The early morning light revealed nothing of what lay beneath the surface of the city.
Pattaya, southeast of Bangkok on the Gulf of Thailand, had lived up to its name–the Other Sin City. There was the familiar atmosphere of hedonism and excess that one would expect in Las Vegas. But layered upon this was Thailand’s own particular brand of indulgence. The Strip was not made of concrete and asphalt, flanked on both sides by neon signs and the distant hum of slot machines, but a stretch of sandy beach nearly 4 miles long, dotted here and there by coconut trees, fruit juice sellers, water sports advertisements. The entertainment was equally abundant but much “friendlier” than Westerners were accustomed; beauties would nuzzle alongside us as we walked through the streets, bragging about what their bars could offer, while others scantily-clad writhed and gyrated in time to American pop songs. There was something (or someone!) for almost any desire. The debauchery of Pattaya could only be best understood by first-hand experience or, in some unfortunate cases, hand-first experience.
