Fiancée and I are still waiting for all the documents to be processed. I send her a few pictures of me. She likes to see family snapshots and such.

I am a bit fatter now, but for her I choose pictures where she cannot see my extra kilos: me in a wide jacket, me behind the table. She won't notice I gained weight, and until wedding day I'll be slim as usual again; sure.

A few days later. "Your pictures make me smile!!", she says happily on the phone. "I like your new look – a bit more fat is nice!"

— A FARANG EX —

Over a walk around the lake, I tell one Farang ex that I'll finally marry my SE Asian lover.

She raises her eyebrows and remains silent for a while. I tell her that my future wife will quite soon move to my place. Would she, the Farang ex, have any ideas of how to make my place nicer for an Asian lady?

"You need two bedrooms", she says. "Two DIFFERENT bedrooms."

Then there seems to be a trace of a malicious smile around her lips, but I may be wrong here.

"I don't want to spoil your honeymoon mood", she starts. "Of course I wish you all the best."

"Yes, yes", I say, "but what do you really think?"

She explains: "You know, Pothole, marriage is a severe thing. Better think ahead now. Those Asian girls can ruin your life. Once they have citizenship, they will file for divorce and take all your belongings. All!"

She concludes: "Better see a lawyer and prepare a marriage-contract to protect your assets. Tell her whatever necessary to sign that paper. She can't read it anyway."

— THE FAVOURITE FARANG EX —

My favourite Farang ex stays over for the weekend, her family is parked elsewhere. Now for years, nothing but nice talk has happened between the favourite Farang ex and me. Even though we both harbour delightful memories of spicier times, and maybe sometimes she looks back with a smile and a certain longing, just as I?

We have one of our notoriously long, lazy breakfasts. She cuts croissants for her and me. "How's your Asian thingy", inquires the favourite Farang ex? Always an interesting, sweet topic.

When I tell her that we finally plan to marry, she looks quite miffed.

Why is she miffed, I inquire? She has a husband and children now. "Yes", she admits: "But I always thought you are my emergency exit when the marriage fails. Now you marry your bronze cutie and leave me alone!"

Female logic. Actually, several years ago, she left *me* alone – swapped me overnight for her future husband, reasoning: "Pothole, you're great fun and all. But for my family plan I can't use a wanderer like you." So I was downgraded to a secret lover.

I accepted that because I believed she was a goddess on the linen. See, I had not yet made the life-changing good-Asian-girl-experience. From kitchen to bedroom, I had not yet been flown Royal Pasha Class™, a service now provided 24/7 by my future Asian wife.

Favourite Farang ex beheads another boiled egg. She muses, then she has one more question: "How about faithfulness? Did you promise your Miss Almond Eyes to be faithful?" Pepper, salt, a smile.

Ha. I grin.

She continues: "You know, I told *my* hubby right away: You don't own me. I won't search around or something, but I am not your property."

Meaningful silence.

I guess she still knows me well enough. I couldn't honestly promise strict monogamy. Any attack with charm and talent would get me. Now tell that to your Asian wife.

But I don't answer the question about any promises I made. My fiancée definitely expects a faithful husband; I know that from our general discussions early on. So when I proposed to my fiancée, this implied I want to be faithful to her. Fully ok like that. Actually, I despise wives who tell their husbands to go straying.

I pour favourite Farang ex another orange juice. She works on something this morning. "So you fly over and bring her back to Farangland to marry", she sums up? – "Yes." I take an orange juice too. – "You know how difficult it is for me to go out without the attached family", says favourite Farang ex. – "Yes." – "And soon you'll be married", she says. – "Yes."

She looks me in the eyes and concludes: "Guess this weekend will be the very last time we meet one on one." Meaningful silence.

Stickman's thoughts:

Pothole, you cannot end the submission like that, you CAN'T!!!!