AsiaLIFE

After winning the Phnom Penh Inside Out award, a lot of people asked me what’s the secret of my success. “Well, I’m a true publican,” I normally respond with a wink. “And you know what that means?” I add with a slight pause. “The PUBLIC CAN do whatever they f***ing want.” Always brings a smile, does that one, especially after a few JB cokes. Well at least they could in the good old days. That was back in ’99 when I opened my first bar – Happy Happy. Not that I won too many awards for the best of anything then. But in those days anything meant everything. The girls would role enormous spliffs on their thighs while massaging customers at the bar – sometimes they’d roll the wrong joint, if you know what I mean. We even had a back room where regulars regularly crashed out after partaking of the Russian Market’s happy oregano pizza topping.

The only problem with Happy, Happy was its location. And that’s the first rule of business – location, location, location – as I’m constantly telling the latest Pattaya emigree who comes over here hoping to open a bar for the missus. “More chance of finding a matching pair of sleeves for that top you’re wearing than keeping ‘her indoors’, indoors and on the straight and narrow,” I tell them before showing them the door. I always keep a ‘no prostitutes, no drugs, no singlets and no French’ sign over the door to the bogs.  Being a London black cabbie in my previous existence, location is something I thought I knew a thing or two about. Not that it helped me much. Close to both Russian Market and Tuol Sleng, Happy Happy was ideally situated for backpackers. Unfortunately, it was even closer to the open sewer on Street 105, which smelt worse than a backpacker on an overnight bus through India. Most days we had a higher turnover in josticks than beer. I think I’d had a few too many tugs on the whacky backy when I agreed to take on the lease.

Not that it was really my decision – or my bar for that matter. All credit for my entrance into the Phnom Penh bar owning fraternity, rests with the first Mrs. T. Mind you, I should have known better. After all a knack for up-selling clients at Martini Bar is hardly the ideal CV for managing a smoking den. And it’s hardly like I didn’t know about her history. The first time our paths’ crossed, she was hustling a client on the pool table. The second time she was having a quickie in the washroom. Two months and a few drug-induced late night transactions later, she announced that A.T. Jnr. was on his way. Short of catching the first bus to Thailand, I didn’t really have much choice, especially when the future first Mrs. T moved her whole family in. Anyway my passport was getting its visa renewed at the time. At first, I thought Happy Happy would keep her on the straight and narrow. And so it did. Though, I guess the fact she was seven months up the duff by the time we finally opened put most potential punters off.

Looking back, those were probably the best days of my Phnom Penh life. Everything changed when A.T. Jnr. popped his tiny little head into this world. Not that I regret having him. Don’t take me wrong. That little sod is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I was so proud when he spoke his first words – not that I understood them. Never been too good at learning the local lingo. No it wasn’t little Alfie per se, but the changes it made in my relationship with the first Mrs. T that was the problem. First, trade picked up. Not that I was averse to taking a few extra knicker – just that it wasn’t the sort of customer we normally attracted. Our laissez faire attitude to the weed tended to attract a younger, more grungy type of clientele. The new customers were older, had a few more bob behind them, and were prepared to spend it. Then the staff began to change. The old dears we used to have were great sport and fantastic at rolling joints, but they weren’t exactly Premier League lookers. Though they might have been in their day, to be fair. The new girls were far softer on the eye and a lot more upfront in their customer service skills, if you take my drift. Not that I ever really twigged on, to tell the truth. Most days I didn’t know what planet I was on let alone what tricks my missus was getting up to.

One day, I came back a bit earlier and more stoned than usual from my tour of duty around town, to find the bar packed with customers, but no trace of Mrs T. Not that I registered this, I was far too wasted to take much in. But the bar went quiet just like that scene in American Werewolf. This freaked my already pretty freaked-out state even further. Realising that I had to lie down before I passed out, I lunged towards the back room. Sensing I knew much more than I actually did, a couple of the girls tipped Mrs T off and tried to block my path. Now, I’ve never hit a lady, but at the same time nobody stands in my way, if you get my drift. Whatever anyone else might say, I only brushed the girls away and that’s the God’s truth. Not that the police saw it that way.

I literally broke the door off its hinges as I burst into the back room. There I caught my better half with one of our more loyal customers in flagrante, so to speak. Fortunately for me, I was in no state to act the part of the wronged husband neither physically nor morally – after all she knew what I got up to at Martinis from her pals who still worked there. Instead, I did the only thing a man in my state could have done. I passed out on the mattress beside the adulterous couple.

Why mention this tale now? Well, it taught me one invaluable lesson about doing business in Phnom Penh. One that I remembered long after the former Mrs T ran off with a policeman from Dusseldorf on the back of his vespa, leaving me to look after little Alfie. The public can do whatever it wants, and the customer is never wrong. And down the Monarch, our customers can do whatever they want to, just so long as they settle their tab at the end of the day. Have a nice one, Alf.

Alf Taylor is the landlord of the Monarch, Street 104, Phnom Penh. If you want any advice on running a pub in Phnom Penh or cross-cultural relationships, you can contact him at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .