CallMeLee

Yes, there's a third brother and I met him with his other mates last year as T and I were going out of that 7-11 near Raya. T did mention that he's also for hire but I didn't really entertained the thought.

So sorry fam! I got the older brother written as Boy-Tony in my Line account. And both of them respond back when I call them as Tony and Min ---- maybe they are just being polite and don't want to correct me 😁😁😁

T sometimes introduce himself as Boy.

Yeah, overall T is good company. From my experience, he initially came off as someone who’d try to squeeze as much money as possible from you—but I guess that’s pretty common with bar guys. One incident that stands out: he once claimed I had agreed to pay him 5,000 for an ST, which wasn’t true. That led to him getting sent back to rotation and me offing someone else. Since then, he’s become more of an “up to you” type rather than quoting ridiculous amounts. One good thing about his “hustling” nature is that when we go out, he always looks after me and makes sure to negotiate prices—he’s worried I’ll get charged tourist rates if I speak English. He’s Vietnamese but speaks Thai fluently, like his brother. That said, between the two, I find the younger one more endearing and less transactional.

I did but separately. But given how openly they talk about and suggested offing them as a pair, I would say it has happened before. Yes! From Da Nang according to them. True but I think even with the decline of that "informal charm", given Tawan/The One's small intimate space, the chance of making contact and having small talk with several guys has always been a given every visit. Different case with Atlas where the guys have their own spot to congregate and the space to guys ratio is so big it's so easy to be isolated in a corner and be/feel invisible.

Agree with T being a hustler and he did attempted some of his tricks prior and even more recently. My approach has always been consistent either send him back to the rotation and not invite him to sit with me even when he's giving me googly eyes from the stage or even brazenly approach me to buy him a drink. Overall, he's good company to hang out with outside the bar. Yes, Min is really cute. He's still on the slender side but I can see he's attempt to bulk up a bit.

I woke up with Nam still fast asleep beside me. I slipped out of bed like a thief in the night, careful not to wake him, and made myself a coffee. I sat on the chair next to the bed, sipping slowly, just watching him. There’s something quietly captivating about seeing someone you were tangled up with the night before sleeping so peacefully—like a living postcard from the night that was. A few minutes later, Nam stirred, opened his eyes, smiled lazily, and beckoned me to come back in. I didn’t need a second invitation. I climbed back into bed, and we melted into each other for a while, just holding, letting the warmth linger. When he finally sat up, I asked what he wanted for breakfast. He declined at first—just coffee, he said. But then his eyes caught the stash of bread on the counter. He pointed and asked if he could have some. Of course. We munched quietly, talked a bit more, and somewhere between the last slice and the last sip, things took a familiar turn again. This time, more than cuddling—slow, lazy touches evolving into something deeper. We exchanged Line before he left. He said I should invite him if I want to “play water” during Songkran. The way he said it, with that little grin, made it sound like the invite might involve more than just water. That afternoon, I wandered over to Arena for a little extracurricular activity. I arrived too early—the lineup looked disappointing in terms of quality and quantity . I was told to come back in an hour, which I did. On round two, the energy picked up. I picked a guy named Tom and we headed to the room. As soon as we got in, he told me to shower first because he needed to get something. He must have sensed my disappointment as he quickly backpedaled with a smile and offered to join me in the shower instead. Much better. Nothing new to report on the Arena front. It’s as solid and predictable as ever—my dependable go-to when I want something quick and uncomplicated. The prices are reasonable, the quality decent, and the location perfect if you’re staying around Silom. Saphan Khwai still wins on variety, but I’ll take Arena’s reliability any day. Afterwards, I made a quick trip to Central Rama 3 to pick up some groceries and supplies, then headed back to the hotel. The rest of the afternoon slipped by without much fuss—just lounging, resting, letting the day exhale. As night rolled in, I had zero plans. I found myself drifting toward Dreamboys, where a tout pulled me in with the usual promise. Same old vibe inside—pulsing music, glowing lights, and some familiar faces back in rotation. Looks like their “Thai-only” phase is over. A few boys I knew from Goodboy who now moved back to Dreamboys came over to say hi, but the mood just wasn’t landing for me. I left in under thirty minutes. I walked back toward Goodboys. Tee and Emma were outside, so I stopped to chat. Tee looked worn out—still clearly recovering. I felt a pang of concern. Inside, the energy was low-key, and Tee led me to my usual spot with my usual Diet Coke. Emma came over and, in classic Emma fashion, immediately asked how things went with Nam. I glanced across the room and spotted Nam already seated with a customer—next to number 42, who I had been eyeing for the night. So much for that plan. Nam walked over to give me a hug and say hi. He said he wasn’t sure if his customer would off him. I nodded, but my eyes had already moved elsewhere. That’s when I saw Min. T’s brother. Cute, sweet, and always a little too shy for me. I’ve seen him many times before, invited him to sit when his brother was around, but never offed him. I used to think pairing two introverts was a bad idea—we’d just end up sitting in silence, awkwardly sipping our drinks. But tonight, Min looked different. More relaxed. Chatty. Even flirtatious. Laughing with other boys, making jokes, clearly more comfortable in his own skin. Something had shifted, and suddenly I couldn’t take my eyes off him. We caught each other’s gaze, and he smiled. I motioned for him to come over. He greeted me with a wai and a hug. “Welcome back,” he said. I asked if he remembered me. He laughed. “You’re brother’s friend.” Not wrong. A moment later, T joined us too—he had just come back from an early off. He plopped down next to us and immediately started joking about making more money tonight. Min, meanwhile, was doing the most. Playfully moving my hands over places usually reserved for later. Flirting without holding back. At one point, he loudly claimed he’s bigger than his brother. T laughed and tossed it back: “He’s offed me before—he can be the judge.” I wanted to crawl under the table. What was this? A family feud with cock measuring as the main event? I don't want to be part of this sibling rivalry! Min left to change into his street clothes while T shifted gears, pretending to be hurt I didn’t tell him I was in town. We made plans to meet the next day for some Songkran fun in Silom. Then Mai—my long-time crush—came down from the Big Cock Show to collect tips. Naturally, I was ready with my wallet. Outside, Min and I waited for our Grab. My phone rang—it was the driver, and I panicked. Min calmly took the phone, answered in Thai, and handled everything like a pro. Turns out he used to sell sugarcane juice on the street and picked up the language that way. Somehow, that made him even hotter. Back at the hotel, we chatted a bit more and eventually undressed without saying much, both of us smiling like we already knew where the night was heading. We took a shower together started with lingering touches turning into kisses. In bed, he was nothing like the shy boy I remembered. He was playful, confident, a little cheeky even teasing me with his mouth, whispering things I didn’t expect from someone who used to barely make eye contact. He took his time, and so did I. It was tender, but not timid. He kissed like he meant it, moved with purpose, responded to every touch with a soft sigh or a smile. When he straddled me, looking down with that mix of sweetness and mischief, I knew I had completely misread him before. Afterwards, we lay there, still skin against skin, the room quiet except for our breathing. He rested his head on my chest, and I just stared at the ceiling, grinning like a fool. I had no idea this was what I’d end up with tonight—but damn, I’m glad I did.

Decided to ease into the day and take it slow—no adventures below the belt, at least while the sun’s up. Figured I owed it to my upper and lower back, which has been quietly screaming since that long-haul economy flight. I’d been bouncing around Bangkok without a proper massage, which in hindsight felt like a form of self-neglect. Found a massage shop not far from the hotel. Nothing shady, just a legit setup with calming music and an actual menu where “oil massage” meant oil massage, not a coded invitation. Signed up for a two-hour oil session with a body scrub thrown in for good measure. The masseuse, bless her, had this perfect balance of grace and power. Those long, slow strokes that coax your muscles into submission, plus the occasional elbow that found every buried knot I didn’t know I had. I came dangerously close to nodding off more than once. When it was over, I floated out of there feeling like I’d been steamed, basted, and reset. My skin was glowing, my jetlag had vanished, and for once my shoulders weren’t attempting to fuse with my ears. Back at the hotel, I just... lounged. Let that post-massage blisd linger. Ignored the growing pile of Line messages from massage shops with tempting offers. But I told myself to chill. I didn’t come all the way to Bangkok just to rush from one boy to another like a horny hummingbird (maybe I do but not on a daily basis? Lol). Sometimes you’ve got to just soak in the stillness. Once evening rolled around, I rallied and headed out to meet @Raposa at Have a Zeed in Silom Complex. First time linking up with a fellow forum member, so I was excited and curious. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but Raposa turned out to be a great guy! easy-going, quick with a joke, and a solid conversationalist. We hit it off immediately, chatting about everything from the quirks of the Bangkok scene to our favorite travel spots. He wasn’t just a fellow forum member------he was someone you’d actually want to hang out with. A perfect balance of laid-back and insightful, which made for an enjoyable dinner and even better company as we swapped stories about past trips, mishaps, and of course, some bar gossip. After dinner, we moved to the bar beneath Hotmale since it's too early to head inside, but the street-side seating is perfect for people-watching. The boys started rolling in, tight tees clinging in all the right places, sneakers hitting the cracked pavement of Patpong with that slow, deliberate swagger. No pretense, just streetwise charm and easy sex appeal, the kind that fits right in with the buzz of motorbikes, neon glare, and the persistent shriek from hustlers trying to reel in a passing tourist. It wasn’t polished. it was raw, alive, and sexy in that unmistakably Bangkok way. Eventually, we wandered over to Dragon and Koi. Chatted with Pi and one of his mates while the shows cycled through their dance routines. Somewhere in between drinks, I got a Line message from James (last night’s boy) saying he’d seen me with a friend and wondered if I wanted company again tonight. I laughed. Sweet guy, but I wasn’t looking to run it back just yet. Variety is kind of the point, isn’t it? We made our way to Good Boy after that. And there he was—---Mai—---sitting right by the door eating dinner like a scene straight out of my dreams. He hadn’t been around during my last visit, so seeing him now was a very unexpected treat. He looked up as we approached, gave a casual smile, and I swear I felt my face flush. It was ridiculous, like I was in some adolescent romcom. There’s just something about him. his energy, that effortless charm that hits me square in the chest. Total schoolboy crush territory, and completely off-limits. The place was packed, and we ended up with one of those horribly positioned tables where you need to rotate your neck like a barn owl to see the stage. I only bothered with the contortions when Mai came out during the Big Cock show. Couldn’t not watch. When he came down after to collect tips, I made sure our table got his attention. Of course I tipped. How could I not? Once my Mai moment was ticked off for the night, it was time to turn my attention elsewhere. Raposa had already locked in his choice and was deep in conversation. Looked like they were either negotiating an off or the merits of neo liberal fiscal policy. I spotted a guy with a warm smile and a relaxed vibe, waved him over mostly to avoid looking like Raposa’s lonely wingman. He introduced himself as Nam, from Vietnam. This trip’s theme,as I will later realise was unintentionally, going to be “Boys from Vietnam and Myanmar,” and I’m not mad about it. Nam didn’t waste any time. He slid in close, his hand casually resting on mine, leaning in to whisper something soft in my ear. A kiss on my neck, a slow, teasing move that made it clear what he was after placing my hands strategically to make his case compelling. There was no talk of long time, just a mutual understanding that tonight was about keeping it simple and easy. After the whirlwind of last night, a quick and uncomplicated encounter seemed more than appealing. Raposa wrapped up his deal around the same time. We paid our off fees, shook hands like soldiers in the trenches, then went our separate ways. Each with a boy on our arm and a story to tell for next time.

Same experience here. Also, what I observed was that the notices posted in these properties made it sound like it will be us the guests who will be prosecuted/penalised if things go pear shaped.

I'm a bit challenged when it comes to directions as well. Both Freshboys and Hotmale have their guys wearing white shorts. If you happen to see a shower setup on stage, then you probably went to Freshboys. You also mentioned a packed crowd so my spider sense is again pointing towards Freshboys!

Thanks. Hardly a professional writer. But I recently learned to feed my ramblings and writings to a proofreading app before uploading. I re-read my previous trip reports and I was horrified with the spelling and grammatical errors. I can imagine you guys popping a couple of Tylenol after reading through my reports. 🤣 😂

Thanks - and at the end of the day, we all want Atlas to succeed - and I'm looking forward to visit again for sure.

Fully agree with you on this. I find meal service to be odd as well. I remember them serving the dinner roll separately and way after everyone finished their meal (happened on two separate flights). And I was surprised and so confused finding a large pouch of vegetable like the ones below with my airline meal.

Stepping into Atlas felt like walking into a new restaurant that used to be your favorite hole-in-the-wall—you’re hopeful, cautiously excited, and also silently bracing for disappointment. This was my first time visiting, and I had questions. So many questions. What did they do to the space? Was that famously awful pillar finally gone? Would this new incarnation finally live up to the slow-burning hype I’d been feeding for the past few months? At first glance, the place felt vaguely familiar. Despite the change in name and a few cosmetic tweaks—mostly in the form of shirtless, oil-slicked musclemen on the walls—it was still recognizably the old Sol / Dreamboys Bar. The core layout hadn’t shifted much, and I couldn’t decide if that was laziness or just holding onto a blueprint that never quite worked. But fine. I wasn’t there to review their feng shui. I was chasing that elusive Tawan-style magic, hoping to feel that spark that made you grin like an idiot after a couple of overpriced drinks. But then came the first red flag. Or maybe beige flag, since it was more sad than alarming. The place was almost empty. Including myself, there were exactly three customers. One table was occupied by a group of three elderly men, clearly regulars judging by how comfortable they looked. One of them, the oldest, needed help from his companions every time he got up or sat down, and once, be assisted to get him to the toilet. But honestly, I found it touching. If I’m still around and still going out for this kind of whorish fun when I’m his age, I hope I have a pair of devoted partners-in-crime like these two. He wasn’t just getting old,he was doing it in style. The show took its sweet time, only kicking off after eleven like it was waiting for a more enthusiastic crowd that never came. And when it did start, it sort of... flopped in. The guys on stage looked like they were counting down the minutes until they could go home. Zero cheekiness, zero spark. Even the drag performers, usually the reliable saviors of any limp show, were barely going through the motions. At one point, a performer got bent over while another squirted beer from behind him in what I assume was an attempt at humor or eroticism, though it missed both marks and landed somewhere between confusing and mildly unhygienic. But the real gut punch? The lack of connection. Most of the guys there were from Tawan, or at least previously affiliated, but the vibe was nowhere near what Tawan was known for. That casual charm, the way the boys would stroll up, flash a grin, chat you up with zero pressure—it just wasn’t there. Instead, they clustered together in their own little bubble, chattering and giggling while customers sat like forgotten ornaments. And because the space was bigger, that feeling of isolation echoed harder. It was like watching a party from behind soundproof glass. You could see the movement, but none of it reached you. Now to be fair, the new location has promise. It sits in an alley that’s already home to similar venues, meaning curious foot traffic and wandering souls are almost guaranteed. But potential only goes so far when the product still feels like it’s in beta testing. Right now, it reminds me too much of The One bar—empty, awkward, and hoping you’ll stay long enough to convince yourself you’re having a good time. Eventually, out of sheer boredom and the creeping dread that I might actually fall asleep at the bar, I made eye contact with one of the performers. I gave him the look. You know the one. The universal gesture of “save me from this dead air.” He picked up on it immediately and walked over, all smiles. His name was James, and before I could say much of anything, he handed me a business card like we were about to discuss stock options or schedule a team-building workshop. I found it unintentionally charming. James, it turned out, also worked at Prince Spa. And without missing a beat, he launched into his pitch. He told me he could take care of me that night, said it three different ways, and made it clear that this was a limited-time offer. I eventually gave in. Not because I was sold on the sales pitch, but because he was the only one in the whole building who seemed remotely interested in interacting with me. Back at the hotel, we ordered food through Grab. And this is when I discovered that James wasn’t just talkative—he was relentlessly chatty. Every few minutes, he would pause to thank me for calling him over, then launch into a variation of how he just knew I was a kind person with a good heart. I wasn’t sure if this was part of his client engagement strategy or a deeply awkward personality quirk, but whatever it was, it had me smiling politely while internally trying to distract myself. The silver lining, though, was the massage. He really put in the work, clearly trying to make the whole experience as enjoyable as possible. He was attentive, warm, and cheeky in all the right ways. The extras? Also lovely. The only downside was that even after the deed was done, he couldn’t stop talking. I think I fell asleep somewhere between his third story about his coworker and a detailed breakdown of his favorite noodle dish. In the morning, we had a quiet breakfast together. Or at least, I tried to keep it quiet—James was still on his one-man monologue tour. Before heading out, he mentioned Songkran, saying he wanted to play water with me and insisted I call him. I believe he meant well. He’s genuinely nice, and I don’t think there was any game in his words. But there’s only so much constant talking I can take before my brain starts buffering. I didn’t promise anything. Just gave him a vague smile and said we’ll see. We hugged it out, and I watched him disappear down the hallway. Then I went back to my bed, stretched out, and soaked in the beautiful silence of a Bangkok morning. After the underwhelming night and James’ constant verbal fireworks, the stillness felt sacred. Sometimes, the best thing a city can give you is the space to breathe again.

I like runny egg yolks but I agree the crispy edges are good too!