Money Can’t Buy Me Love

I'll give you all I got to give if you say you'll love me too, I may not have a lot to give but what I got I'll give to you, I don't care too much for money, money can't buy me love. “Can’t Buy Me Love,” The Beatles

I have been a regular Stick reader for almost three years now and a recent contributor. One thing that has struck me in both submissions and email responses to my musings, is the constant bemoaning of the relationship gone bad. “I took care of
her, paid her allowance as agreed, but she still slept with her Thai boyfriend/left me for a richer customer/demanded more money than I could afford to pay. Why, why, oh why,” they ask. Why? Because that is what you signed up for. That
is the risk you take when you have an arrangement. If you approach it any differently you will be disappointed. Not maybe, not probably, definitely.

The whole point to the arrangement is to allow for a quid pro quo (this for that) between provider and recipient. It is a business transaction just like any other. That being said, everyone knows that some business transactions go more smoothly than others.
The one thing to always remember is that you owe her what you promised and you owe yourself what she agreed to provide. Try and short-change her when compensation is due, then you deserve what you get. Allow her to short you, you deserve what
you don’t get. This maxim can be applied to the short time relationship as easily as the girlfriend for hire.

I know there are men reading this and thinking it will be different for them. They are going to find, or have already found, that one jewel among the rubble. Despite having initially been hired help, the relationship is now genuine love. Real love. Well,
good for you I say. Congratulations, you’ve beaten the odds. Busted the house. Snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, you’ve (insert platitude here). Maybe.

We’ve all heard the story of the bargirl/farang relationship that went the distance. Or the regular couple that were married two weeks after they met and are still together 20 years later. True love. It’s these types of stories that keep
us going, keep us searching. We all want to believe we will win the lottery, have success beyond our wildest dreams. We believe we are the one who can smoke 3 packs a day, drink a quart of whiskey, eat bacon at every meal and live to 93. (All
the while still waking each morning with a raging stiffy). Unfortunately, I have some bad news fellow Stickmanite; you aren’t the one. Neither am I for that matter. We aren’t going to live the life of Richard Branson, doodling on
a pad in a hammock and turning the idea into a billion dollar company. But here’s the good news: so what? It doesn’t matter, because in the end we all end up the same, whether we lived as billionaire or pauper. Whether we were the
guy with a 50-year marriage or the guy with 50 years of marriage to 6 different women.

So what’s the point of my rant, you ask? My point is this: you can’t buy what isn’t for sale. No amount of wealth will bring you immortality, health, happiness or love. This is an absolute truth. So, don’t freeze your head
after you die, hoping to be thawed 200 years from now when they can cure what ailed you. Don’t take thousands of dollars of supplements guaranteed to extend your life (this is different from basic good nutrition and exercise). Don’t
join a cult and give them all your worldly goods for bliss on earth. And finally, don’t walk into a go-go bar and hope that your hard earned money will buy you love. It won’t. Plainly and simply put, it won’t. But don’t
despair my good man, all is not lost.

You live in a wonderful time I say. You are able to earn a tidy sum in the west and take your wealth to a place where fantasies can come true. Any of us can walk into a bar full of beautiful young women, all available to us and ready to satisfy our every
desire. We can frolic and play and enjoy our lives with gusto, living in a manner that was only available to royalty and the ultra-wealthy in the past. So enjoy it for what it is, I say, not for what it isn’t.

Don’t plan or hope for the bargirl to fall for you, because you dress nicely or shower three times a day. You’re still 25 years older than her. Why would you think she would fall for you? Think back to when you were 20, the world at your
feet, your body strong and your future limitless. Would you have rather have spent the day drinking cheap beer with your buddies on a raggedy, stained couch flirting with hard-bodied coeds, or living with a 50 year old woman in her beautiful home
drinking champagne? Lounging by her pool and whiling away the day, the only catch being she won’t let your friends, or for that matter young girls, lounge by her pool with you. Looks different from this angle, doesn’t it?

So, maybe love will strike you and your bargirl and you will live happily ever after. Or maybe, even better, she will stay in your condo, make wild love to you, wash your back and cook delicious meals for you. Then, just when you’re tiring of her,
she leaves you to return to her Thai boyfriend. Oh, how sad you are, well at least until that evening when you return to your favorite hunting grounds in search of “true love” once again. Happy hunting!