Saigon, Saigon

Everything in Saigon seems to be about sex. To be more precise, everything in Saigon seems to be about paid sex. Two mates of mine and myself arrived here last Thursday and I don’t know if it’s the people we’ve run into, but the only thing we’ve found in huge supply is purchasable pussy.

Mind you, we’ve tried finding other things. We’ve tried going to clubs (and somehow end up being dragged to KTV), we’ve tried going out of our skulls (but instead were dragged to KTV) and tried eating good food (here we actually succeeded; the food in Saigon is very good).

The people here are all really jaded. Some of the blokes are real dogs, and treat the prossies like so much meat, for them to fondle and prod at their leisure. The girls’ enjoyment seems to be completely irrelevant, often you can see the obvious resignation to the fact written across their faces, with them not even needing to hide it. The blokes don’t care. They aren’t interested in the faces.

And yet, while they have this outlet they still have far too much testosterone to manage. Last night we had to jump in the middle of two guys we’d only met a few hours earlier to keep them from tearing into each other. They were brothers and they were fine most of the night and then suddenly they were trying to kill each other. They seemed to have many deep seated issues that needed resolution and instead of talking it over they just tucked it away. Of course, real men don’t show emotions, instead they just show the titties of the poor chick who had the misfortune of being ‘theirs’ for the night.

We really need to meet some people who can redeem Saigon for us. Maybe that’s the wrong phrase. It’s not so much ‘redeem’ as show us another side more fitting with the sordid parts of our souls. We shouldn’t pass judgement, as we’re just passing through.

But then it’s so much fun to judge, isn’t it? When they wrote in the bible ‘Thou shalt not judge, lest yea be judged' I don’t think they fully realised what they were asking.