The Jubilee is a new addition to the Marriott brand so prices are cheap and it’s almost the end of the year, so that finds me in the lounge awaiting Mrs Sachi’s arrival.
It’s in Hui Kwang, not on the river or glamorous Sukhumvit Road. It’s an older building and I arrived early for a change, on foot rather than via terrifying moto-taxi ride. The lobby has a nice Christmas tree, this being the season.
If you’re a fan of my other blog you’ll recognise those frescoes on the ceiling. I reckon this is the Versailles of the Orient.
Looks like I’m not the only one lurking around the lobby waiting for their partner. “Yeah, I arrived about 40 minutes ago. How close are you?”
I’m not Platinum but Sachie is, so after waiting for said 40 minutes or so I bellied up to reception and asked if I can wait in the lounge. Good news is that the service is excellent and after a quick call to clear (“Yes, he’s a fat fucker but I don’t see that we have a choice,”) me with the manager, I ascended.
Not a big lounge, but an efficient one. They already have the booze out and were setting up food for the 5:30pm starting gun.
There’s your carbs. Enough to put down a good bed of coals for the night ahead.
Plenty of options for the sweet-tooth too. Not a bad buffet and no obvious cheap or cost-cutting items, but no smoked salmon or brie either.
Mrs Sachi arrived and was immediately offered sparkling wine, even though it was only 5:20. That’s Brushtail, an Australia sparkling which, if not very complex or interesting, is wonderfully dry and drinkable. We often get it at home as it’s under Bt400 a bottle on special. Great value.
But happy hour only lasts two hours (?) so it’s time to work down the cocktail menu.
It’s a tough job keeping my audience satisfied but I’m proud to say that I managed at least one of each of these cocktails. The margarita is pretty good, not too sweet.
I’ve had a bunch of kamikazes at these kind of places and can attest that the ones here are worth ordering two of.
The good news is that this lounge has a chose of two reds. I’m baffled why more places don’t do this. Just get two that cost the same and let people make up their minds. Sure, people may like one more than the other but that’s a good thing to know. It costs nothing to present a choice.
The Californian ‘gourmet red’ is a blend and fairly inoffensive. Not much nose. It’s fine.
Bandicoot Estate also provides the sparkling but their red, another blend, has a rough nose. It’s a sunny tasting wine but fairly acid. I wouldn’t buy this.
As you can see, I’m outpacing Sachie by a wide margin but the staff are fantastic… enablers. Even at last-call they’re generous with the beer, the wine and the whiskey, which found us staying a bit late.
For most of the night there was a Farang lady alone at the next table pounding diet cokes, but I think she got enthused by Mrs Sachi’s and my poor example and turned to drink at the end. She introduced herself by way of taking our portrait.
We naturally got talking and our neighbour lives in the Middle East. She’s in town getting her tits and tummy done. We were getting along famously and there was plenty of booze left over when they kicked us out of the lounge so we took our whiskeys down to the lobby bar.
Hotel bars are famously overpriced so we decided to venture out as soon as Mrs Sachie came back from the loo. Finally alone, our lounge friend moved closer and started rubbing her new tits on my arm. That’s a pretty indiscreet come-on but I’m used to it these days. You see, I have this effect on a lot of ladies when they meet me for the first time. They just can’t help themselves.
Actually, I was deer-in-the-headlights terrified. Luckily Sachie came back to rescue me and we all went across the road to some massive Thai gin-palace.
They wouldn’t let us on the rooftop but there’s a downstairs bar where I got us a longneck of Leo and some plastic cups. Classy place.
Out new friend piped up “I don’t drink beer, I want bourbon,”
“Well, the bar’s over there love,” I said and helpfully pointed the way. That didn’t go down well and she took off to the rooftop with some Thai ladies in something of a huff.
“She asked if I like to eat pussy!” was not what I was expecting Mrs Sachi to say. I pondered a moment and asked if she replied by taking a big pull from her cigarette, looking up to the ceiling while exhaling and saying “Well, not that much, but my husband does,”
Of course nothing like this happened, Sachi was as deer-in-the-headlights as me. We finished our beers and fucked off back to the hotel.
The idea of a threesome with a not entirely unattractive American lady from the lounge may sound erotic but you have to picture it. There’s me, over 50, gut wobbling back and forth as I do her from behind, panting in a huge puddle of my own sweat. Boggles the mind.
The hotel room doesn’t have an interior window to the bathroom, this being an old-fashioned, civilised hotel, but the wall next to the bed, my side, is mirrored. Again, sounds sexy, but I remember a day back in my mid 20s when I was banging my girlfriend of the time and caught a glance of us in the mirror. She looked great, I looked like shit. I don’t want to see fat me in the nude and I probably don’t want to see our new friend’s surgical dressings falling off so the FFM thing stays on the bucket list for now.
Speaking of the room, we’re in 1811. Year of the Luddite revolt.
But I wish it was this one as it has a better soundtrack.
Floor to ceiling mirrors allow for some arresting photography. I think this one of Mrs Sachie is sweet.
But let’s be serious, this is the one you wanted to see.
Anyhow, it was a nice stay. Breakfast was pretty good but not overly-fancy. The place was packed with Indian and Chinese people, mostly dudes, so I suspect that they get a fair bit of corporate booking. Not so many kids about.
So would we stay at the Jubilee again? Heck yes, top-notch service, fancy hooch and weird adventures are firmly in my wheel-house and, after her scars have healed, we may get another crack at the horny American lady when we visit Bahrain in April.