Nights at Sanam Luang

My university, Thammasat, is located next to Sanam Luang. I’ve always stayed late for band rehearsal, and evenings have brought some interesting sights. 

I found that the nearby streets and parks I can reach by walking are a sex market at night. I have never deliberately surveyed this market, but I can’t deny that features of male prostitutes’ lives have caught my eye. 

Saranrom Park, Ta Tien and Sanam Luang are the places I am talking about. Many of the male sex workers here have a different look from the guys in gogo bars. They look more like ordinary men than the metrosexual bar guys. 

One encounter I can’t forget was at the bus stop by the little park in front of the National Theatre. 

Night after night I waited here for the bus, never realising that this was one of their workplaces. Then, one night, a man told me that he didn’t have enough money to get back home and asked me for three baht. I knew it wasn’t enough for bus fare, so I questioned him to assure myself that he didn’t want the money for other purposes. The questions seemed to bore him and he walked away. Later, I recounted this story to a friend. He laughed out loud and told me that the “three baht” actually meant Bt300. The guy, he explained, was a prostitute. I blushed. 

Since then, I have had similar encounters, but my nighttime experiences around Thammasat haven’t stopped at being mistaken for a client. I have also been mistaken for a seller. 

The man trying to “purchase” me pulled over to the pavement in his car. I saw he was looking for a “friend” to ease his loneliness, so I pretended that I didn’t know his purpose and looked away. Five minutes later he drove by again, the same thing happened, and he drove away. 

I thought he had understood that I wasn’t a sex worker, but he was back again after 10 minutes. The third time round he parked the car, lowered the window and stared at me. Cars had pulled up many times when I was waiting for the bus, but those had always left quickly when I ignored them. This time I knew that if I opened my mouth to explain, he would refuse to take no for an answer and there would be an embarrassing scene. I decided to just smile and shake my head. Luckily, he drove away without a word.

Over several funny experiences like this, I have come to realise that there are many kinds of men who come here for sex. Some are simply-dressed ordinary guys, while others drive expensive pickup trucks. I don’t know whether they define themselves as gay, straight or bisexual, but this made me realise that men can have sex with men without the need to call themselves gay.