A Guide on How to Party in Phuket and Earn Money at It

Hell of a night — Picture of Author taken from a Youtube Video

You might not believe it, but I once made 3000 baht in one night just by dancing in the rain on Bangla Road in Patong. Without Shoes and blood dripping down my foot.

I stumbled into the Street, with just a few Baht in my pocket, ready to dance the night away. I didn’t want to risk getting pickpocketed, so I only brought enough for a wine cooler. I was already quite tipsy, but without some liquid courage, my dancing would likely result in a slipped disc.

The sky opened up and soaked me to the bone, but that wasn’t going to stop this party machine. I busted out my slickest moves right there on the slippery street. Within minutes — snap! There goes the shoe, and ouch! I slipped and sliced open my foot.My last remaining Baht were invested in some disinfectant and bandaids. Broke but undeterred, I kept on dancing.

Suddenly, people started calling out to me from the open-air clubs lining the street, begging me to dance for them. One particularly enthusiastic fellow was so insistent that he shoved a camera in my face, demanding I dance under a gushing rain gutter for his amusement. I told him I only perform for cash. He got severely aggressive, but his buddy slipped me 2000 Baht and a whiskey and cola. For that kind of dough, I was more than happy to bust a move in the pouring waterfall.

Soon I had flower garlands tossed around my neck and bills stuffed in my pockets from cheering tourists who wanted to dance with the crazy rain dancer.

Normally, motorbikes are banned from cruising Bangla Road at night, but occasionally a rogue one slips through. I heard a commotion behind me and turned to see a scrawny motorbike driver being dragged off his ride by an angry mob after striking a young woman.

The police swiftly arrived, kicked the offending driver a few times, and attempted to stuff him into their pickup truck. Despite his small stature, the two officers struggled mightily. I offered my assistance but was declined. After watching them fail once more, I took matters into my own hands. I strode over, plucked the driver up with one hand, and unceremoniously crammed him into the police vehicle. Startled, he punched me in the face once inside. I pinned him down and rained blows upon him until the cops peeled me off, instructing me to keep my distance. They didn’t seem too perturbed by my actions, though.

As I chatted with some bystanders about the incident, I heard more shouting. I whipped around to see the same two officers pointing their guns at a pair of drunk Indian men trying to leave the scene. I decided it was time to call it a night and head back to my hotel, 3000 Baht richer than when I had arrived.

You’d think the authorities would crack down on the stalls hawking knives and brass knuckles that line Patong’s main party strip, especially given the potent cocktail of booze and simmering aggression. But alas, common sense is in short supply.

Are you ready to party? — Picture by the Author in Patong

The next day, as I stood by the roadside chatting on the phone with Denis Gorbunov, two buses packed with Indian tourists pulled up beside me at a red light. The passengers pointed at me, exclaiming, “There’s the guy from last night!” and “Hey, come here, I want to take a selfie!” Mortified by the attention, I ducked into the nearest BigC to get some hair color.*

So, what wisdom did I glean from this wild night? Well, sometimes you just have to dance like no one’s watching. Even if everyone is watching. And filming. And tossing you money. Just make sure to bring extra shoes and a first aid kit. Oh, and maybe don’t assault anyone in front of the police, not everytime they will be happy about it. Probably best to leave the vigilante justice to the professionals (me).

But hey, at least I can say I’ve truly experienced the madness and mayhem of Bangla Road in all its rain-soaked, whiskey-fueled glory.

*It works wonders, trust me.

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