out in bangkok [special report]

I hope I'm not cursed

This is a paid post because it gets into raunchier material. Hope you’ll be hooked and make it to the end!

As is tradition, watch the Oscars with me at the best viewing party on the East Coast. See you Sunday, March 2 at Littlefield. Friends of NIGHT OUT can use the code THEACADEMY for 50% off here.

And I’m getting so excited for my hour of stand up, Powerpoints, and crowd work (flirting) at Union Hall on Saturday, March 22 at 7:30pm. Tickets here. And I’ll be in LA for a NEW DATE, Thursday, April 17 at 7:30pm. LA Tickets here.

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Bangkok is full of wonders: magical architecture, delicious food — the toasties at 7/11 are so good, you could cry…and I have…over a cream cheese and strawberry jam sammie — and the buzz that comes from knowing you might be struck by a motorbike when crossing the street and perish. You better believe there is a pep in your step when that step very well could be your last.

And Moo Deng lives here! I met that hungry little Republican, and she had nothing to say about Elon’s gesture at the Inauguration. Telling.

• Day of the Week: Saturday

• Neighborhood: Soi Cowboy, Bangkok [special report]

• The Crew: Lithuanian Influencer, sex columnist, and solo traveler, Agnė, her date, Newsmax (eek!) On-Air War Correspondent, Zach, and Agnė’s couple friends, based in Bangkok, Indre and Adam

• The Fit: White tank top and patterned maxi skirt from She*n. The vibe was white girl with a buddhist tattoo.

• Home by 2:30am

THE PRE-GAME: Longtail Canal Cruise

After being here for a month, I’m learning how to say “I go crazy for traveling" in most languages after seeing that prompt no fewer than 1,000 times on every horny traveler’s Hinge. My own Fuckboy Duolingo. Unusual skills: เอาเสื้อฮู้ดของฉันคืนหลังจากที่คุณยืมมา.

jennycestquoi

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On a day when I could venture a few hours away from my family, I went on a longtail canal cruise down Bangkok’s Chao Phraya River — water so polluted it rivals my beloved Gowanus Canal. Miss her.

I love group tour culture. I know being herded around with strangers while a guide screams out the years of things is not for everyone. Some of you don’t like to be sweaty or on a bus or to read. But my dad and my late grandpa love(d) to stop and read plaques and take in little historical facts. It’s my culture. I’m from a reading plaques family. It’s ok if you’re not.

My favorite tour guide was Mr. Boy who told my group tour of Ayutthaya that King Chulalongkorn the Great, who had 150 wives, was… his idol. Sorry, Mr. Boy, to handle that many wives, you’re gonna have to be Mr. Man.

The boat cruise on the Chao Phraya took us to a floating market. I generally like to zone out and keep to myself when solo on a group tour. I do some of my best yearning while being told the years of things. But I couldn’t help but notice that there was a cute couple (?) around my age, seated behind me on the boat.

When we made it to land, the guy, Zach, a short king with a very pretty face and boy band floppy hair, asked me where I was from. He’s from the States too, a journalist, and met his companion, Agnė, a modelesque Lithuanian writer/influencer when they matched on Hinge in Vietnam. They’re both solo traveling. She flew out to meet him here. Their third date will be a beach vacation on one of the islands the next day…

Wait. Some people in their early 30’s (?) travel all over the globe matching with short kings (?) and going on vacation dates (?) for months at a time (?)

Wait. Wait wait wait wait.

Why (?) do (?) I (?) have (?) a (?) day (?) job (??????????????)

Back on the boat, out of the corner of my eye, I’d notice Zach jumping out of his seat every time he spotted a drone. “PTSD,” he said a little too loudly.

Fuck it, I took the bait, “Do you work in a war zone?”

Jackpot, the exact question he was hoping for.

With a glint in his eye, he answered, “Yeah, I was stationed in Ukraine and Israel.”

“Wow.”

I think he was was waiting for a “you’re so brave.”

“Who do you write for?”

“Oh, I don’t write…I’m on camera.”

But, of course, I had clocked the hair.

Working for Newsmax…Red Flag, obviously. But regardless of the publication, reporting from war zones…massive Red Flag. It’s like being into motorcycles or adventure sports. Some guys would rather brush with death than go to therapy. It’s why an ex made me go waterfall jumping on a vacation. I got an ear infection. You know when your parents are like, if all your friends jumped off a cliff, would you? No…I’m not hooking up with my friends.

If this is the kind of guy I’m gonna match with abroad, I’d rather meet a guy with an email job back home. And, furthermore, it’s fucked that you still need to be hot to be on camera in a war zone… You’d think you could be average looking and report from Ukraine… but I guess if no one wants to fuck the journalist, no one will tune in :(

Naturally, I invited them to see my set at The Comedy Joint on Khao San, the huge, drunken late night tourist street, a few hours later.

THE SECOND PRE-GAME: The Sacred Relic of the Buddha Tooth

In the in between, I decided to stop by Sanam Luang Park because I had seen a TikTok, of course, that said they had a pop-up light show, and it was on the way to my set.

As I got closer, I was taken in by a throng of locals dressed all in white. As we waited in a long snaking line in the tented enclosure around the perimeter of the park, I asked the people around me if this was normal. No one responded — not as I eased closer and closer to the park, though a metal detector run by the military, not as I was taken out of the line to have my passport scanned by yet another military worker, not upon passing inspection, as I was handed a pamphlet and plastic lotus flower.

Was I intruding? I was the only white person in my vicinity, dressed in a brightly colored idiot-tourist-on-vacation maxi skirt. A “give me a mojito, I’m flirting with my hot masseuse” skirt — clearly inappropriate for whatever state ceremony or religious service I had stumbled upon.

But the government already had my passport. Whatever was happening was already happening. Would I die in the horror movie? Yes, obviously.

A Google translate of the pamphlet revealed that I was witnessing the special occasion of the Sacred Relic of the Buddha Tooth, on loan from China.

In their video, the TikTok influencer did not mention that the light show was SACRED.

I followed the crowd to bear witness to the tooth, sitting in a golden temple behind 6 feet of rope and stanchion and guarded by praying monks. I kept my hands in a thoughtful prayer position and my head respectfully bowed.

I had thought about getting a tattoo when I was in Thailand, as a memory of my time there. They have a beautiful practice called the Sak Yant, which are tattoos bestowed by monks via long stalks of bamboo as the needle for the stick and poke. The tattoos contain blessings. Outside of the city of Bangkok, if you were to go to a temple for a traditional one, a monk will choose the blessing that you need. Angelina Jolie has an entire back full.

Now, in 2025, they have Westernized parlors with freelance monks who will give you a tattoo of your choosing. I was drawn to a yant in particular, for success, luck, and attraction. I sent an email to schedule an appointment.

To request a blessing over email, like I would a haircut! This little life!

I let them know I was open to hearing if the monk had another suggestion for a blessing suitable for me. The owner responded “The yant chooses you.”

Yes. Immediately in.

In the sacred practice of Sak Yant, there are rules you must follow to maintain the blessing, and if you break the vow of the yant, it no longer blesses you, and in some thinking, even gives you bad luck.

1. Do Not Kill, 2. Do Not Steal, 3. Do Not Lie, 4. Do Not Desire Another Person’s Spouse or Cheat on Your Own

Love, love, love, no problem.

5. Do Not Get Intoxicated

Okay, more difficult, but maybe this will finally be the thing that stops me from blacking out ever again. And Reddit says, you can still drink in moderation. If Reddit says!

6. Do Not Speak Ill of Your Mother

Pause.

I emailed a follow up, “How seriously do we take the rules of the Sak Yant? I’m a stand up comedian, and I speak ill of my alcoholic mother on stage. I don’t want to be cursed!”

The owner replied, “Rules is very serious. If you don't feel like that you can follow, I am suggest not to get it.”

I almost…cursed myself.

Now, here, accidentally finding myself in front of the Sacred Relic of Buddha’s Tooth, I would not make that mistake.

I said a small prayer when I left my lotus flower as an offering, “Thank you, Buddha, for letting me visit your gorgeous country and take part in your beautiful religion and culture. Please don’t be mad at me.”

I think if any religious leader would not keep a grudge, it is the Buddha. But I’m not taking any chances.

The pop-up light show was really spectacular.

THE GAME: Soi Cowboy

Khao San is like Times Square, but drunker with more opportunities to get a tattoo (unblessed) that you’ll regret forever. Women walk around selling handmade bracelets that say atrocious phrases beyond imagination: “Spicy Dick Salad,” “I <3 Little Jew C*nt,” “Dr. Jizz.” I bought 100.

Despite being unbelievably crowded and loud, I ran into Agnė and Zach on the street. We stopped to eat Pad Thai, and I told them that I had witnessed the Sacred Relic of Buddha’s Tooth, and Zach told us about how his job is a lot like the A24 Movie Civil War except everyone would be wearing a helmet.

Agnė invited her friends, a married couple based in Bangkok, Indre and Adam, to the show. Adam recently became paralyzed and is wheelchair bound. Indre would follow him around carrying his very heavy extra equipment. That’s true love.

All of the other comics on the line-up (don’t worry, all men obviously) carried Adam up the stairs, as the venue, like most things in Bangkok, is not accessible. That’s true dedication to selling one more ticket.

Following an absolutely killer set (you don’t know!), we decided to solidify our brand new friendship by going to a ping pong show. What is that? Well, it is a practice where women will put ping pong balls…