When this Admiral pointed at his target, at least he knew it wasn’t packing unexpected cargo.
Figured I’d throw out a funny (And true!) story for the weekend.
Here goes…
WARNING: If you’re easily offended, clutch your pearls now and run for the hills, because this ain’t your grandma’s bedtime story. This is raw, real, and straight out of a SEAL Team bar crawl in the neon-lit gutters of Pattaya, Thailand.
There’s something about Thailand‘s nightlife that strips a man of his common sense faster than a Vegas stripper with a credit card swiper. Maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s the cheap booze, or maybe it’s the fact that your reptilian brain takes over the second a smiling beauty with legs for days flashes a wink in your direction. Either way, it’s where legends are born, and this one’s for the books.
The Medic and the Mirage
We’ll call him “Doc.” He was our team medic, the guy who’s supposed to patch us up when things go sideways. But no amount of combat training prepared him for the battlefield of Pattaya’s infamous Walking Street. After a dozen shots of something flammable and enough Chang beers to knock out a rhino, Doc found himself chatting up what he thought was the most stunning woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Silk dress, high heels, legs like a thoroughbred racehorse.
“You want to come back room?” she purred, batting lashes that could sweep a floor.
Doc, never one to turn down a mission, followed. But here’s where the plot thickens. As they got to the backroom, things heated up, and she kept trying to steer things towards the back entrance when Doc’s spidey senses turned on. He started feeling around and then to his shock, the lovely lady turned, smiled, and with a flick of the wrist that David Copperfield would envy—whipped out a surprise package that sent Doc scrambling like a cat on ice.
The man came back to the bar table pale as a ghost, sweating more than a sinner in church, more excited than a Catholic priest at a kids’ summer camp sleepover. He started downing Thai whiskey like it was a combat stimulant.
Figured I’d throw out a funny (And true!) story for the weekend.
Here goes…
WARNING: If you’re easily offended, clutch your pearls now and run for the hills, because this ain’t your grandma’s bedtime story. This is raw, real, and straight out of a SEAL Team bar crawl in the neon-lit gutters of Pattaya, Thailand.
There’s something about Thailand‘s nightlife that strips a man of his common sense faster than a Vegas stripper with a credit card swiper. Maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s the cheap booze, or maybe it’s the fact that your reptilian brain takes over the second a smiling beauty with legs for days flashes a wink in your direction. Either way, it’s where legends are born, and this one’s for the books.
The Medic and the Mirage
We’ll call him “Doc.” He was our team medic, the guy who’s supposed to patch us up when things go sideways. But no amount of combat training prepared him for the battlefield of Pattaya’s infamous Walking Street. After a dozen shots of something flammable and enough Chang beers to knock out a rhino, Doc found himself chatting up what he thought was the most stunning woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Silk dress, high heels, legs like a thoroughbred racehorse.
“You want to come back room?” she purred, batting lashes that could sweep a floor.
Doc, never one to turn down a mission, followed. But here’s where the plot thickens. As they got to the backroom, things heated up, and she kept trying to steer things towards the back entrance when Doc’s spidey senses turned on. He started feeling around and then to his shock, the lovely lady turned, smiled, and with a flick of the wrist that David Copperfield would envy—whipped out a surprise package that sent Doc scrambling like a cat on ice.
The man came back to the bar table pale as a ghost, sweating more than a sinner in church, more excited than a Catholic priest at a kids’ summer camp sleepover. He started downing Thai whiskey like it was a combat stimulant.
Enter the Rear Admiral
About an hour later, another SEAL—let’s call him “Tex”—comes storming back to the table where the guys were still pounding beers like a marathoner drinks water post race, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.
“Boys!” he brags, slapping the table, “You won’t believe it! Got one of these Thai beauties to let me put it in her rear!” He’s beaming, chest puffed up like a rooster at dawn.
Doc, still nursing PTSD from his earlier encounter, perks up. “Which one? Point her out.”
Tex points straight across the bar.
It’s her. HIM. The same lovely lass that had Doc contemplating the meaning of life just an hour before. Doc’s jaw hits the table, the rest of the team erupts in howls of laughter loud enough to wake Buddha himself.
“Hate to break it to you Tex but you’re a man F*cker.”
Tex looks around, blinking, sweating like a whore in church, and piecing together the horror show, and unwanted nickname he’d just signed up for.
The Aftermath
To this day, Tex is known as “Rear Admiral”—a title he earned in the most non-traditional way possible. And the rest of the guys in the SEAL Platoon? They never let him live it down. The moral of the story? In Thailand, always check the equipment before you commit to the mission.
If you ever hear a SEAL tell you he’s “seen it all,” remind him that nobody’s safe in Pattaya.
As someone who’s seen what happens when the truth is distorted, I know how unfair it feels when those who’ve sacrificed the most lose their voice. At SOFREP, our veteran journalists, who once fought for freedom, now fight to bring you unfiltered, real-world intel. But without your support, we risk losing this vital source of truth. By subscribing, you’re not just leveling the playing field—you’re standing with those who’ve already given so much, ensuring they continue to serve by delivering stories that matter. Every subscription means we can hire more veterans and keep their hard-earned knowledge in the fight. Don’t let their voices be silenced. Please consider subscribing now.
One team, one fight,
Brandon Webb former Navy SEAL, Bestselling Author and Editor-in-Chief
Barrett is the world leader in long-range, large-caliber, precision rifle design and manufacturing. Barrett products are used by civilians, sport shooters, law enforcement agencies, the United States military, and more than 75 State Department-approved countries around the world.
PO Box 1077 MURFREESBORO, Tennessee 37133 United States
Scrubba Wash Bag
Our ultra-portable washing machine makes your journey easier. This convenient, pocket-sized travel companion allows you to travel lighter while helping you save money, time and water.
Our roots in shooting sports started off back in 1996 with our founder and CEO, Josh Ungier. His love of airguns took hold of our company from day one and we became the first e-commerce retailer dedicated to airguns, optics, ammo, and accessories. Over the next 25 years, customers turned to us for our unmatched product selection, great advice, education, and continued support of the sport and airgun industry.
COMMENTS
There are
on this article.
You must become a subscriber or login to view or post comments on this article.