More Wild Animal Stories

Lately I have been day dreaming of having a girl give me a shower in the morning, washing me down, sleeping with me naked at night.

I have been thinking of having a Thai girl move in with me. Possibly she could just walk around my house in skimpy clothes and I could look at her. Reach out and touch her. I’m a lover of beauty. There’s nothing wrong with that or in wanting a bit of companionship.

However one should know exactly what one is getting into and have no illusions when a Thai girl moves in.

Physical stuff: nice body, cleanliness, sweet-smelling, terrific-looking, smiley, cooking and cleaning. They’re good at that.

Brain power? Don’t count on it.

Could I have someone to talk to and keep me company? Don’t be silly. This is an unreasonable expectation I told myself. One soon tires of mono-syllable conversations.

Ask any Thai where a street is, or a business or a building even if it’s only a few blocks away, how to get somewhere or what they think about what’s happening in the government or any kind of a question that requires just a little thought. They have no idea what so ever.

What can you expect of someone who passes the time by lounging around all day, zoning out and staring into space? If they really get ambitious they read a comic book.

Talk about the future-it’s not here yet and the past is gone, isn’t it.

There is only today and not much doing at that-nothing stirring in their simple minds except how to transfer cash from your ATM to theirs.

Then I think back to the few times that I did have a Thai girl living with me. One quit the bar that she was working at and gave me a few free days. I moved her in with a monthly salary. Every time we went shopping, she had to have something-anything, no matter what it was-and I bought it for her.

She said she could only stay for three months and when high season came she had to go back to work and make some real money. The three months passed and I was wondering when she was going to leave. One night I got drunk and told her that I loved her and did not want her to go back to the bar.

The next morning I woke up and had completely forgotten about what I said. Obviously she did not as she asked me for twenty-thousand baht. She wanted to get her eyes made rounder or something. I refused. Christ, she was costing me enough as it is.

‘Okay-you no give me money -I go back to bar.’

What the hell was this? I thought. I was angry as I had been giving her anything she wanted.

It was not until later in the afternoon that I remembered what I had said the night before and how it must have seeped into her feeble little brain and stayed there.

It was partly my fault-what happened.

‘Are you sure?’ I said.

‘Yes. I go bar.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. You no give money -I go bar.

I got up from my computer and grabbed her small suitcase and a few large black plastic garbage bags and started dumping her crap in them, including the new tennis racquet that she had wanted.

I got her and her stuff into the car and drove to Kata. It wasn’t far. Halfway there she started crying and saying she did not want to go back, that she was only joking, sobbing her eyes out. I almost felt like turning the car around-but the decision was made. I pulled up to the bar and threw the bags out on the street and sailed her tennis racquet as far away as I could.

A few years later, not having learned my lesson, I moved another cute little thing in. After three months I was going crazy. She would not let me out of her sight.

If I took the dogs for a walk on the beach she had to go.

I could take a ride on my Harley at any time- even visit a girly bar but she had to be right there. After a few more months I told her I couldn’t stand it. She had to leave. Christ, I could not even go to the bathroom alone I shouted at her.

‘Okay you can – no problem.

I shook my head. I would have to be more specific.

‘Get out! Pack up and leave.’

‘I have nowhere to go. I love you. I want stay here.’

‘I am going to pick up your stuff and throw it and you over the fence.’

‘Go ahead. I call police. Tell them you rape me.’

‘That’s ridiculous. You’re a bar girl and have been living here for months.’

‘I’m a Thai girl. Police also Thai. Who they believe? Tonight you sleep in jail.’ <This one is commonly said by Thai girls BECAUSE IT WORKS – Stick>

Jesus Christ, she had a point. A Mexican stand-off.

After a week of hard negotiations we settled on me giving her eighteen thousand baht to help her ‘find a new life.’ Meaning a new man and the money would tide her over. Okay, I could have paid more or paid less but at the time this looked like the only way she was going.

So now I am equating that having a Thai girl living with me would be like having a large rat in the house.

Yes, really. I mean it. It’s true.

Doesn’t sound nice? Okay let’s say, for the sake of propriety, a sizable stray alley cat that you found and have been feeding. It’s a beautiful but feral animal.

You never know when you are going to wake up in the middle of the night and find the cat chewing on your toes- blood seeping down your feet and all over the bed.

Or maybe one day she will bite into your jugular when you least suspect it. You just don’t know.

As one Stick submission said and I wish I could remember who it was. ‘You don’t pay them a thousand or two thousand to come to your house. You are actually paying them to leave in the morning.’

Whewww, case closed.

I have my two beautiful dogs to keep me company and I talk to them all of the time. They really try to listen to me and hear what I am saying. I swear.

They obey me without question. Wait home at the gate for me to return. I am absolutely sure of their love for me. And these are the only two animals that I will be having live with me.

What? What’s that you say? I am becoming more opinionated, vitriolic and mean-spirited in my submissions.

Yes, you’re right. I attribute it to the ‘Seven Year Itch’ syndrome. You remember the movie with Tom Ewell and Marilyn Monroe. It is based on the premise that after seven years of marriage, the relationship is diminished.

I’ve been here eight years and as beautiful as the country is I am just tired of the people.

Stickman's thoughts:

There's a reason why the say that a dog is a man's best friend. Not pussy, but dog.