eleven o'clock, all the girls in Zombie, those who hadn't had their bar fines paid,
    had to go up on one of the two stages and dance for about ten minutes. It was a hell of a sight,
    more than a hundred girls, most of them naked, dancing so close together that they were almost touching. It was a way of showing the customers what was available, I guess. I used to hate it. It was like a cattle market. Joy always used to stand next to her sisters and if I was there she'd grin and wave, but I never felt comfortable watching her. And if I didn't go to the bar, I always had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach at eleven, knowing that she was up on the stage and that guys were ogling her.
    After the mass dancing, there were a few shows. Nothing to compare with what went on in the upstairs bars in Patpong - a lesbian show and a show where one of the girls would paint another with luminous paint.
    One night, as Joy sat next to me watching the lesbian show, she put a hand on my thigh.
    “What you think, Pete?” she asked, nodding at the stage. Two girls, both friends of Joy, were writhing on a blanket. On the other stage, two girls were doing a similar show, trying in vain to synchronise their movements with a slow Thai love song. “It's okay,” I said, not sure what she meant.
    “Mamasan want me do,” said Joy.
    “The lesbian show? Why?”
    Joy beamed. "She say I very pretty. Farangs want to see girl with long hair do lesbian show.
    She want me do with Wan."
    “What does Wan think?” I asked.
    “She need money. She want to do.”
    “How much do they pay if you do the show?”
    “Ten thousand baht.”
    I was surprised. That was a lot of money, more than a good secretary would earn in a month working for a multinational company in Bangkok. “How many shows?” I asked.
    "Lesbian show every night. Then go upstairs to G-spot for shower show. What you think,
    Pete? If you not want me do, I not do."
    She looked at me earnestly, waiting to see what I'd say. I felt flattered because it was clear she was serious. It really was up to me. I watched the two girls on the stage. One was lying on her back while the other licked her breasts and fondled her between the legs. “You can do that?” I asked Joy.
    She nodded. “Easy,” she said.
    Two fat Germans were leaning forward, leering at the girls. I didn't like the idea of Joy