When I was married to a Thai girl, Part 2

So here it goes then, I was starting to realise my marriage wasn't what it really was, we'd just been to Thailand for the wedding and returned, to a somewhat dusty flat, but we made it back. First thing was to excitedly go and get my cat back from the neighbours place and tell her all about my adventures as a husband. The cat was rather unenthusiastc, much like my wife was becoming.
One of the first instances of my realisation that a banana skin had been thrown in was when I withdrew some cash from an ATM at the Palmers Green branch of Abbey National using a Barclays card. The ATM charged me 30 pence for the privelege.

When I got back and gave her the ATM slip she hit the roof at the 30p charge, telling me how stupud I was and how I never "save money". She told everybody at the restaurant, well all the Thais anyway. Some of them were indifferent to her attitude. Where some agreed that I was a stupid carefree farang who throws money away, some took my side in the matter, ie the Thais who were there who had been educated and brought up in London. Surprise surprise.

That night as I lay on the sofa watching ...something to pass the time, I tried to cast my mind forward a year..what would I be doing? With whom? How much more would my current situation deteriorate? I had already envisaged a break up and had to accept it for real. I gave up having too much heart in the marriage after the Thailand trip and certain events that occurred, like when we were in a Bangkok sharks fin restaurant and she wanted to show her status to the staff, so she did it, by being rude and ignorant, and when I questioned her, she cast a sarcastic smile that said "So what can you do about it? this is my country", the same smile that she gave me when she was egging me on to hit her before she finally left not that long after. A smile she knew I f**king hated with a vengence.

Back in the UK, she started again. On the phone to Thailand with the cheap phonecard, lousy reception so she would talk very loudly, and to save money she'd talk very fast. If you could imagine that for a second, it annoyed the fuck out of me, especially when she started talking to different regional Thais and using "sawadee Ja" instead of "kaa". It sounded so fucking false. Then I realised, she was being false. I'd say 75% of her existence was being false. Her workmates must have hated her at the restaurant she worked at, she could be a real spiteful bitch at times.

I couldn't go to bed never mind sleep, I was insomniac, so I went to my neighbour, Anthony's place, and for the last time I was able to convince him that I was having a happy marriage with a girl who was "up for it" and never left me wanting sexually. How I fooled him, so I thought. I used to tell him bullshit tales of being at it all night and something to do with oysters, and he loved it, until now..

"Pat" he said to me one day "Tell me the truth man" (he's Jamaican) "You ain't gettin shit are ya?" He was good at getting straight to the point.

I may as well just tell him.
"Nope and I haven't since April when we were in Thailand, and that was like having sexual relations with a large leg of beef, you know the shit you see hangin' up at the butchers...."

"Ok Pat very funny....boy, you gotta sort that shit out, man, no bitch ain't gonna play that shit with me"

"What the fuck do you want me to say? Does it not occur to you that our marriage is a sexual sham?"

"Since when?"

"Honestly, about 4 months after the first wedding in London, so almost 18 months"

"Pat man you want out of that shit don't ya?"

"You mean the dreaded "D" word?" I pretended to appear more shocked than I was.

"Well if you wanna give it a name then yes, divorce"

He stormed into the kitchen and made a cup of tea, and then threw it away when one of the biscuits he dunked in it collapsed and went into his
steaming mug. He slammed it on the sideboard.

"What you so worked up about?" I asked

"No bitch fucks with my bro', you know what I'm sayin'?"

"Chill man we'll talk later, I gotta go to Safeways to get some bin bags and bog roll"

"Ok man, I'm coming with ya" And threw his coat on.

"You see Pat, in life, girls will always come and go, but man will always be sitting on the porch chattin' about the times back in the day"

"This ain't Boyz in the Hood man, be serious" I said half jokingly.

"I am serious, that Italian gal did that same shit to me and I fucked her off, she tried to get the flat and all that but I'm smart, I know what these bitches want in life, stability and to take someone to the cleaners, that's a womans goal in life, to get her revenge on Adam for givin it to Eve up the chocolate tunnel in the Garden of Eden, just before she sucked off the snake in return for an apple"

"You believe that?" I was forced to picture the scene he just envisaged.

"Adam was black you know" He nodded as if he knew it was gospel "Kind of like a black olive colour"

"Ok Spike Lee, spare me the sermon mate"

Three days later I bought my fist bag of grass for ages, I was determined to be selfish and give myself some comforts rather than be trapped in this godforsaken arrangement. She's enjoying her life, controls the money, enjoys that too, does she think I'm enjoying mine? I don't think she gives a shit.

I flew away that night with the aid of a few cans of beer and her cackling on the phone became a distant murmur as I flew away with the cat perched on my stomach as I lay on the sofa.

I was woken startled a few minutes later by my wife screaming the words "Gan-jaa" several times out loud hysterically. She whacked the lights full on and I squinted.

"Why you smoke? it's mai dee, for guy with 'jai dam' you know, it's no good, same same very bad"

"Because I am trying to relax and I can't"

"Why?"

What a fucking nerve, after all this time with her nocturnal phone habits she has the balls to ask me that.

"You won't let me shut the living room door and all I can hear is you screaming at Thailand all night"

"It's for business, for us together in Thailand, it's important, you want that right? Or you want girl from a go-go give you hiv?"
She was obsessed with that last statemant and I counted that as the 16th time of her saying it.

"Right now I wanna be happy, that's all, and when I say now, I mean now, as in now, at 1.47am, here in my living room, I wanna relax at home and be allowed to. what about Thai men? Are they allowed to relax? Hell yeah"

I slammed the living room door shut as she left to go back to the bedroom. A small victory for yours truely. 1-0 to me so far. What was next?

As it was now October and I was preparing for the annual december slog of gigs back to back day after day, she went to Chiang Mai for the wedding of a good Thai friend we had met when he studied at St. Martins Art School in London. We had helped him with small favours like storage and loans and he always siad he'd look after us in the future.

His best man at the wedding was Thaksin Shinawatra's brother, and my wife being the person she was, had her picture taken with Thaksin himself, and that picture still to this day hangs framed in her restaurant in Nakhon Pathom. It brings in hordes of customer, coupled with the fact that her father used to be the mayor, it makes for a very high status-looking position to be in.

I had a glorious ten days at home alone or with at my neighbours, getting out of it once again like kids and talking about women and what we think they'd make good uses as. "Someone to love who'll do a bit of ironing for you" was the verdict.

To be continued.

What happened to part 1?

part 1 was ages ago. do a search.

I fokin hate this shit which you have already posted on t'other channel...

why do you need to cross-post it?...

Some of us don't vist the other channel. Well done Pat.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by klongmaster

I fokin hate this shit which you have already posted on t'other channel...

why do you need to cross-post it?...

---

You should calm down or you'll give yourself a heart attack.

Good post Pat.

Good "Good post Pat" post CMN

ok cvntie...cross-posting is the name of the game...

here's the part from your thread over there that you didn't post but which was much more interesting


Originally posted on t’other channel in the CD Player’s thread by DunceCap

So, there I was fresh off the plane and enjoying the Thai sunshine. I strolled around abit trying to see many sites. An old temple here, an open market there. That's when, being of the horny american variety, I decided to check out some of the other things Thailand has to offer.
It took me little time to find pat pong, and was amazed at the night scenery. I peeked in a few go-gos, drank a few beers the toured around some more. There is a lot to see in all the nooks and cranies. I wanted to see it all. I sampled some of the goods and was not displeased. Although at the pat pong it does get crowded, so I decided to maybe see if there were some other places.
I had bought a map to help me navigate around bkk. I was trying to find this place i had heard about...a soi cowboy. try as I may, i could not find it on foot. I tried for over a week-no luck. Finally, i broke down and took a cab. Ten minutes later I am walking down soi cowboy..wow! what a difference from pat pong. Night after night I tried a new place. Man what a great little haven in this world. I would experience some difficulties, like cabbies ripping me off or the occasional girl who would not be so fun, and other nuances of life here in Thailand that we all experience in our own time. then upon talking with a guy from England, I learned about a place called, Nana. It was easy to find. Not directed to the open objective of soi cowboy, but it had its own character. So, I started to alternate between Nana and cowboy on different nights. The morning came and always the same thing, I would give them a little extra if i felt satisfied as a consumer-a tip if you will.

After about two months of this, i decided that pattaya would be a place to hang out for a break from bkk. I arrived checked into a hotel and stayed for the next two months...had a couple regulars but pretty much moved on. It was not much different from Bkk just more well populated by seekers and escapists as well as genuine tourists. My routine became stagnant so i headed back to Bangkok for the real Thai experience.

The next night I was at pat pong again. Not for the ladies but getting the cd's and Dvd's that didn't yet have..................that is when it happened.....I saw her!
This angel. This piece of heaven. Her eyes a glow with the wonder of life. And that irresistable smile. She didn't say much. I didn't say much. But it was there that definite yet undefinable connection. Yes, we had chemistry alright, but it seemed more than that......something more. the night ended with me trying to speak Thai and understand what she was saying and hoping she understood some of what I was saying. I climbed aboard the skytrain with renewed strength, gusto, and a look to the future. I tossed and turned all night. What is it about this girl? Yes, she was beautiful, but that really didn't get to it.
I woke the next day with a resolve to explore this avenue. I stayed away from all other haunts. To pat pong I would go night after night just to see if she would be there. She sold lamp shades. I would sometimes arrive early and help her set up. We would try to talk but the language barrier was quite large. A friend of hers, who spoke some English, helped with some of the conversations. I was able to let her know where i was from, my age, and that I was independently wealthy from a family inheritance. I learned that she was only 18 and from some city to the north and east. 18 yrs old! I was shocked. too, young. way too young! but that smile. Them eyes....she had this laugh. We would eat together on her breaks. She was never allowed to leave the pat pong night market area. Some mafia boss ran part of the business there and had bought all the girls who worked there. He had purchased them directly from their families. The girls were to be trained as workers; selling this mans wares. They were kept in big houses and driven to pat pong in vans every day-seven days a week.
After 2 months of visiting her nightly.....I had decided...that maybe she wasn't so young...TiT.
The plan was we would make a break for it. But there were problems. She was from some small village, Bkk is huge and scary. When the boss noticed I was a more than a regular customer, he started to move her around. Turns out he had stahls all over the city. At times it took me a week to relocate her. it was always a joyful reunion-but sad. We knew they would just move her again. Upon a bold plan I took her in hand one night and boldly strolled off to the skytrain. Near the bottom of the escalator we were pounced on. I didn't see them coming. I don't know how many there were. I woke up not far from the escalator. my head bleeding and sore, but I was lucky to be alive.
I searched in vain for 3 months. No sign of her. I tried to involve the police but was told I was mistaken about things. The girls all said they were happy to work for this man. I had learned from a another guy that sometimes money can sway the thinking of the Thai police. I discreetly offered some doe. It was given back and I was told that any further attempt would be met with severe punishment or deportation. I went back to my hotel and opened a beer. Where is she? Is she dead? Fear for her life crept into my mind all that night.
I didn't give up, however, during the next week I canvassed all of pat pong and other stahl locations. I didn't find her. But i did find the other girl. the girl that had helped us have our first real conversation. She let me know that we had to act fast and get to a place we could talk away from others. Next thing I know I climbing over the wall into some bathroom that stinks like a Thai sewer pipe. She was in there waiting for me when i got over. She explained my friend's disappearance.
After our hurried discussion, i rescaled the wall and headed for my hotel room.
.....sorry I didn't realize I was blabberin so much.
We got together in the end.


The next chapter.......
She had been sent back home to her village, after they beat her for causing trouble. With a phone number supplied by the friend, I called some house in her village(I called....I can't speak thai) so someone answered and spoke thia, I couldn't understand a word. I located an interpreter and made a new call. It was the right village and she was just down the road. I marked the location on my trusty Thailand map and boarded a bus. I arrived two days later. I was met at the bus station by a horde of Thais. Some were her family and the rest were from around the village. They had come to see the farang. But, alas, she was there too!

She lived in a corner of a shed(thai house in isaan). I met her entire family. I did my best to be polite. I was shown that I would sleep on the other side of the room-away from their daughter. So for a few days we ate, drank, looked at each other and smiled. I couldn't speak thai, and they couldn't speak eng. They certainly knew why I was there. Though we took some day walks, it was strictly hands off. One afternoon, we were gathered together on their front porch, and out comes a writing tablet and a pencil. Now there is one language we all speak-numbers. They wrote down a number. I shook my head. I wrote down a number. they shook their heads. This 18 yr old girl sat in the middle smiling as the tablet got passed back and forth. Food and drinks were brought in. We wrote passed and shook all afternoon. Finally, my starry eyed 18 yr old child of destiny, smiles at me and gives me a look of profound insight at what might possibly be instore for me, if I could just agree to a number--I looked at the tablet and nodded my head. They smiled. They partied. They danced and sung. Farmers came from all around to join in the celebration. I ordered lots of beer and wiskey. I was sent to stay at a hotel in the next town over. This was so they could prepare, but it also gave me time to arrange things for myself.

I made phone calls and got my finances in order. I went to a local bank and after a couple of hours left with a sizeable amount of cash. She is so beautiful. She is so niave to this world. She knows rice farming and lamp shade sales. The things I will show her, teach her, give her.

The next day finds me showered and bag in hand waiting to be brought back to the house to get this thing over with. I arrive not to her house, but the neighbor's. We line-up like a big parade and walk to her house. They are shouting, singing, dancing-I'm drinking and anticipating. It's hot and the sun is cooking us as we parade on over to her place.
Man what a sight there is tons of food, tons of people, gallons of beer, and happy faces all around. Now they lead me over to a group of people and a lady comes forward, in eng. she says she is a teacher at the local school. She said she would guide me through this ceremony. But that, This first group I am brought to, represents the silver door, and a gift must be given in order to pass. There is music and dancing and staring as I stand there contemplating this gift. So, I reach in my bag and pull out some cash. The teacher points to an old lady. I recognize her as the grandmother. I hand her the cash and suddenly they dance to the side letting me and my group pass. Next we are brought closer to the house where they wash my feet in water lift me up and set me on the first step. I am told this is the golden gate and a deep wai and a gift as well must be given. In the bag i go again this time knowing gold is more valuable then silver, i pull out more cash. I wai the grandfather who approaches and give him this wad of cash. He steps to the side and i am allowed to pass. I get to the front door, but they indicate for me to go to the middle of the porch. I go and am told to sit down. The music suddenly stops. The people become amazingly quiet. Out from the door steps this heavenly site. It's my girl all beautified Isaan style. She was a stunner. My eyes grew wide in anticipation and delight. She glides over next to me and sits very delicately. In front of us is this water basin made of bronze some other ornamentation and odd looking things. An old man, dressed rather stragnely, walks over and places his hands atop both our heads and begins chanting. This is repeated several times while everyone else is still being very quiet. he then takes a hand broom like thing and splashes water on us while speaking mystical cantations of protection-my guess. Then arrives two carefully handled bowls of which I am told i am not allowed to touch with my hands, but that i must drink from one. I watch in amazement as my 18 yr old beauty bride to be, picks up one of the bowls with her mouth, scoops water from the large bronze bowl, tilts her head back, then lets the bowl fall to the ground. there are gasps from the crowd and everyone seems to be interested in how her bowl landed. I do my best to copy this feat. I got wet. I choked. But I got it done. Again there were gasps from the crowd. They drew in close and watched the bowls fall as this was repeated three times.
It was hot out but at least the porch was shaded. As soon as the bowls were cleared away, out comes some small plates and a dead chicken. It looked cooked. it was wrapped in some banana leaves which were browned. The old shaman starts chanting away again, while ripping open this chicken. He pulls out a bone or two and examines them carefully, before displaying them to the crowd. There are whispers and such from the onlookers. I am told that again i am not to use my hands but that i must eat three pieces of chicken. Just then and there I was about to protest at my lack of skills in doing such a thing, when the old man tears away some pieces of the chicken and places them on our plates. Thankfully making this much easier. My bride to be leans down and picks up a piece in her mouth and sits back up so that all can see her eat it. Now, feeling that i was pretty far out of my element, i had to admire the way she gobbled down that chicken. And the way she cleaned her lips afterward sent me straight down to pick up my first piece. Up I came chewing away. Down she went for her next piece. We completed this task soon enough. She did a much more delicate job then me. Someone from behind us reached around with some tissue and wiped both our faces. The old man did some more chanting putting his hands on our heads a few times. Then the longest parade of people came and tied strings around our wrists and arms. All the while smiling and sayings nice sounding things. This done we went to one of the tables for some food. I drank some beer ate some food and waied some older folks that came to smile and wai me.
Music was played, people danced, then in the evening we were led from the table to the house. Slowly we entered the house, which for the first time, I saw had been carefully cleaned and rearranged. Some drapery was hung to divide the room in half. To one side of the drape sat her mother and father on a mat. next to them was the ceremonial bronze bowl. Behind them was hung a large portrait of his majesty. My bride to be led me over to sit in front of them. They waied, I waied, we all waied. Then we waied the king and the bronze bowl. They said some things in Thai that sounded very different then the thai I had heard before. Then we just sat there staring at one another. Some time passed. Still we stared. Finally, the father takes from beneath his shirt a tablet upon which are some carefully written numbers. I suddenly realized, I had not yet paid for my......wi....no....culturally speaking i had not paid for my part of the agreement. I slowly got up and went to the porch and got my bag. I sat down and and produced what we had agreed. They smiled. They really smiled. I couldn't see there ears.

The money was spread in some weird layered pattern on the floor while others came in to look or take pictures. After this, we posed for more pictures than I thought were necessary- an awful lot. I must say that I don't think I was smiling in all of them.
Now it was later in the evening and many people had gone. We were still in the little room in the house. The teacher, being one of the last to leave, told me that everyone else would be sleeping somewhere else tonight as this would give us the privacy appropriate for the occasion. I smiled. I really smiled. You couldn't see my ears.
Well we all know what happens when boys and girls get together. Not all's well that ends well, if you care to read some of the other horror stories on these threads.

And so it came to pass---------- I will never tell how much I paid for that one night of ....... let's just call it a fanatsy night made real....real.......real......real farking expensive. A lot of time has passed since then.....she has had a baby...cute little thing......Not mine!

They say money can't buy happiness.....

I wasn't about to clear a spot and build a house next to ma and pa Isaan, so I packed up the new wife and headed for BKK. We stayed in a hotel for awhile, and looked for a place suitable for western style habitation. We would set out each day consulting different sources for a decent place. I must admit I felt strange at times walking with her because I would get the weirdest looks from people. Here is this older guy and this young beauty-Cradle robber was the feeling. At night there was no cradle to be seen.
She was a fast learner!
We found a place out near "the land of coconut trees," or Lad Prao as it is commonly called. She had very little in the way of luggage and I needed only to move my things from the other hotel. The place was very empty. We started with a mat on the floor in one of the upper rooms. We would crank the AC. and I would go about teaching ner the things she needed most to know, if this was going to work. I started with English, and, like I said, she was a quick learner. I started with anatomy-the important stuff.
We made trips to all kinds of shops and stores to fill that house and make it liveable. One day I was out hunting for a good computer as my lap top was of the older variety, and I come home to her cooking dinner.......which was a nice thing to do, but I hadn't realized the impact of her culinary arts training. There were bags of all sorts of food stuffs all over the floor in the kitchen, plates and bowls full of chopped this and that were set in neat rows on the floor near the wall. There she sat in the middle banging away with some stick like thing in a big marble bowl. Bak-Bak, she smiled up at me. I looked at her and smiled. Here was this lovely 18 yr old newlywed trying her best to do her instinctual wifely duties. I glanced around the room. From the looks of things she had been at it for awhile. The entire kitchen floor was covered with her hard work. However, there sat the large table I had bought-empty. I looked at the counter-empty. She had learned to cook in the dirt back home. Try as I may to get her to use the counter; she preferred the floor-for many things.
The first real trouble we had arrived about 2 months after we got the house. Ding-dong! Hi, its cousin suzie from our village back home. Suzie was a backward niave hillbilly from the word go. But, now my wife had someone with whom she could converse more regularly. And talk they did. The first talking was about how they needed mobile phones to let the people back home know how life in Bkk was going. Off we went to the nearest phone shop and we each got a shiny new gizmo. They never had phones before, but they were quick learners. Their phones rang day and night. Then came the new TV and UBC. Then one day when I was hammering away on the computer she took an interest. Off to the computer shop. About a week later, they installed my internet connection.
I had made one of the rooms up stairs my office. This was where I could close the door and spend some personal time.
I came down stairs one evening to find both of them prancing around the livingroom in their underwear giggling. A sight pleasing to the eyes, but why they were doing it was a bit of a shocker. It turns out they have figured out how to chat on messenger, and some guy has convinced them to show themselves. When I look at the computer screen here is this guy yanking on mr wally while watching this exotic performance. I didn't yell; just calmly shut the computer down and tried to explain that what they were doing was a bit over the line.
Innocence was fading fast it seems. My wife and her cousin had made their first semi-porno. I felt we needed to get away from this non-sense, so all three of us headed to Jomtien beach for a breather. We got a nice hotel on the beach and played in the water. At night we walked along the water's edge. My wife's cousin would stay behind at times to give us together time on some of these walks. Then I had the crazy idea of showing them real life. What Thai girls with poor educations end up doing.
We took a song taew over to Pattaya. Their eyes grew wide at all the girls. We stopped at a few bars. They talked with the girls while I drank and watched. This would open their eyes was my thought.

Now here is where I would like to interject and say that this all started as a little blib about my 18 yr old thai wife......it seems it has gotten out of hand. But there is a little more.......a little more of what we would call......yes, like that....she was like that......

Skipping passed the Pattaya thing.....the cousin met some Thai guy and they married soon after. (In case you are wondering---no I didn't.)
We were back to Bkk and life of newlyweds. Being married and trying to be a good provider, I got her a credit card and a bank account. I kept it strictly separate from mine.
She was in the shower, when her phone rang. I answered it and some guy on the other end says, "who are you?"
That's where I'll end this one...........(and no he's not the father)

After a few PM's I (DunceCap) have decided to continue this.


There is a reason they call it a broken heart.......

"NO, who the fuck are you?" I shouted back into the phone. But who ever it was just hung up. I looked at the numbers on her phone. A lot of men's names that were western. There were Thai names but I couldn't tell you if they were male or female. Before she came out from the bathroom I got out a writing tablet and listed the names and numbers. Something was definitely not right about this.
I was watching TV and thinking when she came down stairs. She asked me if I had seen her phone. I said yes, it's in the kitchen. I had put it there as a tactic to see if there was more to this plot than the ordinary horny scrog with some lustful chap. She got her phone and was headed back up stairs when I asked her to have a seat so we could talk. I had invested a lot in this relationship, so it seemed a fair amount of open-mindedness might do me a good deal here. She sat close to me on the sofa, and I could feel the cool soothing touch of her skin on my arm. I thought the best place to start would be a direct frontal assault.
"When you were in the shower a man called on the phone. When I answered it, he asked me who I was." she moved over slightly and diverted her eyes briefly. I continued, "Who is this guy and why would he ask a question like that?" I watched her eyes searching for something.
She smiled that wicked sinning smile. The one I can't hide my self from. She played with her phone for a minute, then said, "That was Mike. I met him at Sala daeng near the skytrain. But, I don't know why he would ask who you are. He doesn't even know I'm married." She finished this looking very innocent.
Not expecting this I said, "So, you have been telling people you are not married?" I said this to her, but it echoed round in my head. There was some underlying substance here. If I could have just grasped it then, things would be much different now.
"If i say I am married, they won't talk to me," she said this looking straight in my eyes. There was no shift in eye pattern. I truly believe that she could not comprehend at that time the depth of what she was saying.
After baiting my hook, I decided to cast my line to see if the fish would really bite. "How many times have you spoken to this 'Mike'?" I asked this in as non-chalant way as possible. If she knew how loaded it was, she would never answer.
"He calls about twice a week. he is a nice guy. He is a business man in BKK. He comes from New York. he just came back to Thailand a couple months ago. He didn't see me selling anymore. A friend gave him my number." She said this all either as a test or just because it is so, and the culture barrier for behavior and being forward about the truth, and the reality just left my head spinning.

So in truth and in fact as it turns out this "mike" fellow had known her before I even met her. He used to pass her selling stahl sometimes in the evening. He also spoke perfect Thai. They had shared dinner a few times and felt a fondness for one another. She had shown me a picture and he was a handsome guy much more so than myself, and younger too. While we were getting married and stuff he had gone back to the states. Upon his return, they soon came into contact, and started seeing each other. From this vantage point you must be asking yourself, "why didn't this DunceCap see this or detect some bull larky was going on?" I say that is a fair question. Well for one I do not draw lines perfectly straight. Life in America taught me to look past failings to find the center. I am not the jealous type, the owner type, the clinger to sexual monogamy in the sense of actual human behavior. I am older than her. If she wants to have relations with someone else, that is what she wants. Your rules do not apply to my life, or my boundaries, nor my ability to love passed physical affections, however temporary they are. So, maybe in this respect we are different. She could have relations with others and I cared not. She would be following her path. She was still growing up. She has a lot more growing to do.
What crossed my boundary was the lying. The truth shall set you free. But lies will for ever trap you in their deceit. I can not live with a liar. There seemed to be no end to her lies. Much more that I have not said. Mike was one of the many in a long line. Arguing day and night about these things. Smashing cell phones and buying new ones. Gone for a couple days to return to the inquisition. Grilling constantly. It was madness on my part and on hers.

The big break came. I received a urgent call from back home. I jumped on an airplane and went back to the states. The urgency was my finances were in jeopardy. My ex-amer wife was trying to sieze my assets. Like I mentioned back in the beginning, I was independently wealthy. I had inherited large sums of money. She was trying to get her canine variety paws on them. I met with my lawyer and settled on a strategy that would work. I got my best friend to sit on a transit account that would be a deposit point for accounts payable. I would message him dates and places he would do the work and i would pay him. The rest of the money flew back to LOS with me in the form of a cashier's check. I triple barried the money. This took some doing but because it was such a large amount of money the Thai bankers I dealt with all hired interpreters who spoke very good English, I ended up footing the bill for all this but I was glad to have the money hidden away from the American Gov.
In my haste, I had forgotten her, and I was unaware of the bankers allowing wives and others access to accounts that should not have access.
In 3 months time I was penniless, they had fixed me good. Some of it was her doing, some fault lays with the bankers, the others involved I could not find and remain shadows on the elusive landscape. When I returned to the house in Lad prao it was chained, empty, and she was no where to be found.
Broke, unable to return to the states, I met a monk who changed my life.
The baby I am referring to that she had that is not mine was born this year. I found her, yes I did

The Eastern sun shines at my Western door......

Standing in the hotel lobby yanking credit cards out of my wallet. frozen, frozen, frozen....that she thing in america was up to her old tricks. I phoned my old friend and had him wire me some cash. I found a hotel near the main branch of the bank where my money used to be. The next day I went in and demanded they give me an accouting of all the transactions regarding my accounts. After all the translating and cold glasses of water they brought me, i was led to a small room in the back. they set me down at a table and a young man came in speaking in perfect English.
"Hi, Mr. DunceCap, i have here a list of all your transaction since your first deposit," he sat down across from me and slid a packet of papers over to me.
I said, "thanks," and looked at the papers. My initial deposit, a few transfers to the US, then her name came up, and up, and up. Each time a bigger number until it was all gone. "Look here," I said, looking him right in the eye. "This can't just happen. Didn't you think something was fishy when she was taking it all out?" My voice was rising, despite my wanting to remain calm.
"She has full access to this account. If she wants to take it all out, that is her doing. We just keep the money safe," he said this smartly.
And smart it did. "No!" I started shouting stuff about crooked conspiracy theories and seeing the stupid farang coming. They called the police. I was still in that room shouting at anyone who dared enter when they came and escorted me outside. I looked quite the spectacle when i got outside. All the people were staring and I just continued on giving them my opinion of Thai banks. Fear of being taken to jail did start to set in as the police didn't leave but stayed on to watch the crazy farang. I marched down the sidewalk, and for the first time since I had been in Thailand, people moved out of my way as I approached giving me a free stroll.
I walked until a new plan formed in my head. The barried triple account structure I had set up should lead to the other culprits. I just couldn't believe she was smart enough to pull this off alone. Waving down a taxi I pulled out my phone to check the numbers I had stored on it. The people she had been calling. If I was smart enough, I could find away to track them down. But just as the taxi pulled over, the phone slipped out of my hand. I watched as it slid under the tire. There was a popping sound and a crunch. I yelled at the driver to pull forward. He didn't understand what happened, so yelled something back in Thai and sped away. My phone lay there shattered. I stepped off the curb to get it, but didn't look first. The next thing I know I'm knee deep in the front of a motorcycle. Which knocks me down. The bike goes down as well. The driver slides along the curb. I land on my ass and skid backwards. Again there is a crowd of people come to look at the Farang. Someone helps me up. I am in a little bit of a shock. The driver gets up cussing something fierce, and starts walking towards me. People step back. I realise what he wants but a second too late as he pops me one on the chin. Really dazed now, but sensing he may try it again, I raise my hands in self defense. Wrong move! Left right left, and I'm on the ground again. They pull him away, and i get up and run off. I ran oh boy did i run. At first I ran wildly, just from the adrenaline, I knocked over a few people in my attempt to get away. Others, not seeing anything else, just a farang pushing Thai people gave chase. So this frenzied mass of people go running down the street. Me for my life, them, who knows really, just get the farang!
They didn't catch me. but I figured the whole police force was looking for me. I made it back to the house in Lad Prao. The gate was still chained, so I scaled the wall. My pants got caught on the top and i went for a tumble. This time I landed hard on my knee. I couldn't get up. there were shooting pains up my leg. I was sure the knee was broke. I just lay there. screw it! screw them! screw thailand! I was contemplating all these profound thoughts as the sun slowly went down.
Monks come out in the morning........

Fcuk me! thought I had problems as I don't know what TV to buy!

And your cut and paste point is??

that cut & pastes are fokin boring...

if one wants to read it...it's available over there...

this cdplaying cvnt cross-posts over numerous forums and it gets on the goat after a while...
time to mention it...

And??????

Look post the rest please

Quote:

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Originally Posted by klongmaster

if one wants to read it...it's available over there...

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I'm not a member over there Klongy , and I don't intend to become one.
I find Pat's story interesting and I want to read more of it.

Moved to someplace where they care...

Quote:

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Originally Posted by klongmaster

that cut & pastes are fokin boring...

if one wants to read it...it's available over there...

this cdplaying cvnt cross-posts over numerous forums and it gets on the goat after a while...
time to mention it...

---

So fucking what klongy. I don't read ajarn so shut the fuck up.

You're a right whiny cnut aren't you?

I thoroughly enjoyed Dunce Cap's story. Why do you think I would be jealous of his story? He went into great detail and set the scene brilliantly with his writing, why create a rift by saying his one is better? Maybe it is, I think it is because my own story I have relived a thousand times.

Like to see you write something worth reading, other than the fact that I play CDs (I do, well done) and I'm a cvunt (what's one of those?)

Lighten up or I'll kick you into the klong.

So there we were, at Brent Cross shopping centre once again to purchase an industrial pack of mama noodles and pick up some cut price phone cards from the Chinese supermarket so she could continue with her moonlight mission of completely depriving me of any shuteye.

Anthony was waiting for us in the car park. It was the August bank holiday, and he had a day off, the reason why he was happily driving me and my wife back and forth to Brent Cross was that I had agreed to attend the last day of the Notting Hill carnival that evening, much to my wife's not knowing. I honestly couldn't give a shit either way, hell, she could even come with us and get seduced by a bajan steel drum player for all I cared. She had now become a thorn in my side, and was enjoying it.

I was constantly tired from late nights and getting out of bed 'when I could still roll over for another two hours'. It was taking its toll and one of my agents complained that I looked so miserable whilst playing on stage one night that she was considering placing me at the side of the stage behind a curtain at the following months event. I agreed to this.

Another work friend of mine said that I now posessed a permanent 'furrowed brow' and that he hadn't seen me smile since 1998. Thanks!

"So whats goin on later Pat are we bussin' down carnival or what?"

"Yeah course man, anyone else coming?"

My wife caught wind of this just like I thought she would "Where you go tonight? You not stay home and save money?"

"I want to have some fun with friends tonight, it's bank holiday and I'm not staying at home on a night off, I'll need some money too"

"How mutt?"

"Give me 60 quid"

"What? no way paeng mak mak, I give you 20" She sarcastically said

"F*cking hell it's my cash, if I want 60 give me 60" I raised my voice, Anthony winked at me.

"But this money for us to have business..huh..huh" She started her fake sobbing, tears came down her cheeks at the drop of a hat, she was great at that.
Same as when I had to raise my voice at Heathrow airport after she tried to get out of our agreement that I have 1000 Pounds for our ten day trip to Bangkok. She tried to palm me off with 400 that day and I vowed she'd never pull a fast one again.

Many people think or assume that raining ones voice is a step towards being violent, but I disagree. There the physical movement of bringing yourself to hit somebody that I find very difficult. For some it's easy, for some it's easy after a few drinks, I can't either way.

"Money for business bla bla bla" I said under my breath. Even Anthony sighed when he heard that.

I found that I was constantly trying to find a way out of this trap of a marriage, I knew it would be a big bombshell to drop and had to choose the correct time . It had to coincide with all the staff at the restaurant knowing about my situation, and 'something' happening to ignite it. But what?

The restaurant was easy work really, the deputy manager, Pablo, a Spaniard was great, he'd managed restaurants in Spain and Gran Canaria, and was the stereotypical Spanish waiter who was good with most customers and as a bonus was great at mixing the cocktails. I was great at the financial side of the restaurant, but not much else. Upsetting customers I was good at I suppose.

The waiting staff were a mixed bunch, which we did deliberately. A Thai restaurant with a relaxed setting. No Thai music and regular staff, but fabulous food. With relaxing music too. No wailing Isarn or crappy traditional music.

I finally had to tell my allies at the restaurant of my charade which they told me later on that they had suspected all along, that my 'wife' didn't really love me, but loved my ability for her to recieve indefinite leave to remain via my marriage. I had blacked out that last sentence deliberately from my mind for fears of believing it but it was slowly coming to light.

Anthony was fully aware of it and he now the first person to know when I had some new evidence of her activities. Funny thing was though, she didn't appear to be in contact with another man, there wasn't that air of dread that you feel when a loved one is going with another person. So that's why i was able to keep my head above water. My friends were vitally important to me. I was always miserable, stoned, drunk and depressed when alone at home in the living room at night.

It was time to increase the odds and I announced that I would be keeping all my DJ salary but she still got my restaurant money to pay the bills. She tried to use the Thai business excuse but she knew that I knew it was wearing thin.

When ever we spoke to eachother on the phone our conversations religiously ended with "Love you" wherever we were but up to about 6 months ago I'd changed this into a mumbled "lubb ooh" from the side of my mouth whenever I was in public or at the restaurant. It was a tiresome exercise that was getting so cliched it was almost ridiculous. Other couples were happy under more extreme circumstances so why hadn't ours worked?

I scratched my head and came up with one reason: She's Thai, and they have this ridiculous and illusioned outlook on the world, even worse when they get rich and leave the land of snides, they have virtues however and these outweighed the negatives. Never try and change a Thai though, it's nigh on impossible. that was my philosophy almost 7 years ago, and it's remained unchanged.

Anthony was having a road rage incident meanwhile when a lady driver in front didn't race off the second the green light showed and he beeped his horn furiously saying

"Hurry up yer damned woman, you can't drive, you should be at home cookin ya stupid bitch"

She leaned out and turned round, "At least I drive a car you prick" she retorted.

She had a point, Anthony was still driving an Italian plated Renault 19, over seven years old, and a left hand drive. It was his ex-wifes car.

"You need to get a new car man" I advised him

"Oh thanks man, wanna give me the loan clever?"

I looked at my wife in the mirror sitting in the back seat and said "Well that may be sooner than you think"

The carnival was pretty unspectacular, I stayed sober much to the temptation of drinking, there was the stereotypical policeman grooving to some reggae while a young singer called Craig David's voice boomed out of almost every two-step stage. Anthony did the rounds, recognising door staff from various west end clubs, shaking hands then chilling out with his old friend who was a DJ at Choice FM, a black music station based in London.

Walked into my flat at midnight and was greeted with the lights full on and my wife packing her bags. I was all excited inside.

She was moving most of her stuff to a friends and gearing herself up so she could leave completely in one go I worked out, though I knew, she thought I was too stupid to work that out so I left it at that. Playing stupid was proving useful, it made me find out that she was almost just as dumb.

I went to the front room and whacked the tv on, cracked a beer from the fridge, then kicked the living room door shut after hearing the familiar beeps of the phone digits as she was beginning to dial.

What a life I'm living, its all so false but at least deep down I'm winning in a way, all who think I'm stupid, ie the Thai restaurant staff and my wife, know f*ck all about what I can leave this relationship with, because there is nothing she can take. The furniture? Wouldn't be worth it. The carpets are expensive, but I can't imagine that. The kitchen stuff? Who cares, I never do much more that boil eggs in there anyway and feed the cat. The cat? No they hate one another. The cat often tries to be humane towards my wife, but my wife being Thai, typically doesn't have that 'depth' required to feel love.

Anthony came round unexpectedly, cursing the fact he'd run out of grass.

"I got that gals phone number you know" He beamed

"What girl's that?" I was baffled, I hadn't seen him talk to any girls tonight, just touch fists with his homies all evening.

"At Brent Cross, the one at the Yakult tasting booth"

I vaguely remembered, but was standing with my wife at the time, doing my best not to acknowledge Anthony playfully toying with a blond girl's emotions whilst easily obtaining her phone number. The reason being that I always wanted my wife to be as far removed from anything sexual as possible, it was my own personal obsession, don't know why, probably a legacy of when I did indeed love her, to stop her getting or starting to get any ideas about loving an alternative person than me. Looking back, what a ridiculous and stupid way to go.

"She's coming to dinner next friday, I'm cooking"

"You lucky bastard" I was jealous

"Well once she tries black, there'll be no turning back" He said whilst licking the gum of his rizla to stick his joint together

"And" he continued, "She's got a nice friend she said she'll bring to meet you"

"So that's why you came round tonight" I laughed

I had another, new game I played now. The phone plug was located in the living room and each time I got up to visit the toilet I pulled it out, cutting my wife off in mid-sentence in the bedroom next door.

To be continued, again.

You could pay a psychologist to get this off your chest you know......

It's almost all off, don't wanna bore the pants off the TD members.

I was thinking of putting this lot into the famous threads section, I thought it was quite good.

^^ If you do, wait til I put all four together and un-edit to be a more comfortable but longer, more complete read.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by DJ Pat

She's Thai, and they have this ridiculous and illusioned outlook on the world, even worse when they get rich and leave the land of snides, they have virtues however and these outweighed the negatives. Never try and change a Thai though, it's nigh on impossible. that was my philosophy almost 7 years ago, and it's remained unchanged.

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So why did you come to thailand if its full of a people you believe are like this ?

you malign all the backpackers , but somehow I think they have a better chance of learning from their travels then you with a close minded attitude such as the one you have expressed above.

and I thought it was mainly americans who needed trick cyclists.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by dirtydog

I was thinking of putting this lot into the famous threads section, I thought it was quite good.

---

They're all a good read.
You ain't boring me, Pat...;)

As Chas and Dave said, there ain't no pleasin' you.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by baldrick

So why did you come to thailand if its full of a people you believe are like this ?

---

To come back to the warm bosom of his own people.

Oh I read part 1 but I think I missed part 2. I love how you write this story - and see a lot of my old fucked up relationship in it. How, even though I hated it and was unhappy, always secretly looking for an excuse to get out I still did things to protect it. You are very perceptive in the way you analyse emotions / motivations - and don't distance yourself with a facade of bravado; sometimes almost painfully honest. Thanks again for sharing.

Great story - look for last bits. Great material for tele show!!

Stll trying to piece together a last part AND put all of them together to be put in the famous threads section....

You may need to re-read part 2 for a recap as this continues exactly where it left off.

"No offence Anthony but I'm not lookin for anything with this gal, I'm just tagging along to keep you company, and as I am doing you this favour, a few drinks thrown in my direction would be appreciated"

"Ya man, you leave dat to me, mate" He said in a sarcastic cockney accent.

"Where we goin' anyway? I aint struggling to hear myself think in no R'n'b club you know, my mate is a disc jockey at the Cheers bar in Piccadilly"

"Pat, I don't drive a Ford Capri anymore you know, my name ain't Dave and Tracey ain't sitting next to me" Anthony was sarcastic again

"And these two aren't dancing round handbags either, here they come" I could see the two girls from the shopping centre approach the front door through the living room window.
"So Cheers Bar it is then, with DJ Mike and Pat on the decks" I made the cliched DJ scratching motion with my hand to emphasis my point.

"Ok but the second I hear any boyband shit on that dancefloor I'm leaving" Anthony said.

"Ok, ok, you're style will not be cramped whatsoever, now are you ready?"

"Yes"

"Then fucking smile, the door's gonna go any second" And on cue, the doorbell rang.

I opened the door to be very pleasantly surprised, two girls of Eastern European persuasion stood there, around 22-24 years old, pretty, slim and two very beaming smiles.

"Is Anthony in? You are Plastic?" "Patrick" I corrected her, "and you?"

"Edyta, and this is Anna, my friend"

As I was not sure which was 'mine' I decided to show them into the front room where Anthony was making some drinks.

"So whats brewin' bro?" I said as I led the girls in and sat them down. I went over and said quietly out the side of my mouth, "which is mine?" Anthony looked at me.

"Yours? Whayya mean yours?, anyone you want man, I ain't fussed at all"

"But I thought you chatted the blonde one up, Edyta"
"Ok you take Anna then"

"Take?" I gave him a funny look, grabbed a drink, swung round and promptly knocked the drink to the floor with my clumsiness.
"Shit, what a fool" I said

"Get a tissue" Anna said and swifly went to the kitchen to get a cloth

"Show me an english girl who would do that" Anthony slyly said to me

"Do what?"

"Clean this mess up without no hesitaion bro, these Eastern bloc gals are trained up man" he clapped his hands together loudly.

We arrived at the Cheers bar, a typical mainstream club that played all the mainstream pop and dance music. The two DJs I was pretty familiar with and had worked with. Mike Russo was a busy travelling DJ who played just about everywhere except the radio, and Pat (Sharp) was already an established radio star in London and the UK, on both radio and TV. they gave us the obligatory shouts on the mic and we got fairly drunk and had fun.
After a while I slumped down tired and Edyta handed me a drink, a Long Island ice tea. "Cheers" I said and nodded toward the replica Cheers bar they had installed nearby.

Anthony wandered over and knocked back a gin and tonic. "Bro' it's time to get back to mine for smokin and a late one, you joinin'?"

"Sure, what about you?" I said looking at the girls

As we pulled up outside our block I noticed that my front room light was on and the TV was flashing. That was odd for this time of night. I didn't care anyway, I thought.

The night went pretty ok, Edyta was going to spend the night at Anthonys, and after a few drinks I made my excuses and left.

I hadn't felt one thing for Anna at all, and we'd just smiled at eachother for most of the night, neither of us making that extra step. I honestly could not be bothered.

I went into my front room to find my wife watching our wedding video with tears rolling down her cheeks. I carried on into the kitchen and there was a pizza on the side. "For you" my wife shouted.

My wife has bought me a pizza? Whats the deal here?

Then I saw her bag. There was a brochure for a satellite TV system that could recieve Thai channels, so it said. As far as I was aware this was not possible. The price? Over 1000 British pounds sterling, or around $1800 US. Hmmm.

The watching of the wedding tape, the tears, the pizza, the brochure, she'll try and seduce me next, then guess what?

I refused the pizza, told her i was tired and went and had a bath.

Afterwards I rolled a spliff and sat on the sofa next to her smoking it, deliberately so she would smell the smoke. I then used the remote to whack off the damned wedding and changed it to some nationwide football show on TV. I turned up the volume, whacked off the lights, grabbed a beer and slammed my feet up on the coffee table loudly.

"Huh" she said as she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Ten minutes later I heard her on the phone to Thailand as usual, this time as she spoke she seemed to be choking back tears.

The following day at the restaurant she was telling all the Thai staff that I smoked ganja and that I was drinking most nights. She was right, but a man has his dark corners doesn't he? They were all talking like I had a serious affliction, and my wife asked me in front of everyone if I would like to go into "hospitan" (her pronounciation). "If you wanna pay for it, then yes, but I'm sure I'll be the one paying, and you'll just be the one getting my money out of your purse" I said very sarcastically, and stormed outside for a cigarette.

My mate Dieo laughed out loudly and my wife glared at him. He instantly went back to a straight face. She was that kind of person. I hated that. She was able to do that at first but I was wiser and wiser to her shit by the day.

Then Magda, my co-worker took me to one side and said “Why does your wife be so superficial, she has no personality of her own at all, she’s a soulless shell of a person that just screams at you Pat, you deserve better than that bitch, sorry to be honest”

Mag, another Polish girl and a Bridget Jones lookalike, also intervened "She's a horrible girl, you know she upset Jeab over something really pathetic" Jeab was one of the Thai waiteresses."It's written all over your face Patrick, you've been a fool to yourself"

Pablo, the deputy manager also interjected “Pat we know your dilemma man, we can all be together in this we are your friends, we should all talk, remember that”

I was touched for real. Not only did I only know these people for a matter of months to two years but they must have been watching, observing, discussing as well as taking notes for almost two years.

It made me feel like I now had a team. I could no longer be the polite smiling guy who was married to a friend of the Thai kitchen staff. I could no longer be the guy who wouldn’t divulge much about his private life or talk much about well, anything at all.

I must have appeared as an arrogant know it all **** to these staff and all along they were feeling my pain, well, in a way. I wouldn’t let them in to my world at all, I could see that Pablo wanted to talk about girls and the like but I was that uppity already married type who didn’t need that any more.

Then there was Patrick, the guy from New Zealand studying a TEFL certificate to work in China was a great guy too, but I wouldn’t allow them to get close to me. Was it because I feared they would find out my fraudulent existence? Or suss it out? Or had they already? It seemed so.

It was decided without my knowledge that our flat was to be the venue for one of the Thai kitchen staff’s birthday party. I had no say in the matter and I never bothered to invite any friends of my own round either.

Problem was I did not want the Thai staff to know that I smoked ganja nor that our marriage was in question. And, what was she going to do? Spend the night in the bedroom chatting on the phone while they partied in the front room? I sure wasn’t in the mood to host the conversation.

Maybe I could duck out to Anthony’s place? He was out.

I ended up setting up a TV and video in the bedroom and staying in there with the cat, popping into the living room, side stepping all the Thais sat on the floor playing cards to grab the odd chicken drumstick or beer. One of my Thai friends, Dieo, watched a load of fights with me, he was a local boxer who had attended school in Kent, and whose Thai family in Bangkok were big in architecture, or did I mis-hear that as agriculture?

The night went ok with my wifes voice as always being the loudest out of the whole room, a horrible, cackling screeching howl at times. One virtue of hosting these kind of parties was that for days after I could invite Anthony and his ‘homies’ over and tell them how good a cook I was, as we had stacks of food left over, fish, chicken, crabs, prawns, oysters, big bowls of fried rice, noodles, the whole lot lasted for days on end.

“Thailand must be like Jamaica” Anthony very cleverly announced one afternoon in front of his brother Michael and friend Erroll.

“I mean the beaches and shit, the trees and coconuts, the people are almost black, Tiger Woods is Filipino right?”

“Thai, his mother is Thai right?” I wasn’t sure as I was trying to be factual.

“Pat I would never touch your countries women, no offence” said Michael “I heard all kinds of shit about Thai bitches, all that darts and shit” He was almost serious.

.“I wouldn’t touch any Jamaican girls with a barge pole either if you wanna be like that, in fact I never wanna taste pink pussy either mate” I retaliated

“Stop reading The Sun man” Errol chipped in.

“Wanna know what the world thinks of Engliah gal?, Boy they are loose man, even the waiters in Turkey fuck them in the restaurant bogs”

"Oh piss off with that bollocks" Anthony shouted from the kitchen

“You lot wanna chill with that shit, I heard worse about Tenerife” Michael added “Tener-grief more like” he added.

I was curious. "So what about you black folks, who runs things regarding the purse strings and all that?"

Anthony wanted to answer but Michael jumped in first "You ain't had no black woman for years my brother, you been cotchin' (slang for staying) with that Mafioso bitch for the last four years", referring to his long term Italian girlfriend.

"And, you wanna watch out I ain't be callin' you no Uncle Tom, white bitch lover" Michael always got at his younger brother over this.

"Hey my girl ain't be lookin like no Macy Gray mampee ass overweight bitch" Anthony countered

"Who? Who's gal looks like Macy? Mine? Your saying my girl wears them glasses and donkey jacket?, hey at least I'm loyal to my sisters, I'm not the one goin on like the black pimp" Michael said with scorn.

Cut it out man you sound like Chris Rock having an argument with himself in the mirror" Erroll joked.

It was these kinds of days that I enjoyed and really hated them being ruined by my wife who would turn the air sour simply by just coming home. It was like, she would arrive home and a procession of black men would leave. Bi-curious skeptics would have a field day.

Procession of black men you say?

You may well be curious, well it goes back to my childhood where the white kids at school, this was the late 1970s remember, would be fascanated by where I came from. I was a bit Chinese, they thought, so they called me a Chinese. Nobody had heard of Thailand, especially white kids in north London in the '70s. The black kids still got a bit of grief, and during playtime when everyone wanted to play football together, the white kids thought of a black vs. whites format.

After much squabbling I played for the 'black' team and most of my early school friends were the local black kids. Ditto my older sister, she hung with their older sisters two years above. Growing up was also interesting on a council estate, but that is not why you are reading this.

Did my wife never realize that she could change the atmosphere in one stroke? She would walk in to the flat and not acknowledge anybody, really arrogant it seemed. At first my friends were a bit taken aback but then when I told them the current situation they would make conversation with her like:

"So a hard day cookin'?" Anthony joked to her another time, when she was looking really stern and miserable.

She replied "Ya, many cutomer order gaeng kiaow wan gai, fallung crazy green curry a lot, many people come today want go to a gogo in Bangkok, they tell staff about Patpong" and she giggled falsely.

I glared at her in disapproval, knowing she was just being a sarcastic cow.

"What's Patpong?" Anthony was puzzled and looked at me. I shrugged and nodded to my wife, "tell him" I said.

"Patpong where falang touriss go for a shopping and eat Thai food and see gatoy show and gogo bar hahaha"

"What?" he was puzzled and raised his eyebrows at me

"Never mind" I sighed and showed Anthony out.

One day one of my colleagues, the pessimistic Thai girl (who I loved for her openness), Yaow, told me that she had overheard my wife on the phone to someone about me,and told me later on that she suspected that my 'wife' didn't love me, but loved me for my ability to get her " indefinite leave to remain" from the British Government via our marriage and the fact that I was a British national.

I had blacked out the thought of her and the visa thing deliberately from my mind for fears of believing it but it was inevitably coming to light. Yaow was miserable, but right. I thanked her and told her to keep me posted on any other developments.

And she did.

To be continued again.

great first few lines, I'll read the rest of it next time i get a week off work

Quote:

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Originally Posted by DJ Pat

ou may well be curious, well it goes back to my childhood where the white kids at school, this was the late 1970s remember, would be fascanated by where I came from. I was a bit Chinese, they thought, so they called me a Chinese. Nobody had heard of Thailand, especially white kids in north London in the '70s. The black kids still got a bit of grief, and during playtime when everyone wanted to play football together, the white kids thought of a black vs. whites format. After much squabbling I played for the 'black' team and most of my early school friends were the local black kids. Ditto my older sister, she hung with their older sisters two years above. Growing up was also interesting on a council estate, but that is not why you are reading this.

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I was wonderin' why you is a bit gangsta!

no need!!!!

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Originally Posted by Marmite the Dog

Quote:

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Originally Posted by DJ Pat

ou may well be curious, well it goes back to my childhood where the white kids at school, this was the late 1970s remember, would be fascanated by where I came from. I was a bit Chinese, they thought, so they called me a Chinese. Nobody had heard of Thailand, especially white kids in north London in the '70s. The black kids still got a bit of grief, and during playtime when everyone wanted to play football together, the white kids thought of a black vs. whites format. After much squabbling I played for the 'black' team and most of my early school friends were the local black kids. Ditto my older sister, she hung with their older sisters two years above. Growing up was also interesting on a council estate, but that is not why you are reading this.

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I was wonderin' why you is a bit gangsta!

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Well, I'm ashamed to say that said estate is now the scene of pitched battles between gangs of chavs, male and female.

You don't think you just bored her so much Pat that she decided to be a complete bitch to you? Just a thought you know.

^^Quite possibly

im sure that ewe is welsh!!

Welsh? Me? Sorry but I'm not.

"So why do you want to go back to Pattaya?" I was asked for the umpteenth time.

"I just wanna get the place and all that stuff out of my system so to speak" I replied

"How? You mean two weeks of relentless whoring? You make my brother look like a priest man " Anthony was getting too quizical for my liking

"Why don't you join me and find out then" I said, knowing that he was as broke as a tramps string vest.

"I could apply for a loan" he replied optimistically

"Don't even go there, stop being a hopeless optimist" I said as I was leaving his flat.

"Bring me back some rizla will ya?"

"Who says I'm coming back here?"

"You're locked out you fool"

He was right. I was locked out of my own flat by a girl who wasn't even my wife any more but still had the imaginary illusion that she was pulling the strings.

I had bought an Amstrad e-mailing machine because I couldn't afford a computer (and had no idea how to use one) and I was getting requests from work clients to be available more and more often during the day to recieve documents and other items via email, so the Amstrad contraption was an ideal compromise.

And bloody contraption it was. You couldn't recieve rich text documents on it and it had a green screen. I had to hope clients would send me plain text format, because as far as they knew, I had a pc. Once I had to 'wing it' at a meeting and make out I had read all recieved documents when I hadn't read one word, as all rich text at my end came out as mumbo jumbo, like when you press all the keys at the same time on a keyboard. needless to say I didn't get that contract with that client.

Thank Christ though. They were corporate solicitors, one of the most miserable bunch of people to play disco music to.

The (ex) wife assumed the e-mailer was so I could "Keep touch with a-go-go girl in Thailand", and as a 'punishment' she had taken my keys out of my jeans during the night as I was asleep in the living room. Just so I couldn't use the thing. Why the hell did she bloody care any more? I was intruiged.

I called her to ask how the bloody hell I was going to feed the cat and she gave me one of her cackling, "knowing-that-she-had-fucked-me-over" laughs so I hung up on her and went to Anthony's place. Fucking bitch was getting tiresome.

"I'll come back out with you so you don't forget the rizla" Anthony said sarcastically.

"I could borrow the cash off my brother you know, he owes me"

"Why don't you then and I'll be going to Mr.Sunil's office on wednesday to enquire about fares" I replied, knowing for sure that I'd be travelling alone.

"Ok I'll get it by tuesday, ok?" He sounded alarmingly sure.

We bought some beer and went back to his. He showed me some Latvian porn he'd obtained from his brother and one scene had a very close up view of a man whose penis was almost 14 inches long. He was standing a foot away from a woman but could still penetrate her.

"You know, I used to be able to wank over a good porno when I was younger but this shit's extreme porn" I whined, "everythings gone OTT nowadays" Anthony said, "most gals I get up here are into anal and demand it" He was gloating now.

"Shut up for fucks sake, I'm going home" I slammed the door behind me and went and home to ring my own doorbell. "it's horrible standing here at my door" I thought, "no wonder no **** come to visit...apart from my dad"

I sat up that night watching old fight videos, over and over again. I was stoned.

That's what smoking did to me, and that's how life was becoming. I wanted out of it but the other option is only death. I don't suppose they have Amstrad E-mailer machines in hell, but little did I know..........

I had to get to Pattaya so I could finally get one over on a girl. To do what my wife thought I'd already done anyway. May as well do it then. Any way, any how, I just had to do it, just fuck someone's life up in return for someone fucking up mine, almost, but I was selfish.
Terrible thought really, that I'd want to hurt an innocent person for something they had no idea about but that's how I felt, and the first thing I had to do was buy an air ticket.

"We got 455 via Frankfurt on Lufthansa" said my travel agent scratching his unshaven chin.
"Come on you can do better than that" I sighed

"Or 477 via Amman but it's an overnight stop, 14 hours, but it includes the hotel and all meals etc on Royal Jordanian" he continued.

"Hang on, I'll just check some details on that"

He made the call and then turned to me smiling.

"Safir Hotel, it's a decent place they say" He said

In normal circumstances I would relish an extra break in the middle east but staying in Amman for one night would only frustrate me. I wanted to get to Thailand as quick as I could and I could picture myself pacing up and down the hotel room in Amman or propping up the bar til 5am telling my entire life story to a stranger at the bar.

As it worked out, I would be telling my life story once again to Anthony at that bar. He called me to tell my the 'good' news.

"Ok bro I got two grand cash in my hand right now blood"

"You sure"

"Sure as the bear shits in the forest blood"

"Ok I hope you like the food"

"I could eat crispy duck and pancakes all day man"

"So could I but we ain't goi' to Hong Kong....yet, talk to you in about an hour when I get back"

I turned back to the travel agent..

"Ok I'll take that flight, two tickets now..but what's the arrangement for the return leg?"

"Three hours in Amman, enough time to stock up on cheap fags and booze to sell to your mates" He laughed, it was strange to hear that sentence in an Indian accent, but Mr. Sunil was always a star, he was used to me barging into his pokey little office in Denmark Street and asking to fly to Bangkok that afternoon, or the next day, and he always came up with a ticket. If he didn't then he knew a place that did.

It saved me dealing with rip off joints like Airline Centre and Benz travel who offered cheap tickets but with lists of conditions a mile long. And extra taxes.

Mr Sunil's quotes were the prices. You didn't need to ask if it included tax or had sugar on top.

I got back to Anthony's place. The wife wasn't due home until midnight so I had four hours to kill at Anthonys as his mates came and went at regular intervals. They all had been filled in on what I was planning and they coined the patois phrase "Blood clot pussy head" because they thought it had taken over my life. In a way it had but I wasn't ready to believe it. Yet.

"We're going on tuesday afternoon" I announced to his mates "Stick that in yer pipe and smoke it..anyone else wanna join us on our honeymoon?"

"You wanna slow down with that gay shit, I notice that you ran out last night when I put that porno on, whats wrong you play fr the pink team now?"
Anthony was kidding then slapped me on the back

"I gotcha back haven't I...bring on them Singapore bitches, we're going to Pattaya"

"Thai bitches" Erroll corrected him. "Thai, as in Thailand you black fool, don't be coming back with any STD's ok?, if you do then you've broken the negro players code of pussy, understand?"

We arrived at Heathrow early to allow extra time for the so-called 'extra security' clearances that were in place. Apart from being asked if I was carrying matches or lighter fluid, everything was just as it normally was. The flight to Amman was a pretty smooth 6 hours and the plane was half empty since many had refused to fly with middle eastern airlines, never mind fly to the middle east itself.

We touched down in Amman. It was hot, bright and I was still hungover from hours earlier where myself and Anthony had consumed two bottles of Italian red wine that I'd given him for Christmas the year before.

I felt hazy and nauseous, and I flopped on to my bed as soon as I went to my rather small but very comfortable room at the Safir hotel.

I woke up a few minutes later and realised I'd been asleep almost seven hours and had missed both lunch and afternoon tea. I wouldn't normally give a damn but because it was all paid for in advance by the airline, there were set times and places that you were fed.
So any grub I had now would have to be paid for. Damn.

Unlike being put up when DJ-ing somewhere exotic, you certainly didn't have freedom of both menu and room service.

Anthony was eating a huge plate of spaghetti in the lobby and he'd just woken up about an hour earlier but was on his fourth pina colada.

"I could live here and be an arab you know" he said sensibly.

"Sure you could, I'm going to try the local cuisine, you got fifty quid til later?"

The bar was populated by a few Brits on their way to Bangkok who were furious that they had to 'endure' a long stopover en route to their Pattayan paradise. Two had paid over 600 pounds with a commercial travel agent in Stockport and were vowing never to use them again.

If only they trusted Indian men down side streets, they'd have saved as much as I did, I thought smugly

We touched down in Bangkok and headed straight for the 'limo' to take us to Pattaya.

Anthony was convinced of all the horror stories he'd heard on BBC's 'holidays from hell' show and was literally counting his bags.

"What did you bring? A spare pair of shoes for all eleven players?"

"Gotta be prepared man, preparation is the name of the game, if I lose one bag then at least I have full sets of clothes and shoes in each bag, I'll always be fully clothed"

"That's only on budget airlines that get you to Lanzarote for a tenner" I assured him

"They are garunteed to steal your luggage in return" I laughed as we pulled up at View Talay condos.

"This is nice, real living man, I'll be in the pool in twenty minutes, fancy some food?"

"You're keen, yeah order me a club sandwich, don't let the Germans take my sunlounger, whatever you do"

"British bastard" Anthony said as the lift door slid shut.

The first night I was showing Anthony the sights of Pattaya, did the 'playing it safe' act of eating at Sizzlers and then headed down Walking Street where Anthony's black Jamaican man style of walking was getting him attention from a lot of girls.

Well that's what he thought it was anyway.

I didn't really want to spoil his illusion by telling him that we were merely just 'pawns in the game'.

We ended up at a bar called "best corner" on and I caught the eye of a chick I immedietly wanted to have sexual relations with. An upstairs room was booked and when I returned downstairs I saw that Anthony had bought five girls all a meal from the adjoining restaurant and had bar-fined them all. He sat laening back in a sofa type chair with his arms stretched across the back like some kind of mafia figure. It was an amusing scene, I must say.

The girl I had bar-fined wasn't really that enthusiastic about anything at all and I had already made the mistake of deciding that she was going to be my 'girlfriend' for my holiday. I asked if she wanted to come shopping - just her and me - I thought these girls jumped at that kind of thing - She flatly refused, quite rudely too. I was so sure these girls waited for nice guys like me to come along rather than the usual drunken fat slobs with saliva dripping out of their mouths.

The fact was, those drunken fat slobs with spit dripping down their chins flashed large amounts of cash, whereas the likes of me did not.

Still, I thought I was in with a shout.

The girl agreed to stay with me and told me she'd be at the salon until 11pm then come to my place. I was so happy I went back to the room and took a shower and sat on the balcony, waiting to see the motorbike carrying her pull in. It was 11pm.

Anthony had decided to enjoy the facilities of the bar brfore going back to his place and the last I saw had bought seven B-52 cocktails. He was having a blast.

"Why you being so uptight bro?"

"Me? Uptight? how?"

"Relax man, it's been what? Nine hours since we landed and you're already made an arrangement with one hoe? I thought you were lettin loose not re-doing the wedding vows"

"I'm just scared I won't meet a better girl than that so why not book her now?" I was being insecure, he was right.

"I'm going back to wait for her" I said as I left to go back to view talay.

So, as I sat there on the balcony, it was now 12.30am, still no show from her, I had taken a piss six times due to nerves and was chainsmoking to pass the time. I coughed up a lump of dark green phlegm and spat it over the edge.

Now it was 2am and I was hungry. I could slip downstairs and grab some food but what if she turns up? I can't chance it. Where the hell is she anyway? Them salons take ages I know, maybe she's having her hair straightened or something.

She turned up at 3.15am, pissed and with a friend who was out of it on something.

I tried to kiss her when she entered the room but she pused me to one side and headed for the fridge. "Got any whisky?" she slurred

"Sure, up there, why you late then?"

"My friend sick with boyfren so I stay with her take care"

"Who's your friend?"

"This is Lek"

"Hi, Lek pleased to meet you" I held out my hand and she lurched forward to shake it and almost fell over.

"Lek boyfren Craig David"

"Really? he came to Pattaya?"

"Yeah he come bar and dance with all girl"

"Wow, you know he's english same as me?" I was trying to get on some kind of level with this girl but she either wasn't having it, or just didn't get it.

Lek stood up and offered to leave so as we could "make love" and my girl offered to go with her to get a bike and said she'd be back in ten minutes.

I fell asleep after they left and had given up on the evening being any kind of success.

I was woken at 6am by a loud knocking at the door. I looked through the peephole to see my girl standing there sticking her middle finger up to the peephole. 'cheeky' I chuckled to myself.

She barged in and put the TV on then switched on the stereo and put Blue's "All Rise" on at loud volume. She sat up on the bed and gave me a horrible scowl as if to say 'and what? you think I'm so easy?'

I hated her but was hooked. But I wanted to get back to sleep or better still get my leg over. I asked her and she laughed at me and called her friend on the phone. She spoke some kind of Cambodian dialect and then said that Lek was coming over.

Over my dead body was she. I'd had enough all of a sudden.

"Tell you what, both of you meet downstairs and fuck off, here's two thousand baht" She took the money and swiftly left shouting "fucking ****" as she ran down the hall.

Who was the mug here?

The next day at midday I saw Anthony at the pool with two pretty girls I remembered seeing at the bar.

"Had a great night of per-narni?" (patois slang for "pussy") He asked me grinning broadly.

"Sure I did, great" I said, trying to muster up a grin

"I'm takin' these gals to the beach for a swim on one of them banana boats then back to their bar because I gotta fly to Hong Kong later tonight"

I sussed out Anthony's ploy immedietely and one of the girls seemed geunuinely sad that he had to 'go' to Hong Kong and leave them.

"Where we be headin' later on then?" Anthony was rather keen to try Walking street

"Take a look at that Tony's place?" I offered

"Ok then I'll meet you at about 9-ish, back at the condo"

"It's a deal mate" I wanted to track my bargirl down. I hadn't had sex with her, I'd barfined her, and she was developing an attitude. I thought she would jump at any chance to live with me full time while I am staying here. I haven't asked her, but surely it goes without saying, because I'm the man paying!!

I was doubting the whole arrangement I'd envisaged, and to reassure myself I went to the best corner bar to look for her.

There she was, cavorting with a Finnish guy who seemed to know her quite well. I was a bit jealous when she boasted that on her birthday earlier that month they'd stripped her almost naked in front of the bar and she danced to "Can't fight the moonlight" standing on top the bar, topless.

I couldn't believe that she would cheapen herself to such an extent. Then I saw Lek, who smiled at me and winked toward my girl. I went red and came over all embarressed, like I didn't know the way it worked, the drill so to speak.

You mean there's a code of conduct in whoring? Yes there was, and if you're living by it, then you're in too far, too serious. Whores are to be used and abused but some men were falling in love. How?

Then I noticed that she and Lek disappeared.

My phone went. A text. "at salon have hair wash" Oh right. She was at the salon over the road.

Another text. "hery up"..cheeky bitch.

I got to the salon and she was having her hair straightened. So was Lek. 1500 Baht each, and I didn't know it at the time but I was footing the bill.

Oh well, I assumed she'd make it up in bed later tonight. I perked up.

Anthony was well impressed with the black guy rapping in Tony's nightspot.

"Yeah man, ree-spec my bro'" He shouted up to him and held out a fist, they touched fists like old buddies.

"See, told you Thailand is getting the negro flavour, them bitches last night were gettin' down to Dre and Snoop in my gaff last night, ya shoulda been there, they were in the bathtub, all of them, washing my balls while I was sippin' Tanqueray and jiuce like the man himself"

"What man?"

"Snoop Dogg you fool, you shoulda been there"

I was starting to wish that I was, as my own version of his 'hot bitches' was turning out a bit lukewarm. She was full of attitude and hadn't even given me anything yet, and there I was grovelling and paying for hair straightening like some lost fucking puppy.

My girl turned up at midnight and we finally 'made love', her insistence that no kissing and 'finger inside' somewhat perturbed me and she even was willing to wear an eye mask so she couldn't see me. The experience was ok though as I hadn't had any sexual activity for months. But the whole impersonal thing on her part confused me. Do they do this to everyone?

I'm obviously not anywhere near being 'the one', then.

She showed me a picture of her 'boyfriend', a handsome guy from Norway, about 24 years old. She was absolutely mad about him. I felt down about that and decided that while she sleeps in my place, I'm going to get pissed in Walking Street somewhere.

I ended up in TQ 2, elbow to elbow with a bald guy who ran Larry's Dive, and while he wasn't that hard looking, I could sense that his conversation was geared toward slight intimidation. He was trying to appear 'gangsta'. Twat, I thought. If only Anthony was with me.

I went to check my mail as I had had enough of smoke and beer and who would be checking hers but my girl!!

"You were asleep two hours ago at my place"

"I get mail alert to my mobile"

I spied her inbox over her shoulder. One of the subject boxes from a clearly Scandanavian name "David Bruun", read 're: broken condom'. She saw that I had seen it and burst out laughing, "You jealous?" she laughed
"Yeah right I am" But I was fucking furious. I had fallen for this bitch. And she was aware of the fact.

The next day I made the point of seeking out a bag of grass. I needed it big time.

A few days later I found myself on the recieving end of the "farang take me shopping" boast and ended up furnishing her with a TV, games console, several skirts, shoes, portable CD player with speakers and a VCD player.

Anthony meanwhile was doing what I should have been doing. Getting out there and putting it about, without a conscience. What and why was I doing what I was doing?

Sometimes we never know.