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It was supposed to be a spiritual journey.
I pictured myself in white linen, maybe sitting under a banyan tree while a monk blessed me with ancient wisdom. Instead, I was on Khaosan Road, sweating through a tiny plastic chair, staring into the frosty green label of my first Heineken in fifteen years.

This was no ordinary beer, it was liberation in a bottle. The first swig was like a temple bell echoing through my soul. My bitch ex-wife Katy (may she live a long and joyless life) had forbidden me from drinking alcohol within the first year of our marriage. Said it was “for my health” and “for our future.” Our future turned out to be her fucking the neighbor, so I figured the ban was lifted.

I took a sip and tried to absorb the energy of Bangkok. Every club on the street was blasting music like it was a competition and I was still jet-lagged. European Backpackers in elephant pants shuffled past like dazed extras from a low-budget jungle movie. Somewhere down the street, a young Thai guy was shredding classic rock songs on a guitar.

And then I got a call. It was Kurt.

Kurt’s the kind of guy that does most of the talking when he calls, and I do most of the listening.

“Well howdy there Jim,” he said. “What the fuck are you doing in Bangkok!? You know, my buddy Greg lives in Pattaya. You need to get down there immediately. Not now, but right now!”

I tried to explain to him, that I was on a spiritual pilgrimage, headed north to Chiang Mai to be with the elephants. Real, actual elephants.

He laughed. “Fuck the elephants. You need to go down and meet Greg. He can show you where everything is. Why not, you miserable fuck? It’s just two days in Pattaya.”

I repeated it to myself. Just two days in Pattaya. It had a nice ring to it. Like a harmless vacation add‑on. A pit stop before enlightenment.

And so I ordered another Heineken, went back to my room and booked a bus for the next morning.

Somewhere deep down, a small voice told me this was a mistake.

The next day, I stepped off the bus in Pattaya with my luggage and the words “just two days” still rattling around in my head.

Greg was nowhere to be found so I caught a taxi into the city. Kurt had assured me there’d be a proper welcome, but instead I rolled my suitcase down a street called Soi Buakhao until I found a budget hotel in Pattaya. Booking ahead on agoda.com would’ve saved me the sweat and luggage haul — tons of cheap, last-minute rooms.

The room had a bed, a fridge, and a balcony view of the street below. I stocked the fridge with Heinekens from the 7‑Eleven and figured I’d ease into the city slowly.

I got hungry and decided to get some food from the bar next door.

There I met Mick, an older Aussie who couldn’t stop ranting about Donald Trump. Then he says “Mate, you gotta see Soi Chaiyapoon,” I nodded, because why not?

He led me over to a street covered in potholes and lined with bars, each one bursting with music, and “hello welcome” greetings from every direction. That’s when Mick explained the bar bell. “You ring it, you buy a round for everyone. Instant legend status.”

I was only three Heinekens in, so I was maintaining my composure. I rang the bell. All the girls screamed, drinks appeared from nowhere, and I knew I’d made my mark on Pattaya nightlife.

The next thing I remember, I was waking up, back in my room wearing one shoe and no shirt. My wallet was only about 6,000 baht lighter which isn’t too much in USD.

I told myself it was all good, as I was only gonna be there a couple days anyway.

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Be sure to check out Living in Thailand as an American Man (2025 Guide)

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The next afternoon, I’m nursing a recovery beer when some British dude in a golf outfit tells me I’ve been “playing in the kiddie pool.” He leans in like he’s giving out confidential information. “Mate, You want to see Pattaya nightlife? You need to go to Soi 6.”

So off I went — and then it went off!

Soi 6 was like nothing I had ever experienced. Music colliding from every direction, open‑front bars packed with beautiful girls in skimpy outfits who spotted me and reacted like I’d just won the lottery. Before I could process it, one had me by the wrist, another by the shirt, and a third was hanging off my shoulder yelling “Oh my God, handsome man! I miss you so much” Mind you, I had never seen this girl in my life. If you’ve ever watched a nature video where a group of lions jump on a gazelle and tear it limb from limb, that’s how it was… and I was the gazelle.

I tried to greet them all which was impossible. Every time I smiled, another beer appeared in my hand. One girl was laughing at something I said, another was tugging me toward the pool table, another was adjusting my collar like I was about to go on stage. It was good to be back in my element.

At some point in the evening, I let myself get pulled into another bar. Within seconds a girl was sitting on each knee, two more were feeding me peanuts, and someone was massaging my shoulders. The music was pounding, beers kept coming, and I figured word must have gotten around that I was in town. By this time, my 15 years of no beers had turned into 15 beers in one go.

One of the girls really seemed to take a liking to me, her name was Pom. She was in the stool next to me rubbing my thigh and telling me how much she liked my blue eyes. Drinks kept coming, we laughed, more drinks appeared, and after a while she leaned in and said, “I go with you long time.”

That’s when she explained to me about the bar fine. To me, it sounded like a perfectly reasonable next step in the evening.

Pom didn’t just go with me, she took over.
From the moment we left Soi 6, she was in charge of the route, the bars, the drinks, even which chair I sat in. Every place we stopped, she ordered faster than I could open my wallet, and every time my beer was empty, another heiny slid in like magic. It was awesome!

We didn’t “see” Pattaya in the tourist‑brochure sense. We saw it the Jim‑and‑Pom way: bar to bar, laughing loud enough to turn heads, me playing pool badly, Pom clapping like I’d just sunk the eight ball at the world championship. She was really in to me and had already professed her love profusely. I told her that I had planned to see the elephants in Chiang Mai so she took me to see the elephants in Pattaya. Best part about it, everything was so affordable. For instance, to get in the Elephant Sanctuary cost me 1,500 Baht, which is only like 10 bucks!

The “handsome man” chorus continued everywhere I went. It didn’t matter if it was the same girls from earlier or complete strangers. Every shout made me walk taller, lean back a little more, talk a little louder. I wasn’t just visiting Pattaya anymore, I was a local now and it felt like I was a celebrity. Pom wouldn’t let me out of her sight for even a minute.

Some nights we made it to the beach, and I felt like I was really starting to embrace Thai culture. Other nights we never made it past the first bar. Always drinks. Always cheers. Always someone tugging me toward the bell which I must’ve rang 20 times. I was hammered everyday and having a blast.

Mornings were a blur of sunlight, fried chicken, and Pom smiling like she knew something I didn’t. Which, in hindsight, she definitely did.

Halfway through what I was still calling “just two days in Pattaya,” Pom said we should visit her family in Udon Thani. She pitched it as a nice little trip to the countryside — meet the family, have some food, relax. Sounded wholesome to me.

When we got there, her whole family was waiting. Big smiles, hugs, and a chorus of “your boyfriend so handsome”. I shook every hand, posed for every photo, and let myself get swept into the warmth of it all. No one seemed to care that I was 35 years older than Pom… the culture is different in Thailand.

Then, Pom’s mom said they were having a party that night. Pom leaned in and asked if I could give her mom 5,000 baht to cover the food. I thought, Why not? Five thousand baht was only like fifty bucks anyway, a small price for what was clearly shaping up to be my grand introduction as the star guest.

By sunset, tables were piled with food, beer was flowing, and music was blaring. Every few minutes someone would give me a beer or hand me something to eat. I didn’t know half of what I was eating, but I smiled through it like a champ.

It wasn’t until much later that Pom whispered the words “engagement party.” I just raised my glass and went with it.

Pom’s “cousin” showed up to the party. Wiry, shirt unbuttoned, the eyes of a man who had strong opinions about me. He muttered something in Thai, pointed at me, then reached into his pocket and produced a knife the size of a small machete.

Before I could even stand, half the uncles had swarmed him, laughing like it was a scene they’d watched a dozen times. The knife disappeared, the cousin was dragged away, and the party rolled on.

I leaned over to Pom. “What’s wrong with him?”

She shrugged like it was no big deal. “Oh, my cousin gets like that when he’s drunk.”

It was only later that I’d find out he wasn’t her cousin. He was her boyfriend in Udon Thani!

By day four in Udon Thani, I was starting to piece it together. Pom kept me drinking from the moment I woke up, her mom dropped by daily for another “borrow” of 1,000 baht, and the kitchen whispers had turned into full‑blown wedding plans.

Every morning, I’d take my usual walk to the ATM. One morning, I finally opened my banking app and was in shock. The number staring back at me was a lot smaller than it had been when I’d arrived in Thailand. Way smaller.

That’s when I knew I had to move.

At 5:00 a.m., I slipped out of bed, grabbed my wallet, passport, and laptop. Then crept outside with the stealth of a ninja in yesterday’s clothes. My bag stayed behind — way too risky. I walked a couple blocks, then opened a taxi app to have a car come get me at 7/11. My heart was pounding and I just knew that I was gonna get caught in the act of fleeing.

I knew Pom would head straight for the Udon Thani bus terminal if she realized I was gone, so when the driver pulled up, I leaned in and said, “Can you take me to Khon Kaen instead?” It’s the next big town over. He looked surprised, gave me a price, and I told him, “Okay, let’s go now.” If you ever need a quick exit like I did, book a private ride on GetTransfer. Sometimes a silent getaway is the smartest move.

Two hours later, I was stepping out at Khon Kaen’s bus terminal, a ghost in the wind. I bought a bus ticket to Bangkok, kept my head down in the crowd, and slid into a seat on the first bus out.

As we pulled onto the highway, my phone lit up with Pom’s Line messages. Broken hearts and crying face emojis. I had just dodged a major bullet.

By late afternoon, I was back in Bangkok, checked into a hotel, and looking at flights on my laptop while having a cold beer. I booked the first flight home I could find. If you ever need to get out fast, Kiwi.com has solid deals on last-minute flights. It wasn’t the ending I planned, but then again, I never plan my endings. And by the time I got home, I was already thinking about my next trip to Pattaya…

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Wherever you’re headed, the Passport Bros Field Guide will keep you one step ahead of the game.