Pedro & Irish Paul
Alright, so check this out, vatos. This one time, me and my homie Irish Paul decided to hit up one of them gentleman’s clubs in Pattaya, right? You know the kind of place—fancy lights, pretty girls, and music blasting like it’s a party every night.
So we roll up in there, and Paul’s already three sheets to the wind, slurring his words like a good Irishman. I’m just nursing my drink, trying to keep an eye on him so he don’t do anything too loco. But you know how Paul gets when he’s had a few too many, right?
He starts chatting up this girl, Aom, like he’s Rico Suave or something. I’m thinking, “Alright, Paul, you do you, man.” So he ends up taking her upstairs for some “private entertainment,” as they call it. I’m just chilling downstairs, chatting with the bartender, and maybe sampling some tequila, you know how it goes.
A couple of days later, Paul calls me up, sounding all panicked. He’s like, “Pedro, man, I got this rash and it’s burnin’ like I kissed the wrong end of a firecracker!” I’m dying laughing, trying to hold my breath because I knew this was coming. I tell him, “Bro, sounds like you picked up a little souvenir from your night with Aom.”
He freaks out, running around trying to find a clinic faster than you can say ‘arriba!’ I keep telling him, “Paul, man, it’s just a part of the adventure here in Pattaya. You got a story for life now, ese!” But he’s not having any of it, all worried about getting his chorizo fixed.
In the end, Paul learns his lesson the hard way. Now, every time we pass that club, I just give him a look and he turns red as a chili pepper, shaking his head. But hey, that’s what makes Pattaya unforgettable, right? Life’s full of surprises, and you just gotta roll with it and maybe keep some antibiotics on hand.
So we roll up in there, and Paul’s already three sheets to the wind, slurring his words like a good Irishman. I’m just nursing my drink, trying to keep an eye on him so he don’t do anything too loco. But you know how Paul gets when he’s had a few too many, right?
He starts chatting up this girl, Aom, like he’s Rico Suave or something. I’m thinking, “Alright, Paul, you do you, man.” So he ends up taking her upstairs for some “private entertainment,” as they call it. I’m just chilling downstairs, chatting with the bartender, and maybe sampling some tequila, you know how it goes.
A couple of days later, Paul calls me up, sounding all panicked. He’s like, “Pedro, man, I got this rash and it’s burnin’ like I kissed the wrong end of a firecracker!” I’m dying laughing, trying to hold my breath because I knew this was coming. I tell him, “Bro, sounds like you picked up a little souvenir from your night with Aom.”
He freaks out, running around trying to find a clinic faster than you can say ‘arriba!’ I keep telling him, “Paul, man, it’s just a part of the adventure here in Pattaya. You got a story for life now, ese!” But he’s not having any of it, all worried about getting his chorizo fixed.
In the end, Paul learns his lesson the hard way. Now, every time we pass that club, I just give him a look and he turns red as a chili pepper, shaking his head. But hey, that’s what makes Pattaya unforgettable, right? Life’s full of surprises, and you just gotta roll with it and maybe keep some antibiotics on hand.