Enchanted Sad Bastard…
The couple of articles I wrote received positive feedback via email but miss the point somewhat. Escaping the clutches of a lovely young Thai girl, and her rotten Thai husband, without any real loss of money after four years is, of course, an achievement
worth applauding, and hopefully others will emulate it without loss of life or money, just to enrage these people for the sake of it.
However, after a bit of reflection it does leave me as something of a sad fifty-five year-old bastard, muttering under my breath at the unfairness of the world and buzzing away in my head at what could have been if the gal had been willing to dump on Khun Orang-utan and fly off into sunset rather than later ensnare a farang newbie and use our perfect record of travel as the main weapon in getting the lucky chap to get her another UK visitor's visa – if her luck holds!
Fortunately, I only told her I lived outside of London, which is perfectly true – nearly everywhere in the UK is outside of London. You may note that this is the kind of sentence b-gals love to use, totally true in its way but completely misleading in actuality. I am sure if she turned up on my doorstep I would end up taking her in and enjoying her charms whilst she plotted how to get her hands on my stash of dosh.
Her dreams of marriage were mostly of getting a job so she could send money back to Thailand, and she would probably have made a great wife for five, ten years – if I didn't worry about all the f..king around behind my back and Khun Orang-utan gaining massive face from all the money coming his way. The new guy (so my contacts tell me) has only been to Thailand twice and is really clueless about Thai ways and his ignorance may possibly save him a lot of angst but at some point the babe's luck will run out and, as he is one of those big guys with a short fuse, violence may well ensue.
It's highly unlikely that I will run into her by chance, and I should wish her luck but my head has ended up so messed up that I can't really do it. Of course, if I got lucky with a new lady then my feelings would be entirely different! Although the Happy Hooker never sat foot in my new house, she still seems to have intruded into my life – I keep thinking how happy she would be in the modern, high tech kitchen or pottering in the garden or deciding which of the bathrooms she wanted to take over for her personal use. My head buzzes with this nonsense.
A year or so ago, when I still had the old house which we had occupied about five or six times when it wasn't rented out, I had tried to finish with her then (when I was in the UK on a brief solo trip) but the memories from that place completely killed me and sent me into a black depression so I had to back-pedal desperately on that and saved the day by buying her a diamond ring. Just before Valentine's Day, and my reward for that was for Khun Orang-utan to turn up – recognized his motorcycle parked in the carpark, although only for a night of fun as far as I could tell.
I am pretty sure that someone had taught the babe how to manipulate the pressure point on the back of the neck to make you black out when asleep – I caught her a couple of times when it did not work but she said just a bit of neck massage to make me sleep better. Later, I fitted a two sided lock to the door, threw the spare keys away and hid the remaining one when we went to sleep or kept it on me in the toilet (I am one of those people who reads a book on the loo). All the beauty drained out of her face into one of those long Thai scowls when she figured what I was doing but she did not challenge me on it, just had to phone Khun Orang-utan and apologize that she could not see him. Sometimes he would disappear for a few months, working somewhere, and the gal would be a lot more relaxed and happier. I would even begin to think that my intransigence had won the day but sooner or later he would turn up again, absolutely determined to get his pound of flesh despite having another girlfriend. Her kinda ideal situation would have been for me to buy an expensive condo and have Khun Orang-utan on site cleaning the septic tanks or doing minor building work.
When we started the relationship, she went to both a Pa Mot and Ma Mot (male and female witches) – but left me outside, and I kept finding strange herbs under the bed. She freaked when I put one set down the toilet. I do believe in the power of the mind in a limited way and wear a couple of Buddhist amulets given to me by past women – I think they are good stuff because they were well pissed when I refused to give them back after we finished. Early on I was really suspicious about what was going down and was all for finishing after a mere three weeks (and I should have gone on my instincts but there you go, she was in many ways so lovely) and for some reason, one night, I opened the door to find this Thai guy lounging on the wall opposite giving the room a stare that you only ever see in the movies – his eyes were actual red hot coals; she, of course, claimed not to know who he was but I later figured he must've been the Pa Mot, summoned to finish off his job of enchantment. Or perhaps he was pissed I had flushed his magic charms down the toilet. Although a lot of people scoff at the supernatural, if you had seen the state of this guy's eyes brimming with wolfish hostility you would have to think twice about it.
Recently, after dumping the SIM so she could not contact me again, I have been having panic attacks – shortness of breath, shaking limbs and my mind buzzing away with what I have lost – but only for five or so minutes, which I can kind of control with deep breathing. Then I had a few days when I was totally manic, getting up at six in the morning, working for hours on the house and then going for a ten mile walk into town and back in a big circle and then only calming down in the night with a couple of beers. So far I am drinking sanely, the couple of bottles of San Miguel cheering me up and allowing me to sleep okay, but I know how nasty the black depression can be when dealing with the after-effects of finishing with these women (I finished six months ago and was okay but stupidly sent her an SMS on her birthday and got a lot of bullshit on the phone subsequently before killing the SIM), and hopefully will continue to avoid that level of depression.
I am in contact with a couple of Filipinas on the dating sites, and use Skype to phone them up when I am starting to feel totally out it – the most charming has eight sisters and three brothers plus, no doubt, a mind bendingly extended family. She is the youngest of the lot and seems nicely reserved without any sense of hustle (but that is how good hustlers would anyway appear) and we have a dinner date in Cebu – be amusing if the whole family turns up to check out the foreigner! A couple of people have emailed to try to warn me off the PI (I have been to Manila many times, even as long ago as when they had go-go bars in Ermita), citing the level of gun violence but you only live once and have to hope that your luck holds. Others complain about the manic Catholicism – one friend who wanted to marry a Filipina converted by the simple expedient of bribing a priest – tinged with a complete lack of morality. As someone who wasn't even baptised and only reluctantly goes into churches for marriages and funerals, that will probably be interesting, too!
Although there are moments of exhilaration from getting away from the Happy Hooker there is also a lot of ranting and raving going through my mind; I could not say that these were the best years of my life but they were full of energy, exhilaration and excitement as well as occasionally throwing a fit and completely losing it and wanting to kill them for their tricks. Having escaped, I really would not go back to that life but right now I am not thrilled at the prospect of starting all over again, the moral of this story should be to go with your instincts at the earliest point of revelation rather than hope that things will get better later on – they won't, these girls will not change. I can guarantee that even if the Happy Hooker stays in the UK for an unbroken ten years the first thing she will do when back on Thai soil is demand to know where Khun Orang-utan is – and that, for me, is completely unacceptable however much fun and joy there might be in that intervening decade. And that is a very tough call for me to make and does not fill me full of joy and happiness. But there you go..
Absolutely agree with your closing comments. Go with your gut instinct.