To B Or Not To B
After all the tales of woe I have read on this site, I finally have my own to report.
I have become involved with a Thai girl, a real superstar of the Bangkok nightlife scene. Right now I am in way over my head and sinking fast.
A brief history is required to unveil the situation.
I first started coming on holidays to Thailand about three years ago. I was your typical newbie. Awe-struck, gullible, eager to please. Easy meat for the bar girls and boy did they take advantage. After about 10 days of scams and hustles, I was becoming a bit disillusioned with the place. Thailand sure wasn't the romantic nirvana this naive little soul had been anticipating and I was beginning to wish I hadn't come at all. Then, as so many do, I met the girl who would, as Van the man says, rock my gypsy soul. I met B at a small cocktail bar in Bangkok. She wasn't merely exotic to me, she was a different universe. An existence I had never even imagined before. Stunning looking, witty, insightful and amazing fun, she just blew me away. Such was her polish that, on that first encounter, I wasn't even sure she was a bar girl. I will never forget the first time we did the deed. Every fibre of my being was jump started from its previous slumber. I was alive! Corny stuff , I know, but you get the picture. I spent the remainder of my holiday with her in a dreamscape.
After I got home, I experienced that 'little death' so eloquently described by one of your other contributors. I was hooked – both on Thailand and on B. We stayed in e-mail contact and I got back as soon as I could, which was six months later.
That trip was a mixed affair. As my knowledge of Thailand grew, so did my appreciation and love for the place. The food, the people, sights, sounds and smells. All are narcotic to me. All the while, B led me through this time of discovery. Patiently holding my hand as I stumbled like a child through this new culture. She was incredible. But there were tensions between us. She was possessive. Even a look at another woman, let alone a conversation would be enough to create a mood. No doubt fear that the walking ATM might take off was behind this. On the other hand I was subjected to her brutal honesty regarding her other farang boyfriends. I am not rich by any means and B knew that. But she mercilessly played every trick in the BG handbook for my bits and pieces. B is a buffalo storyteller of some sophistication. I soon realised there was no future between us. When I got home, I resolved that I would return to Thailand as often as I could but not for B. And that is what I did.
I have returned on a number of occasions since then and became what you might describe as your average to competent little sex tourist. I have done the tour – Nana, Cowboy, Thermae, Massage Parlours and Pattaya numerous times. I have developed the patter of the bargirls and know how to make them laugh and have a good time. I have 'dated' many of these girls and had great fun but always found the experience a bit hollow. The girls always bore poor comparison to someone who still haunted me. There in the back of my mind she would be. Stalking me like a predator, circling my psyche, strutting with the cock-sureness of the victor. On each trip I would finally succumb and find myself at her door. She would always drop whatever (or whoever) she was doing to stay with me. It would always be the best time of every trip and the worst. It would invariably end up in some squall. Usually over that weapon of mass distraction, the mobile phone. B would blatantly take calls from some other lovelorn farang and expect me to have no problem with it. It was always the one thing that would throw my knickers in a twist and I would end up storming off to commit an act of revenge fucking on someone else. We finally called it quits. I know this is all pretty standard pathetic fare, but stay with me, its going somewhere.
I returned for a holiday in March this year. I had not seen or heard from B for over six months and it didn't particularly bother me. I was in full on sex tourist mode. I was in a bar in Bangkok with my 'belle de jour' and I was spotted by a friend of B's who promptly got on the WMD to tell her. B arrived in minutes from I don't know where. There was no scene, no projectiles, just a furious glare and a fairly venomous rendition of the bird. She stormed out. I mention this incident because, while B knew I went with other girls, she had never seen it until that night. I though 'well and good' that should be the final nail in the coffin for us. I was wrong.
This incident sparked a whole new attitude in B towards me. She pursued me relentlessly. Phoning me, showing up at my regular hotel. I resisted for a while but, as before, the predator got its kill. I spent the rest of that holiday with her and things just seemed better than ever. She was so emotional and tactile.
When I got home, I was besieged with texts and phone calls at all hours to check if I was jou chou. I know it was the low season but this stuff was really ridiculous. Anyway I resolved to go back to Thailand in June. No time alone, no jou chu, just B.
It was perfect. The best trip I have ever had. We partied for a few days in Bangkok before heading to beautiful island and then on to her family home up country. She was intimate and loving and we grew closer than ever before.
Inevitably, the stakes were upped and she turned the discussion to her moving to my particular neck of farangland and marriage. I had been anticipating this and played along waiting for the usual ' send me money so I no work' routine. But it didn't come.
One day on the island, we stopped to get som tum from a vendor. The female vendor and B embarked on a conversation that visibly shocked B and there were nervous smiles and glances in my direction. We left abruptly. When I questioned her on the way back to the resort about the matter, she told me what had been said. I passed it off with a 'mai pen rai' at the time. There was some further edgy discussion with a friend of B's back at the resort but I didn't really take any of it seriously at the time. Later, we went to a beach party and had a great time. We were both in great form but B resisted any further discussion about the events of that day. That night, she made love to me as if it were the last time.
The next morning as we languished in bed, I raised the subject again. This time, B relented. The Som Tum vendor had told B that she was the most beautiful ladyboy she had ever seen. B now confirmed the position. Not a ladyboy, but she was a full transsexual.
At first, I thought she was playing with me but I soon realised she was not as her smile evaporated and fear grew on her face that she had misjudged what my reaction would be.
The amazing thing for me is how I did react. It is incredible what you learn about yourself in a situation like that. As the truth dawned on me, I watched as a lifetime of conservative western morality dissolved before my eyes. As she told me her story I realised that it mattered nothing to me. I loved her – nothing more, nothing less.
I need to explain at this point that I am not sexually attracted to ladyboys or men generally. I don't say that in a homophobic sense at all. If I was so attracted that would be fine to. But I am , and always have been, attracted only to women. And B is most certainly that in every sense. She embodies physical and emotional femininity like no woman I have ever met in my life.
I know you are asking how, after so many encounters with B, did I not guess the truth? I have thought often about this. I can honestly say that, even with the benefit of hindsight, looking at old photos I have of her, I cannot detect one atom of masculinity in her being.
After that, we continued with our holiday and our bond only grew stronger. She relaxed with me in a way I had not seen before. We spent time with her family where I was treated with genuine warmth and respect as B's partner. Before I left, a party was thrown in our honour. A small group of friends and relatives tied betrothal bands on our arms.
There were no tears at Don Muang. Just a quiet sadness. I left with her words ringing in my ears….'come back get me'.
I am back home now and considering my plight. I am still besieged by calls and messages.
Doubts and fears also besiege me. Can she be for real? She knows I am not rich and such a superstar like her must have had far better opportunities in the past. Why me, why now? Is there an angle here? Some exotic scam I have not yet envisaged?
I have listened to the admonitions of the wise Stickman and I know the chances of this relationship succeeding are minuscule. I accept B as a woman without question. That is not a problem for me. But she is a Thai woman, and a bar girl to boot. The chances of her being happy with this modest living guy in his flint grey, mundane corner of farangland are virtually zero. You might as well farm orchids in the arctic. Yet I find myself taking those first tentative steps to applying for a visa for her. WHat am I up to? A lemming headed for the cliff, terrified but powerless to resist his destiny.
I know a lot of this story sounds corny and I have a habit of slipping into Mills and Boons prose, but what can I say… this is where I am right now. If nothing else, it sure ain't boring!
Who knows what will happen – but I sure feel out of my depth right now.
Like I said in previous emails to you, you know what I think about this…but like I also said, maybe someone out there has a success story that they would like to share with you…