One Night in BKK

I recently went out clubbing in Bangkok with my kids, to a place called ‘Curve’. It’s better suited to the younger generation, as to older clubbers like me the music sounds about as harmonious as finger-nails on a blackboard. My obvious dislike of the music seemed to make my kids like it even more though (well, if I’d liked it, they couldn’t possibly have felt cool doing the same, so maybe I was doing them a favour by disliking it).

Gaining entry was an unexpected drama. I’d advised my kids to take laminated copies of their passports along to prove their ages, so they got in OK. But I didn’t bother doing it myself, as it hardly seemed necessary.

You can imagine my surprise when I was asked for ID by the door-man, as I’m 33 years over the minimum age limit of 21. I was at first rather flattered. Then I wondered why he had asked. He was wearing glasses, but not the sort as thick as coke bottle bottoms, so presumably that wasn’t the problem. I was reasonably well-dressed and relatively sober, so why wouldn’t he admit me?

Eventually the club’s manager explained to me that it wasn’t that they doubted I was old enough to be allowed in, it was that they thought I was TOO old to be admitted. I was speechless. Then, in typical Thai style, his face broke into a huge grin: ”ha ha, just joking, but I fooled you, ha ha, we only need ID to help police”.

‘Curves’ is packed with young Thais every night of the week, doing one of the things they are best at – partying hard and peacefully to Thai dance music.

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