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Ten Weeks With Non-Bargirls Part 5

  • Written by Bop Melow
  • October 24th, 2006
  • 16 min read


VI. Downslopes

Day 37: I'm back in BKK, and thank the god of the north pole for air conditioning. In the full sweat of a Thailand afternoon, making love has its limits, but inside of a curtained room with that thin white box along the ceiling – we can pump and pump for two or three shifts. Play time is not that free today, however, as I must catch up on work. A math teacher calls to tell me she is driving in from Aran to visit me. She leans toward western features but is not a mixed race person. tall, fit, outdoorsy, very articulate, very intelligent, very world-wise, hair almost to her crotch and beautiful. But my work schedule today is so friggin tight, it was difficult enough just to get away for brunch with her. She plays footsie under the table. She wants to go to my condo. But I won't have any free time until 6pm. We already had a long train of emails between us, and a lot is already known. She had a boyfriend, a UN low level diplomat, that dumped her after 2 years, now she is sensitive about rejection. Her eyes keep saying "Won't you accept me? Right now? I am here right now!" But I couldn't do anything until evening. And that set into motion a strange set of events. She returned home, quit her teaching job at the end of the school term, and moved to New Zealand. She says all of that was because of me. Wow. I really don't want quite that much riding on a single lunch! We continued talking for a year and she stuck to that story consistently all the while. She was running away from that awful feeling of "not chosen". However, part of it was timing: the final conclusion of her work contract that paid for her education. It was the time for "free at last!", and she really wanted to find someone to share that freedom with. Yet my own memories of her are fine. I do not feel I rejected her at all. If only she could have waited 6 hours. She could not accept that my work could be more important than "the love of my life", and she therefore concluded that she must not be the love of my life. Technically, she rejected me, but that is not how she felt about it. I surely see her many wonderful qualities. Back in the real world Aran would be a catch for me to be very proud of, happy with, and someone that could make a great "team" for success. But in the magic kingdom, bubbles do pop!

So, vanity aside, could it really be? such a strong response to a single failed date? Come on! Well, it depends on how much she invested into building expectations of a happy outcome. If she had gotten her hopes up, which is very easy to do over months of very positive emails, then there is potential for the pain of collapsing that dream. I cannot control what another person dreams, hopes, expects. But whenever the world cannot deliver, at least I can be an overly doting friend on the down-slope, to be there for her whether she blames me or not, try to smooth the rough spots, be encouraging, try in every way to give her ego a boost. I would much rather see a lady leave a relationship in anger than be devastated. I would much rather see a lady leave a relationship by having someone better to trade up to, than be angry.

Day 38: I have been testing out the notion that department store clerks can be "turned" by a farang. When I was shopping with Stalker, I did get a lot of attention from clerks, including free merchandise and invites to return later (while Stalker was out of earshot). But back then I was too naïve to make good on it. Now I want to see if I could get that working again. I visited five stores today, avoiding the male draws like electronic stores. I purchased a bunch of little things to legitimize my advances.

Well, it isn't so easy. First, the language barrier is usually there. Turns out the English speaking ones are placed where they are needed most, not in the women's underwear, but in the bars. Second, some large percentage of retail workers are married. The less education, the earlier the marriage. I did not live near any college campus, so students part-timing as store clerks were elsewhere. After a day's work the best I could do was share a coke with one clerk on her break. I might as well been in Farangland.

Things learned over 3 days of such attempts. 1) Go to where the students are. ( More English. More free time. More singles. More interest in foreigners. More natural curiosity. More playfulness). 2) Build a relationship. repeat visits are necessary unless you have a bridge Thai in tow to make introductions. I meet a lot more people per day when I am already with a Thai than when alone, because of this "bridge" factor to introduce me to friends and strangers both. 3) Some places employ higher quality people: banks, realtors, even car dealerships. I could have gotten a date from a bank teller because she followed me down the street making excuses for conversation. I choose not to when she told me she was 22. I did get a date from a realtor, but when I went back for a second visit, she had been replaced by a fat ugly one who would not tell me were PlotPlan had gone. And I easily got a date at a car dealership thanks to a referral, but half way through dinner I felt we had nothing in common.

An internet contact confessed she had been sending me pictures of her younger, cuter, thinner sister as though it were her. She sent me the "real" picture today = big tall girl. Yuck. The glass is broken. The problem with such lies is that it makes the face2face nearly impossible. Well, she was honest about being a teacher anyway. She knows her P and Q's.

Day 39: So what about doctors and professors? Turns out they can afford the don't live sequestered in dorms, and never found to be desperate. If they are status oriented, they will marry their own kind in the "proper" way. But, if single, they will start manoeuvring into meetings and lunches and evening events. They quickly give business cards with little notes of kindness and interest written on the back. My batting average for professors and doctors was low, one each, but we remain friends in both cases. They exchange a lot of data, but not so much heart. Sometimes, its way too much data, and I wonder what I am doing there. The Civil Engineering prof talked through our whole affair, like the radio newscast was on.

Day 40: By this time I am beginning to wonder, how high can a stranger go in this society of xenophiles? To find out, I needed to enlist the kindness of Thai males. I visited professors, who within minutes, introduced me to department heads. By lunch the heads were introducing me to deans and other decision-makers. By the end of the day, many referrals were garnered, to various points: funding agencies, government regulators, professional societies. I was invited to a conference conducted by the ministries of education and industry to budget more money for research and technology. It was convened within a world-class board room at NecTec, replete with sound studio in one corner, video studio on another corner, laptops and screen projection at each of the fifty lounge chairs, on-the-air illuminating microphones at each chair, fold out amenities at each chair, and lots of servants to move food, messages and demo devices from the labs about.

Well, all of this is interesting, but the higher you go the more certain the positions are male. On a 13 point scale there are almost no females above level 10. There were plenty of females in the labs, but they were all techs or nerds. Yet, of all the power in that board room full of university chancellors, industry v.p.'s and govt officials, one stood out: the alpha female. She was a tiny Chinese-blood bureaucrat, level 11,( the PM being a 13, and ministers 12). She was the dispenser of the budget to the universities and labs. She observed carefully and said almost nothing until the end. Very terse. Her closing sentence was. "Money is not the problem. Strong proposals is the problem." Last week, I had asked a University president and a Society Chair if I could get a tour of the government labs. NecTec, NanoTec, MedTec. Sure, he would arrange it. Turns out that the little Miss 11 assigned herself to be the tour guide. And today was the big day.

I made the horrible mistake of thinking I would need to bring a translator with me. We arrived at Miss 11's office for the tour, and to my great surprise she was not wearing her government uniform, as she had always before, but rather a cute little white with red polka-dot dress, rather teenager in style! While I was noticing the dress, Miss 11 was burning holes in my translator with her eyes. Then she looked at me angrily and said "There is a change in plans." She left and returned in five minutes changed back into her uniform. She then installed the two of us in a closet-sized office with a closet-like light bulb, and said "Wait here." Three and a half hours later, no lunch, she moved us into another office and said "just a minute." Two hours later she moved us into some dental materials conference that had no bearing on my visit what-so-ever, but we had been positioned so that it was awkward for us to leave without embarrassment until 6pm. Thus went my surprise date with Miss 11. The consolation prize was that it caused my translator to realize that she had just effortlessly won a sexual battle with one of the higher-ups in government, so she valued me all the more, and became all the more determined to satisfy my every pleasure. In fact it became very difficult to get her to return home, ever. Glue became her moniker.

Day 46: I need to fly down to Songkhla for a meeting. I call ahead for someone from the university to be my translator and guide. Two girls show up at the hotel (for some reason refusing to meet me at the airport, which is usually done). These two were Malay-like. I choose one to be "prime" and the other to be "backup". They accepted this. Then during that first day of chat, I found my prime to be a smoker/drinker type while the other was a more intellectual lawyer. So I asked to switch their positions. They accepted. I got a very nice treatment of shave, haircut, etc. from them personally at their house. That evening they hung around, we ate, we went to the live music venue (we 3 were the only audience, how can they afford this?), and drove around town a little to help me get acquainted. Back at the room, they said they will help me get unpacked for the night. Lawyer stayed close to me, with a little touching going on, even a swipe at my crotch. There were two twin beds in the room. The smoker/drinker sat down on one, and I laid down on the other, truly tired. Lawyer went for a shower, came out in a towel, and slipped into bed with me. She is losing my clothes under the sheets, and before long she was pulling my dick inside of her, while trying to make it all appear motionless to smoker/drinker. The light was still on. Later smoker/drinker was surprised to learn we made love, as she admitted she was watching for it. The velvet pussy. Well, that was two ladies in a hotel room for the night, but not exactly making the most out of it. Too bad I couldn't have sweet talked them into a genuine three-some. The next day, both drove me to the beach, but the drive was made longer by seeking out less crowded areas (too many times I heard: "stop, no let's go"). So there was time for kissy-face in the back seat. On the beach, we cooked a very nice meal, of ingredients readily available from the many vendors along the way, and we took a little catnap at a beach cottage for rent there. We were out on the porch, and Lawyer takes a lonely walk along the shore, gone for over an hour. So I warm up to smoker/drinker and she cuddles up along side me. But remains genuinely fearful of Lawyer, jumping at every twinge that she might be returning. Her passions were checked by fear. I later find out via pieces from both, that they wasted a months of their lives arguing over which of them I really loved the most. Their friendship was shattered, one moved out of their joint house, and to this day Lawyer writes to me: don't ever try to talk to her again. Of course this has nothing to do with me, but rather is a symptom of the need to escape, the need for a white knight, the overly high status of farangs in Thai common culture, thanks to American media. As though this point needed to be driven home, the TV has a movie on about a poor Thai girl who is rejected by her high school class as a loser. She marries a 75 year old farang and is thereby elevated to the highest status in the village. Soup operas and music videos can have similar themes.

Day 47: I took the blue bus to my next appointment. Unbeknown to me, Lawyer and smoker/drinker follow my bus in their car for 6 hours! My tomorrow's client has already arranged the hotel and limousine, with maps and instructions delivered to my room. I feel like royalty, marvelling at this generous treatment. I go out for a bus ride just to glimpse the city before sundown. I prefer the bus to a taxi because the whole point is to interact with people. Four female students are seated near enough to strike up a conversation. They tell me they are medical students in a 6 year program. I did not have the slightest inkling that I might get a date with a med student, so left things "strictly professional".

I returned to the hotel for dinner. The waitress seemed disturbed that I was to dine alone, and would come over and grab onto my chair back whenever her boss was in another room. She kept glancing my way from her waitress station later. Then there was a shift change and she left. So my hesitation to act cost me a waitress. The shift change, however brought with it Karaoke time! And in this case six paid singer/dancers were there to start things off. I showed as much rapt attention to each soloist as best I could as a distance member of the audience, but no real eye contact nor smiles were established. I was beginning to think that the south was not going to deliver as well as the north, and that this was going to be my first quiet night in 3 weeks. But hey, the fifth singer of the six actually notices me. She was in red: dress, lipstick, flower, shoes. And she really acted like she knew me. Waving and all. A bit formal, a bit young, but enchanting enough. Close up, and through all the evening's make-up I am coaxed by her to realize, she is one of the medical students! … on her part-time job, trying to make extra money to send home to her family. What a world.

I am more worn out than horny, so my interaction with her was more of a "test the culture" move than a snare-a-companion move. She wants to sit down and have dinner with me. She wants to know all about where I come from. English is weak, so it is slow going. But she is as good at asking questions as I am. I divert to tell her my room number. It neither moves us forward nor scares her away. We continue to chat. I bounce back to the room visit idea several more times. She smiles, but says she is a student, and must help her family, but she "maybe not go to room" (she smiles). I guess that means donations are gratefully accepted, but no sex. The best clue here is that she sits just at arm's length. Girls that want to be touched always sit close enough for it to happen. She stayed with me in the dining hall for 2-1/2 hours, but when I left for my room, she did not follow. Mama would be proud. Well, if not a money-desperate mama anyway.

So much the better, for not a minute into the room the phone rings (probably been ringing all evening). It was smoker/drinker, saying that she had followed my bus. Well, duh, if I knew you were going to do that, I would not have taken the bus – I'd have joined you. She said Lawyer "is love-sick. Needs to see you." So I said "Well, come on over, you two. I've got a room with two beds, same as last time." By this time I had begun to like smoker/drinker more because she took good care of me: hair cut, nails, facial, massage, pedicure, manicure, and other nice touches. She made it clear that she would jump my bones if only she could be sure Lawyer would stay away for 15 minutes. Lawyer liked to just stare – and fanaticize some escape to a perfect life in Farangland. I do not know how many grades of lawyer there are in Thailand, but she did not impress me as having mastered any international studies. She was more of a towny and smoker/drinker more of a metro.

So smoker/drinker refuses to come to my room, saying Lawyer would get angry. She gets a room someplace else and Lawyer comes over. I should add, that the whole 6 hour stalking the bus idea could be a sign of trouble. Obsessive?

Desperate? Crazy? I would have felt safer with two than one – on the grounds that it is statistically unlikely that both are equally crazy! Anyway, Lawyer comes alone. I am guarded at first. Finally I determine her intentions are not in any way destructive. She is just a love-sick girl. She just wants to stare at me -for hours. She lies down beside me, clothes on. I'm completely ok with that. I fall asleep. I wake up 4 or 5 times during the night (still leery? is there a knife in that purse? Has she read Romeo & Juliet?). The light is still on, Lawyer is still there in bed, staring at me. Only our hands touching. In the morning I ask her – why did you want to do that? She says: "I cannot find a way to say goodbye, I cannot let go. It hurts. I just kept saying to myself: "goodbye goodbye" We had only been together for 2 days, and look what happens.

[we still talk to each other by IM and email, 2 years later]

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