Thailand Dispatch — What a job!

| Mar 18, 2013
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Few of us like working for a living; yet we all need to earn money to live, to feed and clothe ourselves, provide shelter and so on. And, I dare say, most of us have jobs which, whilst not always enjoyable are tolerable, acceptable; and, of course, provide the money we need for us to live reasonably well.

Imagine then, needing money to materially change your life; imagine having to have that money to redress something innately wrong with/within you; something so wrong that it affects your whole life. Imagine having to have that money at all costs?

So, what would you do? How would you handle it? Especially if you hadn’t been given the opportunities for a reasonable education; hadn’t been able to progress in any career owing to society’s prejudices; through no real fault of your own hadn’t been able to work in any position other than relatively menial positions . . . and all the time the needs, the wants, the desires to become the person who you really are have been dominating your life.

Despair, depression and all of the emotional issues which go with being born in the wrong body, being Transgender are with you every day; each and every day.

Looking for a way out (which doesn’t involve some form of criminal activity!)? Looking for a way to earn that money as quickly as you can, without having to wait until you are ‘’past it’,” too old, no longer beautiful — before achieving what you want?

Sometimes there is only one choice; one stark, unpleasant choice….

Maybe it’s just me, but I find it hard to imagine having a job much worse than sitting around for hours on end in a noisy, dark smoky atmosphere (admittedly looking as good as one can) waiting for aged, male customers to turn up; customers who want to engage in idle, nonsensical chatter (I refrain from calling this conversation); deluding themselves that you are interested in them, ploughing themselves with alcoholic drinks (whilst you accept the obligatory ‘’lady drinks’’ which, in reality, are nothing more than cold tea); listening to customers singing off key, out of tune, out of time, stumbling over the words . . . and cajoling you to listen to their drunken crooning. Maybe even join in with them.

Welcome to the “dreaded world” of the karaoke “hostess” — one of few options available for Ladyboys in Thailand to garner enough money for the operation or operations they so desperately need.

And all the time, as you sit through the charade, you’re knowing, fearing, dreading that the worst of the evening is yet to come. The time when, once sated with alcohol, the customer needs to be sated sexually. And no matter how ugly, how obese, how drunk he is, you have to go with him; comply with his wishes, accede to his demands as, after all, you are only a piece of merchandise, a chattel (once he’s paid the obligatory ‘’bar fine,” the payment to the bar to take you out for the night, that is); you’re simply an object to satisfy the inebriated lust of the male animal.

Sure, don’t get me wrong, Ladyboys like sexual activity as much as the rest of the human species . . . but given a choice it’ll be with someone they desire, someone they like, love . . . whatever; not some stranger who seems to believe that because Transgendered females are different to other girls, their sexual antics are also different; more often than not perverse or, maybe that should be perverted, I’m not sure.

Quite why “normal” men like to go with Ladyboys when they swear blind they are heterosexual, no-one really knows; quite who they think they are trying to convince when they, again, usually strenuously, deny the fact they are engaging in sexual acts with someone else with a penis, again no-one knows.

Yet, the poor Ladyboy has to oblige, has to perform, no matter what the sexual act requires.

Yes. Yes, I know this goes for any “lady of the night” who is forced to sell her body to survive, to carve out a living but, in my opinion, it’s far, far worse to have to work for a living this way, when all you are trying to do is get enough money to correct an unfortunate mix up of nature which has left you with a body which doesn’t match your brain.

What a job!

Available from Club Lighthouse Publishing

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Category: Transgender Body & Soul, Transgender Opinion

Christine B

About the Author ()

Christine has written numerous (at least 150) articles, columns, op-eds, features & stories for well known T magazines, websites & e-zines; she also works as a part time fiction editor for Club Lighthouse Publishing, and is a co-editor of an award winning T-girl Magazine. In addition, she has written 8 adult books mainly in the T sub-genre which have been published by Club Lighthouse Publishing, for whom she has been the best selling author for the last 5 years.

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