Her name was Dao. Met her in Soi 6, but she was different — sweet, shy, kept texting me outside of work hours. Took her shopping, bought her a phone, even let her stay at my condo. Two weeks later, I caught her blowing another guy in the room I paid for. She smiled and said, “You not my boyfriend, just customer.” That one hit deep.

I started thinking it was real. She cooked for me, stayed every night, even held my hand in public. Then I noticed she had two phones. One for me. One for other guys. Found out she was managing three other farangs like me — rotating stays, cash, gifts. She was making more off boyfriends than sex. I wasn’t heartbroken. I was impressed.

She stayed with me for five nights in a row. We cuddled, talked about her dreams, even had coffee in bed like a real couple. I gave her money “just to help,” not realizing she was seeing other guys the whole time. When I tried to book her again, she blocked me. Took my heart, my cash, and my ego.

I got emotionally played by a Pattaya bar girl. She made me believe I was special, then milked me for rent, a phone, and a visa. She vanished as soon as I left. Sex was amazing—but the heartbreak was worse.

Fell hard for a massage girl in Bangkok. Took her shopping, met her family, thought we were in love. Turns out I was just the latest sponsor in her rotation. The sex was sweet, the betrayal sour.

It was Pattaya, late 2022. I met her at a gogo bar and we hit it off immediately — long talks, genuine laughs, she even started turning down other customers when I walked in. We went for meals, movies, everything. I moved to a nicer hotel just for her. Then I started sending her money. Then she stopped replying. I came back to the bar one night, and there she was — with someone else. Same smile, same moves, like I’d never existed. I lost money, pride, and trust. Lesson learned: it’s a business.

Her name was Bee. Soi 7. She wasn’t the hottest girl in the bar, but she had this energy — real, raw, and vulnerable. We connected fast. I kept barfining her night after night. Thought I was special. She even said “I quit bar for you.” A week later I caught her with another guy at a different bar. Same story, different man. I’d bought her a phone, paid her rent, and even sent money to her “sick mom.” Turns out mom was fine. Got f*ed emotionally and financially. It wasn’t the sex that hurt — it was the stupid hope.

Been there, brother. Met a girl at a beer bar on Soi 7 — sweet, funny, felt different. Took her out for dinners, even paid her rent a couple times. Told myself it wasn’t just about sex… but deep down, I knew I was falling harder than she ever would.

She played the long game. One day she vanished — blocked on Line, gone from the bar, nothing. Found out later I was just one of three “boyfriends” funding her lifestyle. The sex was real. The connection? Probably not.

Hard lesson, but I don’t regret it. Just smarter now.