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Double Misery




There is no more miserable human being than one in whom the only thing that is habitual is indecision.

William James 1901 (or so)

Vanity vanity all is vanity

Ecclesiastics (from what I recall this phrase crops up more than the mantra in a techno track). For the unread Ecclesiastics is a book of the Old Testament and not a new form of ab reduction exercise.

Since I had the audacity to allot myself the handle Stickblogger it is incumbent upon me to lodge at least two postings to this site.

I wrote in my first posting ‘Double Happiness’ (must have been too boring to post on here) that I wanted to meet up with other (Stickmanites and lesser earthlings as Dana would have us) and proposed that this would be for the purposes of possibly entertaining myself in the company of other intelligent and amusing individuals such as myself. It is natural for parrots to want to hang with parrots and pigeons with pigeons. This has a certain face value but even I question its essential integrity. You see what I really suspect I want to do is resolve my indecision.

My two adult daughters are remarkable in their capacity for understanding and forgiveness towards their dear old addicted Dad. Even though I have been to Thailand separately with both of them (for part trips as they flew elsewhere) somehow I still seem perturbed by this concept I have of myself as a potentially proper monger. Thailand must be one of the few places where a father travels with his daughters and young female hotel receptionists invariably still assume you are a couple. More amusing to me than to them I can assure you.

On my last trip to Thailand (3rd) I went with my brother who has not had sex in 20 years (overweight long-haired cranky farang) and I was determined on this trip that he should do so but that I should remain aloof from this behaviour. I wanted to test whether my fascination with the place had more to it than simply cavorting around with young women I was not related to (don’t get freaky on me, my kids are Uni educated feminist Christian types). Anyway I did and we spent a fabulous 3 weeks riding elephants, visiting flower shows, rafting down rivers, riding motorbikes and so on in Chiang Mai and Pai with the obligatory hanging out at Nana while in Bangkok. On the last night of the trip we were in Chiang Mai and he still hadn’t scored (indecisive and scared) and had gone home. I was on my way home alone and drunk and had gone back to a bar where I had earlier met a subdued sweet sort of girl and had gone back to bar fine her as I had proved my personal point by this stage. She wasn’t there and it was 2 AM and the streets were fairly empty and I thought “oh well, I will go back this trip a virgin” and headed across the road where the moat is. Once across the road it was a couple of back lanes and I was home free. Ah, but this is Thailand and as I cross this road a stunner on a motorbike calls out and says, “where you go” and I says “back hotel you”. So thinking at this stage that I would take her home for my poor brother I hop on and then we are home. At this point my inebriety took over and I thought well I might just have a look at her before I send her in to him in the room next door (just so I have a memory to take home I am sure you understand) and next thing, well we didn’t go all the way because of my personal pledge but I hope he didn’t kiss her.

Now this sort of depravity is rather amusing in retrospect and certainly not typical behaviour for us as brothers. I enjoyed it more than he did because he was woken up from a slumber and wasn’t ready to party apparently. Not surprising after 20 years I suppose. I like a party however and recall going out in Nana alone and finding myself at Angels Disco. I stuck to my celibacy promise despite having a girl on either side of me in the booths on the side saying ‘no money is no ploblem we just want fun time with you, stay nice hotel’ when I said I wasn’t taking them home. Later that night I do however have some recollection of being in the female toilets with a woman of Russian extraction who I had met in the lounge with her ‘boyfriend’. She was insisting I must have her phone number instead of bacteria at that particular moment but didn’t mind me jerking off as she put her make up on but that’s just another one night in Bangkok story. Needless to say I don’t have too many incidents like this in the country town I come from. I guess I could have a few more seedy encounters than I do but I have a reputation to uphold and I might get arrested.

I went to Germany and Paris that same year (06) and had two potential sexual encounters. One surprisingly to me was with a cute young fraulein hippy type of about 25 who seemed extra friendly and decided to roll up a smoke for us in this Blues bar we were at. It may have gone somewhere (I was with my sister that time so never got to find out) and the other with a woman of my age. Apart from that I explored some red light districts but really there is no possible comparison for me with Thailand when it comes to the company of women. A hooker in Hamburg is a hooker in Sydney is a hooker in Hong Kong and you and they know it. A hooker in Thailand often remains an enigma in comparison. And I sure didn’t get young women working in shops and so on asking for my email or phone number like I do in Thailand. And by the way I was rolled in Paris and scammed one other time so Thailand also remains a safer option for sometimes drunks like myself. So far I have escaped unscathed.

Vanity vanity all is vanity but why does this vanity have to be so much fun? Regardless of whether I delude myself as everyone is at pains to point out to us newbies, the delusion is still fun and it is a mutual one between us and these Isaan girls. Goodness me some of us poor souls sit around in our hometowns whiling away the hours that make up a dull day and waiting for something or someone to take us away (name that song). And so do these girls dream of somewhere else, of another life, of a comfortable life not realising that the life they have and who they are is what ultimately suits them best. What good is it being holed up in some flat in Germany or Australia to a girl from a rice paddy. But since it doesn’t happen for us or them the weaker amongst us nurse a beer or a bong or play the pokies to dream and delude ourselves but hell we have been there done that before. An eccie puts the cycle onto spin occasionally for me but at near 50 that remains an infrequent somewhat guilty pleasure.

Having said that I am aware from other writers there are exceptions to this rule. Ain’t life grand in this respect.

I envy all of you who are not plagued by such indecision whether you are taking everything home that moves or have decided to settle for one Thai woman or simply go to ride elephants and whales.

In my case I alternate between a defeatist hedonism and trying to be a good ( but obviously unsuccessful and unconvinced ) AA member praying all the time to his Higher Power. At this point I return to my original quote that there is no more miserable human being that one in whom the only thing that is habitual is indecision. Perhaps I shall tell you of the wonders of recovery next time I am in it but for now its hats off to the dreams of semi heroic hedonism that are only to be realised when I am regularly asked ‘where you go’ hansum man and I say “I go you, where you go.”

Stickman's thoughts:

"The delusion is still fun" – nice quote this. Believe me, the "illusion" does not last forever!