Threesomes, serial killers and sticky notes

Time Out

16-07-2025

You know that feeling when you walk into a place and it just clicks? For a Bangkok nightlife veteran like me, that usually means besties, a whiskey-soda in hand and live music setting the perfect beat. But then I found Allso Bar, and everything I thought I knew about a good night out got completely flipped on its head. This cosy corner isn't my usual watering hole. It's a place where conversation becomes a kind of safe space for strangers.
What if I told you there's an event where you can spill your white, grey or even pitch-black secrets without judgement (okay, maybe just a little laughter) and listen as others do the same? That was my first experience of The Dark Secrets of Bangkok – a night where strangers anonymously share the kind of confessions that make you question what really goes on behind the eyes of the person next to you. The kind you imagine while passing someone on the street or dancing with a stranger you've just met. I stumbled across it with no idea what to expect – but hearing other people's secrets was more than enough to ignite my curiosity.
And these anonymous secrets? They're wild. Some warm your heart. Others knock the wind out of you. But that's the point. Everyone's got something buried deep and for once, we just sit back, listen and let it be.
What goes down at the event
Upon arriving at a dimly lit, retro-style bar, I was seated with strangers. After a few drinks, the initial awkwardness transformed into a genuine exchange of stories. I realized it was the perfect kind of place to share secrets and glimpse into other people's lives.
A hush fell over the room as everyone settled in. A host, Bog, appeared alongside Vik, an American writer and co-conspirator to explain the evening's thrilling concept. Each guest would be given a sticky note and a pen, then head upstairs alone to a small private room and write down a secret. It could be one sentence, two pages, a joke, a heartbreak, anything. Some people took ages. Others jotted something down with the same speed you'd use to scribble a grocery list. The energy in the room turned electric with curiosity.
Once all the sticky notes were posted on the wall like confessions pinned to a church board, the real thrill began. Bog and Vik gathered everyone and began reading the secrets out loud, one by one.
Some were light and cheeky, getting instant laughs:
'My mom doesn't know I drink and have sex, which happen to be the two things I'm best at.'
'I pretend to be Jewish just to attend Saturday service and eat the chicken soup.'
Half the room laughed, the other half looked confused, like they couldn't decide if it was amusing or unhinged.
'When I was 17, I smoked opium and had a threesome while someone read poetry.'
'
Some confessions had the kind of shock factor that made the room go completely still:
'I broke up with my ex and I killed her cat.'
'I once wandered into the abandoned factory near my house and found a dead body.'
'I met three serial killers, two are in prison and one killed himself.'
Then there were the deeply personal ones, the kind that hit a little too close to home:
'I never find love. I'm afraid I'm the problem. I keep people at arm's length when they try to come close.'
And of course, some were just pure Bangkok chaos:
'I fucked two people in one day and went on a date with a third.'
'I'm only here to spread COVID.'
'I came to Bangkok past my prime and somehow, this city gives me a new life.'
You could feel the crowd ride every wave of emotion – laughing, wincing, gasping or falling into silence. No one knew whose secret was whose and that was the beauty of it. In this moment, everyone was just a witness to something ridiculous and real. Somehow, that made it feel safe.
Upon arriving at a dimly lit, retro-style bar, I was seated with strangers. After a few drinks, the initial awkwardness transformed into a genuine exchange of stories. I realized it was the perfect kind of place to share secrets and glimpse into other people's lives.
A hush fell over the room as everyone settled in. A host, Bog, appeared alongside Vik, an American writer and co-conspirator to explain the evening's thrilling concept. Each guest would be given a sticky note and a pen, then head upstairs alone to a small private room and write down a secret. It could be one sentence, two pages, a joke, a heartbreak, anything. Some people took ages. Others jotted something down with the same speed you'd use to scribble a grocery list. The energy in the room turned electric with curiosity.
Once all the sticky notes were posted on the wall like confessions pinned to a church board, the real thrill began. Bog and Vik gathered everyone and began reading the secrets out loud, one by one.
Some were light and cheeky, getting instant laughs:
'My mom doesn't know I drink and have sex, which happen to be the two things I'm best at.'
'I pretend to be Jewish just to attend Saturday service and eat the chicken soup.'
Half the room laughed, the other half looked confused, like they couldn't decide if it was amusing or unhinged.
'When I was 17, I smoked opium and had a threesome while someone read poetry.'
'
Some confessions had the kind of shock factor that made the room go completely still:
'I broke up with my ex and I killed her cat.'
'I once wandered into the abandoned factory near my house and found a dead body.'
'I met three serial killers, two are in prison and one killed himself.'
Then there were the deeply personal ones, the kind that hit a little too close to home:
'I never find love. I'm afraid I'm the problem. I keep people at arm's length when they try to come close.'
And of course, some were just pure Bangkok chaos:
'I fucked two people in one day and went on a date with a third.'
'I'm only here to spread COVID.'
'I came to Bangkok past my prime and somehow, this city gives me a new life.'
You could feel the crowd ride every wave of emotion – laughing, wincing, gasping or falling into silence. No one knew whose secret was whose and that was the beauty of it. In this moment, everyone was just a witness to something ridiculous and real. Somehow, that made it feel safe.
Where do we go from here?
When all the secrets are revealed, there's a charged moment – everyone scanning the room, locking eyes, trying to match confessions to faces. The guessing game begins, It was part hilarious and haunting. You see someone smirk and suddenly wonder if they were the one who wrote that brutally honest line. Some hang out 'til the last drop of their cocktail. I ended up deep in conversation with a few people and just like that, I learned more about this city than any guidebook could offer – a woman who once got dumped in a nightclub but met her future partner before last call, a filmmaker obsessed with his latest bizarre documentary idea and traveller spending their last night in town uncovering the raw truths of complete strangers. The event pulls in people from all backgrounds and puts them in the same room, not to perform but to connect. It felt voyeuristic perhaps deeply human. Like group therapy with better lighting and cheaper drinks.
What makes the Big Mango what it is isn't the concrete – it's the people. Not just the locals shaping the city day by day, but the travellers passing through, leaving behind fragments of themselves and picking up new ones. Their stories, secrets and confessions paint the capital in more than one shade at once. That's what Allso Bar taps into. It's the brainchild of Roe Roe Laophermsook, who wanted to flip the script on what nightlife can be. It's not exclusive – it's inclusive. A space where anyone – the suit, the student, the artist, the expat, the wanderer – can sit at the same table and feel like they belong.
And in many ways, Allso Bar is Roe himself. 'I haven't had social media since 2008,' he admits. 'That's why I opened the bar to create something real. But the irony is, now I have to be on it more than ever.' That same tension between digital fatigue and real-world connection pulses through everything the bar does. People are craving something beyond the scroll, a reason to look up from their phones and into someone's eyes. And that energy is exactly what makes The Dark Secrets of Bangkok possible.
The response to the first edition was positive. 'People reached out to say how much they enjoyed the night and that they're already planning to bring friends to the next one,' Roe shares. 'They also really loved the atmosphere of the bar itself.' So yes, a second edition is set for late August. And that energy is exactly what makes The Dark Secrets of Bangkok possible. With Bog as host and Vik bringing a storyteller's edge, the concept is simple: What happens when you give people a space to be honest with zero consequences? The result is a night that's unpredictable and unexpectedly connective.