Beer gardens, girls and Mr Bean

I don't go out too often, but when I do I often head to this "beer garden" not far from my home. There are an array of options in Phnom Penh, aside from the hostess bars, including live music venues, trendy expat bars, clubs and local beer gardens. Lately, I have been choosing Sorya Beergarden 51, which hardly seems like a beer garden in the traditional sense, but rather one bar in the midst of several others.

Part of the Golden Sorya Mall on street 51, home to the infamous Heart of Darkness, the name lives up to its location, to say the least. The mall is basically a sex market, home to bars rather than shops with freelancing prostitutes and ladyboys in every direction, who are really the evening's entertainment whether they like it or not. I am merely window shopping, a spectator if you will, watching the action from one of the best seats in the house.

I approach the bar and one of the ladyboys says, with a lisp, excuse me sir, can I push in your stool? Not today, thanks as I quickly sit down and scoot in my own chair. I apologize, old jokes die hard. Kind of like Bruce Willis. He keeps coming back, just like the Terminator, whether we like it or not. I always liked that joke, even if it's a bit distasteful. I mean not to offend!

There actually aren't any ladyboys working at the bar, not that I'm aware of anyway. Even if there were, I would not be deterred because as I said, they are free entertainment and are usually quite stunning. Not to make them sound like a sideshow, but some are waaaay over the top. They make the women jealous and the men confused. Oh ladyboys, transsexuals of the Orient, you intrigue so many, unlike your counterparts in the West.

Back to the beer garden. I sit down. It is unusually crowded and I am forced to take a seat next to a couple of older gents. I order a Sprite and one of the men chuckles in my direction. I think really? I mean, I know it's a beer garden, but do I have to order a beer? It turns out he was laughing at one of the beer girls who was flashing her penis behind my back. Nah, she was pulling a face or something.

The older gents turned out to be Frenchmen living in Thailand who were escaping the Songkran festivities. I guess a week's worth of water fights takes its toll. Across the table was a deaf girl, who was chatting with her new boyfriend, who was wearing earplugs somewhat ironically. Her old boyfriend, Mr. Bean's doppelgänger, had returned to his country the week before. Unbeknownst to him, he was now being referred to as the old boyfriend.

Later in the evening I was writing Mr. Bean a text message, translated by one of the waitstaff who understood sign language and was embellishing to her heart's desire. I was telling him I missed him and that I was being a good girl visiting my family in the village. And that next time, I hoped to take him to my village and get married. And that I had recently been sick and had an IV and it was so expensive. Please send money. Sucker! I did feel bad for the guy.

And then there was the overly made up prostitute with the see through blouse and the huge padded bra. Lots of padded bras in these parts. A lot of tough girls in these parts. You'd have to be tough to be in this profession. There is a swagger to some of them that says don't fuck with me and thank you, I'll take your advice! Another girl, I knew from Siem Reap, comes by to punch me in the arm. Thanks. 

Meanwhile, the waitresses are doing their thing and asking if you want another beer while the glass is still half full. I can wait. They're all quite friendly and really make the place what it is. A virtual Cheers in Cambodia, a place where everyone knows your name, well at least recognizes your face. That's nice because usually we all look the same. I recognize a lot of faces myself including the older guy who does legal consulting, the guy with the beret and the sexed up girl who looks like she's missing her teeth.

A draft beer costs 60 cents. A pitcher costs $2, which drops the price per draft to 50 cents, but each successive beer is that much warmer and definitely not worth the reduced price. The beer is barely drinkable when it's cold. It's a local brew, either Angkor, Anchor or Cambodia and its only selling point is the price. The food, on the other hand, at least the pad thai, was quite good. They also have some shots for $1 and a rotating $2 cocktail. Easy on the wallet if you wish it to be.

One of the waitresses I have befriended comes over and starts complaining about her boyfriend. I just met him the previous week, but she says they are no longer together. He seemed alright to me, but no, he doesn't care about her, I am told. I've heard that before. He goes to the club and dances with other women. Oh the horror! She has no real proof that he's been unfaithful. She jokingly tells my neighbor that I am her boyfriend. She then takes out her mobile and inputs my telephone number. I'm that easy.

I see another girl I've seen on every single occasion I've been at this place. She's cute, but seems a bit too jazzed and it's not from drinking Red Bull. She told me she was going to Paris in a few days. That was a couple weeks ago. This time she has her niece in tow. Definitely not a place I'd want to bring my daughter. I feel sorry for the little girl and for a minute, I wished I was her father reading her a bedtime story instead of witnessing her current reality. Seeing all of this nonsense. Where were her parents?

At this point, I'm nearly at the end of my second drink of the evening, a bottle of water. After a few glances around to make sure I'm not missing anything, I decide to head home. It's only 10:30pm, but I've had my fill of entertainment for the evening. I say a quick goodbye to anyone in earshot and head over to the street, straddle my moto and quickly head home before my mind can convince me otherwise. As Arnold said, I'll be back. So will I.