Voyeurism as an Olympic Event
The Old Roue was in Pattaya for a break from Bangkok. I hadn’t visited Walking Street for ages and told my wife I would only be a few hours. She said fine. She knew what I was like and were set off for the night with her blessing. Between the two of us the Old Roue and I had about 70 years of patronizing strip clubs. We’ve seen most of it all, but were still amazed by the mesmerization of men when confronted by a naked woman.
Men have been gawking since Eve bit into the apple and humankind lost its innocence. First thing they realized was that they were naked and Eve forced Adam to wear leaves. He kept it to a minimum and didn’t say anything about Eve wearing a skimpy bikini. And neither do the bar-goers frequenting the dancing troupes on Walking Street, for few males are god-fearing after midnight in Pattaya, as demonstrated by the bars crowded with observers from many nations and I suggested that they were in training for the International Gawking Olympics.
“Sounds like an all male event.”
“Women glare instead of gawk.” I was familiar with my wife’s piercing gaze and ordered another vodka tonic. Once I’ve had three I’m more interested in the next drink than naked women.
“A withering gawk.” The Old Roue had been married once back in the last century. he had nothing to fear as did the rest of the men in the bar. Eyes wide open and mouth agape like sex-crazed pirates after a yearlong cruise of plunder.
We discussed the various nations’ strengths and narrowed the medal challengers to three Asian countries. “#3 has to be the Indonesians. In Bali the beach boy gigolos would bore holes through the bungalow walls to watch naked fat tourist chicks.”
“#2 has to be the Indians in Goa. They’ll stand five feet away from a fat tourist girl and not even pretend not to stare.”
“No shame.” I had witnessed their silver medal performance in Goa. “#1 goes to the Pakis. But they really don’t have any occasion to practice, since no females get naked in Pakistan.”
“Just because they can’t train doesn’t mean they won’t score the gold. Everything porno store in LA is run by Pakis. They are the best. Any repressed males are.”
“What about America?”
“Women in America are to fat to gawk at. Almost like you have to look at the ground rather than a woman in the mall. Plus they’re all so angry.”
Yeah, It’s better to look at your shoes.” It hadn’t been that way.
Americans loved strippers. With the religious right enforcing their no sin zones, gawking had become a lost art in the USA. Two sailors at Heaven Above a Go Go were drooling. They were only 19. They had no protection against the sight of a naked woman. “All they get to look at is the Sport Illustrated swimming issue in most towns.”
“And those girls are stick figures.”
“Not all, plus there’s all the girls on the internet XXX sites.”
“Don’t count. They’re not real.”
“They’re not.” Like millions of American men I couldn’t believe this. They had names. They smiled and didn’t scold if I looked at them for hours. They never asked where I had been and if I had been looking at other women. They never seemed jealous. Even if I never paid for their time. I fell in love with several. And cried if my computer crash during our date. But the Old Roue was right. They weren’t flesh. Not on the computer and that’s why the USA will never win the gold.
We only live for dreams.
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