Jomtien, 18th January, 2010
18 Jan 2010 5 Comments
I’m still trying to complete 24 hours of sobriety.
Yesterday I made it to 10.p.m.
I spent much the of the afternoon with friends at my old haunt, out by the lake, east of Pattaya. They were all getting drunk and I stayed sober. but eventually I drove back into Pattaya, hit a few pubs and suddenly decided to drink again. I drank until 2a.m. and went home very drunk. The morning was a write off, but I am feeling much better now.
I will try again today. I now know that I can never drink in moderation. I am sick. I have to find a way back to sobriety, or I will surely get very ill, have an accident or harm myself, probably fatally in some other way.
MOBI’S STORY – (PART 34)
THE RETIREMENT YEARS (CONTINUED)
“It’s time for wife number 5”
The Wedding was fascinating and exhausting, but ultimately it was a traumatic disaster.
I was already a regular visitor to Dang’s village in Sa Keo, and everyone in the village and the surrounding area knew me quite well. After all, I had built one of the village’s most ostentatious houses, and I had also been the main benefactor of many drunken parties, where folk came from miles around to eat drink and make merry at my expense.
We arrived a couple of days before the date of the wedding, and the arrangements commenced in earnest.
The whole area surrounding Dang’s house was cordoned off and the road blocked off to traffic to accommodate the stage and dining area for the forthcoming wedding. Caterers were coming all the way from Chonburi, and one of the biggest entertainment groups for miles around were coming to set up stage and provide the live music and entertainment.
In the meantime the monks from the local Wat turned up on a tractor and set up a huge sound system outside the house to provide music for the ‘pre-wedding’ festivities that would run for the 2 days preceding the wedding itself. So the loud music, eating, drinking and merrymaking commenced, and the whole village downed tools for the duration.
Dang and I had already had western wedding outfits made at the Bangkok wedding shop: Dang in a beautiful, floor length, white figure hugging wedding dress, and me in traditional evening dress. But on arrival in Sa Keao, we both went into town to be fitted up with Thai style wedding clothes, which would also be worn on the day.
Then there were the photographers, the wedding video makers, the cake suppliers, the floral designers and flower suppliers, and “Uncle Tom Cobley” an’ all.
I made many, many trips to the ATM during those 2 days.
Things started to turn a bit sour when Dang disappeared for longer and longer periods – leaving me alone at the house, surrounded by a bunch of drunken Thai men. Of course I was also drinking, and the more I drunk the more upset I became at Dang’s long, unexplained absences. It finally came to a head on the eve of the wedding when Dang had been absent virtually all afternoon and evening. I was getting drunker and ever angrier. I kept calling her, and she kept telling me she was with friends, or having her hair done and would be back shortly; but of course “shortly” never came.
(I should add that even by this relatively early stage in our relationship, I had realised that Dang was a compulsive and accomplished liar, and that she was always up to no good, so every time she was out of sight, I would become paranoid about where she might be and what she might be doing. As the years wore on, I slowly realized that all my worst fears were more than justified.
It was getting very late, and still no sign of Dang, and I got so angry and drunk, that I stormed out of the house and staggered through the village, before passing out at the side of the road, a mile or so from Dang’s house.
I was found by some locals who were sent out to track me down and escort me back home. I found that Dang had finally deigned to return. No doubt someone told her what had happened.
She was beside herself with rage. How dare I shame her in front of her family!!! She had not done anything wrong and I had behaved in such a shameful and disgusting way. The wedding was off, and I should leave now and go back to Bangkok!
Dang would always defend herself against any problem that I had with her by attacking me. She would always come out with all guns blazing, even though I had caught her out in an outrageous lie or unacceptable behavior. On this particular occasion, she had promised me faithfully all day long that she would return in the afternoon, and then in half and hour and so on and so on, and of course it was nearly midnight when she finally arrived. But it was all my fault for getting drunk and shaming her. And if I hadn’t kept calling her she would have come home hours ago.
So in a pattern of behaviour that was to be repeated time and time again over the years, I offered my abject apologies, and begged her to forgive me, and apologized to her mother and family. She finally relented and agreed that the wedding would proceed after all.
I slept very little that night, and the wedding day was one of the most exhausting days I have ever lived through.
Dang disappeared at around 4.30 a.m. to go in to town and have her hair done and be made up and dressed in traditional Thai garb for the morning ceremonies. By the time Dang left, there were already dozens of villagers and family milling around the house preparing food and setting up stuff in perpetration for the Thai ceremony.
The photographers, video team, and floral people turned up and commenced their own preparations.
Dang finally arrived back around 8.30 looking like a Thai Princess. I had to admit she looked absolutely stunning.
Then at nine about a dozen monks arrived on a tractor and went into the house, and Mobi – dressed as a traditional Thai Puyai (nobleman) was taken out of the village to await start of the ceremony. I was accompanied by a large crowd of villagers , and a pickup truck which had a sound system on the back together with a group of Thai musicians, sporting various western and Thai musical instruments.
At the stroke of nine the music started up, and I had to walk slowly back to the village, accompanied by mor lam,(northeastern folk music); the already drunken revelers dancing madly around me. The women seemed even drunker than the men and they kept covering me with flowers as we slowly made our way back to the house.
Upon arrival at the front door, I was bidden to remove my shoes and socks, and a local girl washed my feet, and I was told to pay her. In fact I recall that during my march back to the house I was forever paying various amounts of money to all kinds of people for God knows what reason – ostensibly Thai traditions. Maybe they made it up as they went along.
Once inside the house, I found the monks seated along one side of the large downstairs room, and all the family and visitors kneeling and facing them.
The sound system was alive and well, and the wedding activities in the house were broadcast at umpteen decibels to the surrounding countryside to those who were not invited indoors.
The village elders took charge of the ceremony – which of course was all in Thai – and went on forever and ever. There was much chanting and praying, with Dang and I being the focal point in the center of the room.
We had to kneel with our hands in the prayer position for ages, and after a few minutes I could no longer manage to maintain the required position – I was in agony. A kind soul brought me a cushion which he put under my elbow to provide support. I looked ridiculous – but what the h…..
After what seemed like an eternity, Dang and I were blessed by the monks and then the food was brought out, which we had to present to them, one at a time. Then there was some other stuff, and finally the part of the ceremony involving the monks was over and at long last I could get up off the floor.
But the remainder of the proceedings still had a long way to go. We were re-seated in a specially prepared area, surrounded by a large wedding banner and floral decorations, and had to greet every member of family, and every villager, one at a time, to receive their individual blessing.
Every blessing had to be photographed for prosperity, and it seemed never ending. When at last everyone, including the village cat had blessed us, the group photographs started. I had had little sleep, no food, was terribly hung over and sore from my kneeling on the hard wooden floor, but had to endure another hour of photographing: large groups, small groups, family groups, friend groups, in-law groups, and so on ‘ad infinitum.’
Then I had to pay over the Sin sod, (wedding dowry). The agreed amount of gold and cash was produced, counted and duly handed over to Dang’s mum – all with a running commentary to everyone, near and far. She then wrapped up her new found wealth in a large cloth and and took it upstairs with the loot over her shoulder.
For the last item on the morning agenda, Dang and I were accompanied upstairs by family and friends into the marital bedroom, where the bed had been prepared, covered with rose petals. I was required to pick up my wife and put her on the bed and lay down with her and everyone covered us with the petals. (It goes without saying that all this was photographed for posterity.)To this day I’m not too sure what it was all supposed to mean, but if it was intended to ensure that we enjoyed long and happy sexual relations, then it failed miserably.
The day was only half over and I was exhausted.
The evening part was yet to start, and as I made my way downstairs to get some food in my belly, and cure my hangover with a ‘hair of the dog” I noticed with an inward groan that the catering company had arrived, and were immediately followed into the area by the “entertainers”, in two very large trucks, jammed full of staging and other equipment.
The stage that they erected over the next few hours would had done justice to Wembley stadium. It was massive, and came complete with yet another, even bigger sound system, and a full range of overhead stage lighting. The stage was so high that the crew, musicians and dancers were able to set up house underneath, and cordon off little rooms with curtains so that they could get ready and change in relative privacy.
The caterers did their thing and about 60 tables were set up in front of the stage and the entrance to the site was prepared. By the time dusk had descended, the whole area had been transformed into an impressive, outdoor wedding venue.
Five of Dang’s lovely girl friends had arrived from Bangkok, and they were dressed to kill. Together they formed the ‘welcome committee’ at the venue entrance and as the guests arrived, they handed over their envelopes containing money, and in return were given little wedding mementos by the ladies, before being escorted to where Dang and I were standing – this time dressed in our ‘western’ wedding clothes, for yet another session of photographs. We had to be photographed with every guest who arrived, and once again it seemed to go on forever.
In the meantime the food was served, the music had started, the singers were doing their stuff, and the dancing girls were dancing up a sexy storm on the huge wedding stage.
At length the late arrivals reduced to a trickle so we then made our way to each table in turn, for yet more group photos with the guests. By this time I was running on adrenalin and alcohol. I must have done more waiying on that wedding day that I have done before or since in my entire life.
Before I had managed to get a single spoonful of food in my mouth, the speeches started. We had an MC, and if any of my dear readers have ever been to any official Thai ‘do’, you will know that Thais love to speak on stage to a captive audience. I was looking forward to some personal time to get something to eat, but that idea was soon shattered when to my shock and embarrassment I was called to go up on stage, along with Dang , her mother and other local dignitaries.
We formed a line alongside the MC, and interviews were conducted, one at a time. I was dreading my turn, as although I spoke reasonable Thai, this was all too much for a humble farang. At length he asked me if I had anything say, and I mumbled shyly back – in very bad Thai, thanking everyone for coming. I don’t think many of the Issan speaking guests understood one word that I said, but the MC kindly translated for me into ‘real’ Thai.
Then each guest was invited to sing! I put my foot down here, and even though they assured me I could choose a farang song, I stubbornly refused, so in the end they gave up on me and moved down the line.
The speeches and singing were finally at an end, and I left the stage, managing to get something to eat and to get drunker than ever.
Dang was also doing pretty well, and was getting uproariously drunk. I was hoping to God that she behaved herself and didn’t start any trouble with me. Please God, let this be one occasion when we could get drunk, enjoy ourselves and stay happy with each other.
The cake was cut, the champagne opened and the party became ever drunker, wilder and louder. The band were paid extra to keep the music going past the agreed finish time and it was around 4 a.m. when it was finally all over.
Dang, her friends, Mobi and all the family and neighbours were pissed out of their gourds.
Then the trouble started.
Jomtien, 15th January, 2010
15 Jan 2010 2 Comments
Today is my first day of sobriety.
Yes, I did pick up again last night.
For some reason, I feel in a better state of mind today, and I think I might make it.
I will stay at home all day and this evening I may pop out briefly to eat and do a bit of shopping.
Then I will come back home, put on a movie and try to sweat it out in my condo. If I succeed then tomorrow it should be a bit easier.
I certainly hope so.
MOBI’S STORY – (PART 33)
THE RETIREMENT YEARS (CONTINUED)
“It’s time for wife number 5”
There were two people who were very happy at the departure of Dang.
The first was Jai, my maid, (although I didn’t realise it at the time), and the second was my ‘good’ Thai friend – Chat. He who was ripping me off in connection with the Mei house ‘recovery affair and he who had been introduced to me by my Englsih friend Dave, as a Thai I could trust with my money and my life.
It was at this very time – when I was having trouble with Dang and was obliged to move home – that Chat was busy getting his claws into me. He had recently persuaded me to set up and invest in the project for the building of expat retirement homes in Ayudhaya.
Chat was happy because he didn’t like Dang, and in his opinion she was a bad influence on me. Certainly from his point of view, he wanted no outside influences interfering with his various schemes to relieve me of large amounts of my money.
As for Jai, well she had known Dang for a number of years, and was Dang’s maid in an earlier life, so I assumed she would take Dang’s side on the trouble that had occurred between us. Maybe she wouldn’t even want to work for me any more.
Nothing could have been further from the truth. Jai went out of her way to assure me of her sympathy and sorrow for all the trouble and hurt I had suffered from Dang, and I started to detect a slight but discernible change in her attitude. She became much more friendly, smiled at me frequently, and even started to dress more ‘tidily’. She was quite a pretty thing, of around 30 years of age, but although the idea was tempting, I kept away from it. Jai had two young children and a wife-beating husband. I wanted no part of that mess – I had enough of my own.
Before Dang and I had our major bust up, we had been talking about marriage. We had even been to one of these “wedding Shops”, and had visited a Wat where an monk gave us a list of propitious dates on which to hold our wedding festivities.
A date had been provisionally chosen for mid January and Dang’s family had been informed. But after I threw Dang out, all these plans were canceled, and the wedding called off.
Dang must have been gone a couple of weeks or so when I decided to pay a visit to the Office Bar to see if she had started work yet. She wasn’t there, and possibly never would be. Maybe I was really rid of her for good.
With the help of Chat, I moved into a house in a nearby sub-soi, and set up my home and office there. Plans were also in an advanced stage for Chat to move into the second, vacant bedroom.
Then one day, I went to the Office Bar, and there she was. She had just started work again. I had almost forgotten how beautiful she was, especially when she ‘tarted herself up’ with make up and classy, figure -hugging clothes. She was sitting with a customer who had his arms around her. I felt a massive stab of jealousy.
I ordered a drink and tried to ignore her, but could not. The customer was in no hurry to go, and as the evening wore on he bought her more and more drinks. Dang had seen me, sitting along the bar, but made no effort to even acknowledge my existence. and I proceeded to get very drunk, in a hapless, gut wrenching fit of jealousy.
It was closing time, and the guy was still there, and I had this feeling of foreboding that he would take her home with him. I finally managed to talk to Dang when the guy went to take a leak, and asked her if she was going with him. She asked me why I wanted to know. I didn’t answer directly, but told her that I didn’t want her to go with him. She was non committal, and in a fit of utter desperation, I told her that I wanted her to go home with me. She smiled at me and said she would think about it.
The guy came back, and took Dang into a quite corner and spoke to her for what seemed like an age – presumably trying to persuade her to go with him. I feared the worst, and was feeling utterly miserable, when at long last, the guy kissed her goodbye and left the bar by himself.
Dang then disappeared into the staff area, and I waited and waited and waited to find out if she would come with me. I knew I was being stupid, but I couldn’t help myself. I was totally consumed with infatuation and jealousy.
Of course you know what happened. She eventually appeared in her ‘street clothes” and took my arm and led me out of the bar, into my car, and back into my life.
She didn’t move back in that night. In fact it was a while before she came back ‘full time’ as it were, and I had to pay through my teeth. I agreed to pay the rent on the apartment she had leased,(incluidng the forfeited security deposit for breaking the lease), along with a fridge, stereo and other stuff she had bought to fit it out. Then I had to pay a large sum to the Office bar, which she had previously paid over to get her job back. In the event, she continued to work for a few more days, and had me in paroxysms of jealousy every time I went to see her and take her home as she was invariably entwined with customers, plying them for drinks.
She was the living proof that the best looking hostesses can more than survive on drinks and tips and have no need to sleep with customers to get a decent income. At the end of each evening she would a mountain of drink chits, but that paled into insignificance compared to the large sums she picked up in tips. Remember the customers were high rollers, and they all succumbed to Dangs beauty and charms. Tips of more two thousand Baht per customer, were not at all unusual. More than I would usually pay for an “all nighter”.
Jai and Chat were not at all impressed by the return of the prodigal. The look on Chat’s face was one of devastation when he saw Dang come downstairs one morning just after he had arrived at my office. They barely spoke to each other, and it goes without staying Chat immediately canceled his plans to move in with me.
Then a few days later Dang informed me that something was the matter with our maid. She told me that Jai was always so miserable and that she hardly spoke to her. On top of that, her work was getting slip shod.
Dang eventually discovered from overhearing some idle chit chat imparted by Jai to a friend, that Jai had set her hat at me and was convinced I would respond favorably and take her as my live-in lover. Her dreams were shattered when Dang returned, but of course this despair had little to do with love, but everything to do with money and security.
In those early weeks back together, life was pretty good and we both resolved to turn over a new leaf, cut back on our drinking and see if we couldn’t really make a go of our relationship. Things seemed to be going so well, that it wasn’t long before a new date was announced for our wedding, a couple of months hence, in mid March.
But in reality, it was the “calm before the storm”.
Jomtien, 14th January, 2010. Still drunk!!
14 Jan 2010 1 Comment
Today is my first day of sobriety – yet again…. and again…and again….and again…
Yes, I am still drinking, in spite of daily attempts to stop.
The binges are getting progressively worse and follow a familiar pattern. I wake up feeling pretty shitty, but as the day progresses, my head starts to clear and then I have a shower, get some cereal and fruit inside me and feel a lot better. On a couple of occasions, I have even made the noon AA meeting down the road, and on another day the 5 p.m. meeting in Pattaya.
I usually start drinking quite late – maybe 7 or 8 p.m. Up the the point I pick up the first beer, I am resolved not to drink, but then something happens in my twisted, alcoholic brain – a little ‘monkey’ inside me says something like: “I know you want to stop, and I know you will stop eventually, but now you’ve started, you might as well postpone your abstinence for one more day.”
I think about this for a while, and the more I think the more I like the idea. “Well one more day won’t make much difference will it?”
So I start all over again.
For two nights in a row I passed out without taking my nightly medication and insulin shots. On the second occasion, I remembered bringing the glass of water to my bedside table, and when I woke up in the morning the glass was upright, but empty. I checked my pills and found that I hadn’t taken them. Then I picked up a full box of tissues that I kept on the bedside table, and discovered that the box and it’s contents were sodden. In my drunken state I must have emptied the glass of water into the the tissue box!!
Then on another night I passed out in bar in Jomtien. I was eventually woken up and told to pay a food bill to a “som tum” vendor. Apparently, before I passed out I had agreed to buy som tum, (very hot papaya salad containing tiny little foul smelling crabs), for the entire bar staff . They could have been lying, but I doubt it, as they know me quite well, and it’s the sort of thing I do when I’m drunk. At least it was cheaper than ringing the bell.
Of course on each occasion I have been driving – fortunately not very far, but it’s still pretty disgusting, and I’m not proud of it.
The black outs have been coming thick and fast. I never used to get them at all, but they started a couple of years ago, and now happen virtually every time I drink.
So today I will try yet again to stop for good.
Wish me luck folks, I’m going to need it.
MOBI’S STORY – (PART 32)
THE RETIREMENT YEARS (CONTINUED)
“It’s time for wife number 5”
It was September 2003, when I first took Dang home with me from the Office Bar. I hadn’t been mistaken – she was indeed a very lovely lady of 26 years of age. Almost immediately I became smitten with her, and my six and a half years of misery was up and running. Dang spoke virtually no English, and my spoken Thai, which by this time wasn’t half bad, improved further in leaps and bounds.
I was still living at my luxury apartment in Soi 15, and within a couple of days of Dang staying with me, I should have seen the warning signs and thrown her out. But being a perverse drunk who always dreams he can change a woman’s nature and make her love him, I became ever more emotionally entrapped by this fascinating, beautiful woman.
I recall very clearly one of our early conversations when Dang agreed to stay with me but said that sometimes she would need her own time to go out with her friends. I have never wanted to control any woman who has lived with me, and was more than happy to give her whatever freedom she needed to be happy and content. After all, we had only just met, and marriage wasn’t even being contemplated.
The “sometimes” became virtually every day. She would take off in the afternoons, assuring me that she would be back home at the latest by 11 p.m. I would lucky if I would see her before 2 or 3 a.m, and sometimes not at all. She would invariably arrive home drunk, and would sleep the mornings away, only to rouse herself in the afternoons and head off once again. Occasionally she would be so hungover that she would stay in bed for 24 hours, never going anywhere.
It was on just such an occasion when I decided to move my home from Soi 15 to another large apartment in Soi 31. Dang was so hungover, that she didn’t lift a finger to help me, when I spent the day packing up and moving all my stuff.
There were so many occasions in those early months when I should have just bitten the bullet and finished with her, but I was becoming ever more besotted and still clung to the fantasy that one day she would change.
After a while I met some of her friends, and I will never forget the occasion when I met her very best friend (who remains so to this day). She was Jay, an exceptionally pretty, very light skinned Issan lady who worked as a hostess in an exclusive Japanese club, off Sukhumvit Road. We went to her club one day to meet her, and Dang asked me if I could “bar fine” Jay so that she could go out to eat with us. I had no problem with this request, expecting the fine to be around five hundred Baht. The bill was delivered to me on a silver tray by a uniformed waiter – two thousand four hundred baht!
I said nothing and paid the bill, but inside I was starting to fume. By the time we drove to the restaurant, I was beside myself with anger for being conned into paying such an outrageous amount of money just so that a friend could go with us to eat. (Remember this was 7 years ago, when things in general were quite a bit cheaper than they are in 2010). I stopped the car outside the restaurant, and when we got out, I told the two of them that I was very angry at what had happened the two of them in the road, and told to go and eat by themselves. I then drove off in a furious rage. I decided that someone was taking the piss – and it wasn’t me.
Of course, I eventually calmed down, and Dang came back to me the next day, and forced me to make an abject apology for my outrageous behaviour. But for about two years after that I always referred to Jay as “Song Pun See”,(Two thousand four hundred), as I could never forget the most expensive ‘friend’ I had ever had the pleasure of meeting.
On occasion Dang would drag me along with her when she went out to clubs and discos with her friends, presumably so that she could get the bills paid. She frequented the most expensive places in town, and I ended up having to pay for everyone. I didn’t even get to enjoy myself. In a pattern that was to be repeated throughout the years that I was with Dang, every time she went out with me, she would get drunk, and for a while all would be fun and laughter. Then the alcohol would get hold of her and she would suddenly turn on me and start a fight, for absolutely no reason. These fights could be pretty terrible, and would continue when we arrived home. She would shout even louder at me and then start throwing things around, and slamming doors. She would sometimes rage for hours, before finally falling into a drunken sleep.
So quite early on in my relationship, I tended to avoid going out with her too often, and we both slipped into the habit of going out separately – me with my friends, Dang with her friends. Occasionally I would still go out with Dang and her friends, to celebrate a birthday, or some other special occasion, but without exception, every time we did, she would get drunk and end up picking a fight with me.
For the first few months I had tried to be the perfect ‘boy friend’. I had cut down on my drinking, and avoided ‘girlie’ bars. I was completely faithful. But once the drunken fights obliged us to go our separate ways for entertainment, I once more went back to my old haunts, although I still remained faithful. In spite of everything, Dang was still the only woman in my life and the only one I wanted to make love to.
Then we started to row over the phone. Dang would demand to know where I was, and would accuse me of having a new girl friend. I, in turn, would get angry with her, because she would never come home at a reasonable hour, despite all her promises. I would always go home when the bars closed – usually midnight or 1 a.m. but Dang would turn up, later and later – 3, 4 or even 5 a.m.
On one occasion Dang called me around midnight and demanded to know where I was. I told her I was on my way home (which I was), and when I arrived, I found a drunken Dang waiting for me. She stared screaming at me that I had been ‘sleeping around’ and when I tried to deny it, she punched me on the face – very hard. I was stunned – she had never been violent before. Then she punched me again and again, and gave me a bad black eye, and drew blood. I didn’t know what to do. I had never had a violent woman before, and I had never used violence on a woman. So I just grabbed hold of her wrists and did my best to restrain her, and eventually she stopped.
Thinking back, this was probably a warning sign that I should have heeded. If I had been Thai, I would probably have hit her back and hurt her, and as a result she probably would never had tried to hit me again. As it was, I let her hit me, and once she knew she could get away with it she would repeat this violent behaviour throughout the rest of our time together.
I don’t deny that it takes two to have a fight, and my ever increasing drunkenness exacerbated the volatile situation. But Dang would invariably start the ball rolling, and because I was drunk, I would shout back. But I have always been what is known as a “happy drunk” and as long as people don’t try to make trouble with me, I will never start a fight.
Nevertheless, she would always blame me for starting them and blame my excessive drinking on all the trouble between us. I actually believed her for a long time, and tried desperately to control my drinking, with little success. But when I eventually did succeed in staying dry for long periods – once for almost nine months – I finally realized that it wasn’t me after all. She still got drunk and still picked fights, and I would be completely sober. The ‘penny had finally dropped’ that Dang was also an alcoholic and had a greater problem with alcohol than even poor old Mobi.
We had received a number of warnings from the landlord of my apartment that my neighbors had complained about the noise we made when fighting late at night. The warnings were not heeded, and when the six month lease came up for renewal, I was given a final warning and also as a penalty, they increased my rent.
One day, soon after the rent had been increased, we had another very violent encounter late at night. She hadn’t only been hitting me with anything she could find to hand , but had also been breaking things up in the apartment. I finally saw ‘red’ and grabbed hold of her and threw her out. She banged on the door for ages but I refused to open it, and eventually she went away.
I was concerned that she may return with friends to create more mayhem, so I called my Thai ‘friend’ Chat – yes the very one who I was later to discover was ripping me off – and asked him if he could help me get some protection. He immediately called his friend, the military Colonel, and within an hour there were two military cops stationed outside my apartment door.
They provided a twenty four hour protection for me and after a few days Dang contacted me and told me that she wanted to collect her things as she had moved to a new apartment, and would go back to work at Office Bar. I refused to let her in the place, but told the maid to pack up all her stuff, and the military guards then delivered her bags to her new home.
Of course I had to pay an exorbitant fee for all these ‘services’ provided by the complements of the Thai Military.
Then the landlord gave me one month’s notice to move out. He had had enough of Mobi and his noisy, violent girl friend. This was the first, and I hope the last occasion, I had been asked to vacate a home due to unsatisfactory behaviour. And remember, this is Thailand, where almost anything goes – especially noise at all hours – so it must have been pretty bad.
It was December 2004, and Dang was gone – the affair was all over – finished, and I was to start a new single life in a new home.
Yet within three months I was married.
What happened?
Jomtien, 10th January, 2010. Still drunk.
10 Jan 2010 1 Comment
Today is my first day of sobriety – yet again…. and again…
Yesterday, I made it to around 7 p.m. and felt pretty good.
It was pretty stupid really.
I had been playing around with the appearance of my blog header, and then decided it was time to change my avatar on Thai Visa, and also to set up a “blog picture” with the same theme. My beloved golden retriever, Cookie, has been my avatar for a couple of years or so now, and it was time for a change. I never see her any more, and miss her like crazy, and every time I see my avatar it reminds me of her.
Nearby there was an unopened bottle of Sangsom Thai whisky, (rum actually), and I thought that a bottle of Thai booze in the foreground, and an AA ‘Big Book’ in the background might make an appropriate avatar to represent my life at present. A sort of ‘coat of arms’ – I wonder if any expert could come up with some suitable heraldic inscription?
So out with my camera and I spent the next hour getting my new avatar set up in Thai Visa and onto my blog.
But you know what AA say about alcohol – cunning, baffling and powerful. Handling that bottle, taking photos of it and posting onto the internet was playing with fire. The bottle shouldn’t have even been in my room. But by 7.30 I was feeling very good and was bewitched into believing that a couple of glasses would do me no harm. Two hours later it was almost empty, and I decided to have a shower and go out.
I went down to my regular pub and met the girl who had blown me out a,few days earlier and been the main trigger for my relapse. She was very friendly so I bought her and I some drinks and I carried on where I had left off at home. The place closed at midnight, and somehow or other I ended up with her, and four of her friends in a large Thai Night club on Third Road. There was live music, and we ordered up the 100 Pipers and danced for the next 3 hours. My lady was getting very drunk. They were playing a version of “scissors, stone and paper” with their hands, and the loser had to ‘chug-a-lug’ a glass of whisky. I declined to play, but my lady had an uncanny knack of losing and was getting really sloshed.
I realised that as young as she was, she showed all the alcoholic tendencies. Her friends were no where near as drunk as she was and they were sipping their drinks slowly, whereas she was knocking them back at the rate of knots, whether or not she lost the game.
In the wee hours the whisky was finished, the bill paid, and she slumped into my car for the drive home. She started shouting very loud directions at me as I drove along and I knew this woman was going to be trouble. Once home, she immediately jumped on my computer and started to email her friends in Khon Kaen.
After a while I sat down behind her, put my arms around her and tried to give her a little ‘fondle’. After all I was drunk and feeling very amorous. She pulled my hands away roughly, and when I tried once again to cuddle her, she leaped up from the chair, grabbed her bag and took off out of the apartment. By the time I realised she had really gone, she had disappeared into the lift and I gave up trying to chase her and bring her back. She had already had her ‘money’ as she needed some earlier so I had paid in advance for the night’s ‘services’, for which I had received nothing in return. This was the third time this had happened, so I knew it was time to give up.
My other girl friend of the moment – the nymphomaniac – had been calling me all evening, and as I was still feeling aroused and not a little frustrated, I decided to call her. By the time she arrived it was already morning – 8 a.m. She stayed until 10.30 as she had to go to Bangkok at 11.a.m., and I finally crashed into a drunken stupor.
I woke up this afternoon feeling like shit, but now feel a little better after gallons of coffee and some delicious English style sausage sandwiches – cooked by the hungover Mobi.
The tenth of January has a nice, memorable ring to it, so maybe I can start my new sobriety from today. I still feel like shit, but at least I am vertical, and functioning. I may go to an AA meeting this evening. I will decide soon.
Please note the two comments on yesterday’s blog, to which I have made some lengthy responses.
Jomtien, 9th January, 2010.
09 Jan 2010 5 Comments
Today is my first day of sobriety – again!!
Yes, I drank yesterday, but not to excess – about six bottles of beer as far as I can recall.
Today I feel fine – no hangover, and had a pretty good night’s sleep. So today is probably the best opportunity I will have to to stop drinking again as I do not need any ‘hairs of the dog’ to make me feel better.
If I do decide to continue my drinking today, I know from experience that I will gradually drink more and more as my alcohol tolerance returns to ‘pre-sobriety” levels.
One of the reasons I have been sleeping so well is because I have been sleeping with a real, multi-orgasmic nymphomaniac for the past two days who has also helped to keep my mind off the subject of drinking. But at my age I can’t keep it up, (no pun intended), and I will probably have to pass on her tonight. I’m bloody exhausted!
So I’ll just have to see how I get on.
MOBI’S STORY – (PART 31)
THE RETIREMENT YEARS (CONTINUED)
“It’s time for wife number 5”
The memories and pain of my bad experiences with Mei was slowly extinguished by copious volumes of alcohol and a never ending parade of bar girls through my bedroom at my impressive apartment, just off Soi 15, in Sukhumvit Road.
After a while, I rotated about half a dozen ‘favourites, and as my drinking became more and more excessive, the occasions when I would go home alone, became ever more frequent, and if I did have a girl accompany me, I would be totally incapable of doing anything. They became ‘sleeping companions’, rather than lovers.
I suppose you could say I was pretty lucky to have survived that period without suffering any injuries to myself, or indeed getting mugged in the early hours, as I staggered down the road searching for a taxi, or occasionally, searching for my rented car. I lived quite close to the ‘action’ but had enough sense on most days to leave my car at home; but there were days when I started drinking earlier than planned, and thus had my car with me, and then had to drive home in the early hours when disgustingly intoxicated. Not a great idea.
I recall one particular occasion when I lurched along the road in search of my car which was parked on Soi 33, only to find that it wouldn’t move when I clambered in and cranked up the engine. Upon closer and undoubtedly drunken inspection, I discovered that I had been clamped! Then found a police ticket on the windscreen, and staggered down the road clutching it in my hand, hoping to find some cop who would agree to un-clamp me.
As luck would have it I came across a bunch of them, seated at a table outside one of the bars, (It was way past closing time – of course), getting stuck into bottles of Thai whiskey. I wandered over to them, manically waving my ticket. They obligingly took a look at it and informed me that they could do nothing and that I had to go to Thonglor police station. It was around 3.a.m. and I was completely sloshed, but in my drunken stupor, I saw nothing amiss or foolish about hailing a taxi, and getting him to take me to the cop shop at Thong Lor. I staggered into the police station, waved my ticket at anyone who might take an interest and the desk sergeant, being unusually indulgent with a drunken farang, indicated that I should take it upstairs.
I was finally led into the office of a high ranking officer who had his sergeant take a copy of the copy of my passport, which I fortunately always carried with me. He didn’t ask to see my driving licence, but he did tell me to pay a fine of five hundred baht. I was clearly very drunk, but no one seemed to care – they just wanted their five hundred baht. After I was handed a receipt for my fine, I had the temerity to ask the officer if my car would now be un-clamped so that I could drive it home. He asked me where it was located, and then made a call on his mobile, and told me that by the time I got back to my car, the clamps would have been removed.
It probably should have occurred to me that the police might be awaiting the arrival of a drunk driver and pounce on him, but my luck held, and when the taxi dropped me next to my car I scrambled into the seat and drove home.
The next day, when I sobered up, I realised that I had been very foolish and was lucky not to be in jail, or dead.
As the days and weeks passed, I started to gravitate to a bar just off Soi 33, called the Office Bar. Some of you who live in Bangkok may know of it. In those days it was in its infancy, not having been open long, but the volume and quality of the ladies it attracted made it an overnight success. It was a cut above most of the bars in that area, as were the ladies who flocked to work there: sometimes dressed very provocatively in micro minis or in skirts with splits to the upper thighs, and on other occasions looking very elegant in figure hugging evening dresses.
One thing soon became very clear. The most beautiful ladies in this joint never lasted very long. They were soon snapped up as ‘live-ins’, or even future wives by the better off farangs who had more money than sense – just like Mobi.
I took a few home and at length I became quite keen on one slightly more mature lady; her name was Jum; she was quite sophisticated and was in her early thirties. Jum spoke good English and I soon struck up a good, very friendly relationship with her. In retrospect, she would have probably made a very good long term partner. But it wasn’t to be.
One night I went to meet her, but was told she was off that day (“off” usually being a euphemism for ‘otherwise engaged’), so in my usual ‘Mobi huff’, I looked around the bar for an alternative. It was quite early and as was the custom, there was a long row of lovely ladies standing and sitting behind the bar awaiting customers to invite them for drinks.
At the end of the line I spotted a very pretty girl who I had not seen before. She must have been new. I smiled at her and she returned my smile with a shy grin. I beckoned for her to come and sit down with me, and saw that she was indeed very beautiful. She was Dang, a lovely girl from Sa kaeo. Dang spoke no English and told me that this was her third day at work and that she had never worked in a bar before. (I found out much later that this was one of the few occasions when she actually told me the truth.).
It didn’t take long to ask her to go home with me, and so it was that my new, fateful, traumatic relationship, which was lead to my fifth disastrous marriage and to last almost seven years, was to begin.
Much later I was to briefly see Jum again back at the Office Bar, and she came over to say hello, and she told me that she had made a huge mistake by not being there the night that I met Dang. She said that she was very sad that she had let me get away, and assured me that she would have made a very good and loyal wife.
Whether or not that was true, I will never know. The fickle finger of fate had already dealt the latest hand of cards to a luckless, alcoholic Mobi.
Jomtien, 8th January, 2009
08 Jan 2010 6 Comments
Today is my first day of sobriety.
I think I have stopped. I hope I have.
Why did I drink? I am not sure, but I will try to analyze my motives.
I had been sober for 127 days, and prior to that I managed 90 odd days before I went on a five day drunk in Chiang Mai. On that occasion I blew up at an AA meeting and went out and started drinking, but thinking back on it, I am sure that I was just using the so-called upset as an excuse. Deep down I had already decided that I was going to drink.
This time it is not so easy to figure it out. I just been through one of the worst depressions in my life, over Christmas and the New Year, but I hadn’t picked up a drink. But I had started to miss a lot of meetings and I had already been warned that this would lead to me drinking. Maybe once the idea that I might pick up a drink was started to germinate in my mind, it was only a matter of time before the idea became a reality.
But what actually triggered it?
Something pretty crazy, which only confirms to me how sick I am and that I still have a long way to go along the road to mental stability.
I think most of my readers will understand by now that I have a severe hang up with relationships. All my life I have sought out women who I must have realised, in some way, would become abusive or destructive in the relationship, as it developed.
I am now starting to realise that I have some kind of “addiction:” to ‘bad’ women and bad relationships, and that I seek them, because in some kind of twisted way, I seem to ‘get off’ on the emotional pain that is produced by them.
Maybe my addiction is akin to a gambler’s addiction, as I understand that a gambler doesn’t really care if he wins or loses, (and many are happy to lose), as it is the “high” they get from the thrill of the chase, the risk and excitement they enjoy as they follow the fortunes of their wager.
So my return to the bottle involved a woman – it had to, didn’t it?
I had seen this girl in a pub I started to patronize in the afternoons and evenings. It was a large drinking and eating establishment in the Jomtien suburbs, and was patronized mainly by expat residents, but also by a reasonable number of male tourists, many of whom had been to Pattaya many times before. The place was cheap, friendly, and had good food, and I felt comfortable there. I had seen the girl in question for several evenings in a row, leading up to the new year, always sitting at the bar, buying her own beer and drinking slowly, while chatting away to the female bar tenders. She wasn’t working there – she was a customer – and she is very pretty. Her name is Lek.
Then when I went to the pub on New Year’s day and I was surprised to find Lek behind the bar, busy working. I asked her why she was now working, and she showed me her empty pockets – no money.
So over the next couple of days I chatted her up, bought her some drinks, and eventually she agreed to go home with me. We had a lovely evening in my condo, and by now I knew her background. She was 21, came from Khon Kaen, had a six month old baby from a Thai man who had dumped her – the usual story. She had been obliged to leave college and find a job to pay for her baby’s upkeep. As soon as she came to my room she immediately jumped on my computer and started emailing and chatting to all her college mates in KonKaen, and it became apparent that she had considerable PC skills, and was no fool.
Although I had only just met her, I took an immediate fancy to her. We had no sexual relations that night, and in the morning, I took her out for breakfast and then drove her back to her room. She had agreed she would stay with me again that night, but wanted to go to work as she enjoyed working with her friends, and she told me that I could come and pick her up when she finished work around 12 midnight.
That was fine by me, and later I went to have lunch at the pub and to confirm that she would still come home with me that evening. She said yes, but to come a bit later, about 1 a.m. as she thought they would be very busy. I noticed she had changed from a fairly modest dress into revealing shorts and spaghetti top, but thought nothing of it.
So I spent the rest of the afternoon, and evening at home and around 12.30 that night I called Lek to see if she was ready to be collected. She said the pub was still busy, and she would call me when to come and collect her from her room, which was nearby.
I waited and waited, not suspecting a thing. But by 1.30 I started to wonder what was going on. I called her many times; no answer. I knew that pub never stayed open that late at night, so by this time I was getting myself into a state. I decided to go down to the pub and see what was going on. Five minutes later, I saw what I suspected would be the case; the pub closed, shuttered and in total darkness. It had obviously closed some time ago, because it takes them an hour to clear up and close down everything up after the last customer has gone.
My feelings were totally ridiculous. Here was a pretty girl, younger than my youngest daughter, who had I known for a few days and who I could not possibly have any feelings for, yet I felt as distressed and hurt as if I had just discovered my wife of five years in bed with another man. My feelings were totally over the top, and I knew it.
Yes, she had taken me for a sucker, but so what? What did I expect? And why was I so upset. We hardly knew each other. The more I thought about it the more I realised that I truly was one “f.cked up dude” (as dear Stephanie told me), who had the emotional maturity of a twelve year old.
So in the end, I am not sure what I was more upset about: the fact that this lady had lied to me, and was no doubt out with some other man at that moment, or the fact that it was hurting me so much, and that these feelings were completely ridiculous and illogical.
when I was younger, I can recall being quite able to take in my stride the ‘cut and thrust’ of Thai bar girls coming and going and lying to me, and I learned to give as good as I got. So for some reason my mental state was obviously deteriorating. Maybe all the relationship shit that I have been through has left me indelibly scarred and quite incapable of forming a normal relationship and being able to handle all these devious ladies.
It was 2.a.m; I drove to Walking Street, parked up, walked into a bar and ordered a beer. One beer followed another, and one bar followed another, and by 7.a.m. I was drunk, drove home alone and crashed.
I woke at noon, still pissed, and went out to continue my binge. I ended up in the early morning in Jomtien in one of the all night beer bars, and latched onto another young thing, who eventually came home with me, when I finally decided that I had drunk enough whisky, which had inevitably followed my consumption of umpteen bottles of beer.
Yesterday I felt pretty bad, although I had had a decent enough sleep. In the afternoon I went back to my local pub, saw the recalcitrant Lek at work behind the bar, greeted her, bought her a drink and behaved as though nothing had happened. She was still nursing a hangover from her exploits the night she had lied to me, and had apparently gone out with friends and ended up paralytic. (A guilt trip maybe?).
I was still feeling pretty bad, so I ordered a few beers to make the pain go away, and after a while, when I was tipsy, I decided to take a different girl from the pub home with me.
I didn’t do it particularly to piss off Lek – for I doubt that would be possible, in fact she was probably relieved that I wasn’t going to hassle her any more.
I had another good night’s sleep – yes I always sleep better when not alone – and today I will try hard to stop drinking.
We shall see.
I am not sure if and when I will go back to AA. I will think about it for a day or so.
I re-print below a comment on this subject, and my reply:
friend, on January 6th, 2010 at 3:47 am Said:
The day count of being sober is one of the problems I have with the AA.
You drank for a day so you have to start from zero again. It’s a way of conning you into believing you have failed. Will always fail and always need them and their god.
You haven’t.
Being sober for 123 days has been great for your health.
Drinking on day 124 doesn’t mean you have to keep drinking.
You just need a break from the world for a while.
Tomorrow, prove to yourself, that you can stop again.
Good luck, mate.
mobi, on January 8th, 2010 at 7:42 am Said: Edit Comment
I tend to agree with you about the ‘day count’. The first time I slipped, I had no problem going back and starting the day count for a second time. This time though, I fell less ambivalent about it. I will feel that I have failed, and even if I am not judged as such, I will be regarded as someone who failed because I didn’t follow the programme properly – and I didn’t.
There will also be a lot of patronizing – I will be treated as a ‘child’ and given sage advice from those who have had many years of sobriety under their belts. I am not sure I am ready for this, and the anticipation of such treatment may keep me away and even keep me drinking.
I don’t think they have ever claimed that it is “their” God and I think you are being a bit unfair here. I completely accept the notion that probably the only way for a true alcoholic to ultimately remain sober is to find some kind of spirituality – whatever that may be. As always, I am almost jealous of those who have found God or their “Higher Power”, as it surely works for them, and I can see it in their daily lives. For me, I am still looking.
Jomtien, 5th January, 2010: Happy New beer!
05 Jan 2010 9 Comments
Today I am drunk.
The monkey climbed off my back and sat down next to me at the bar, and said; “Mobi, why don’t you have a beer? Don’t you know it will make all the pain go away?”
I drank all night.
Sometimes the effort of staying sober is just too hard for this alcoholic.
I don’t know when I will stop.
God help me.
Jomtien, 4th January, 2010
04 Jan 2010 1 Comment
Today I have been sober for 127 days.
MOBI’S STORY – (PART 30)
THE RETIREMENT YEARS (CONTINUED)
“The aftermath of Mei”
I omitted to report in my blog of January 1st that during my argument with Mei, just before she stormed out of the house, she told me the disturbing news that she had purchased the house in her own name rather than my company name. This was ostensibly because she claimed that the lawyer was too slow in getting my company registered and if the house sale wasn’t completed by the agreed contract date, I would lose my deposit. I was furious with her for not telling me about this before, especially as we had been talking regularly on the phone. She offered no rational explanation, and I started to wonder what the truth of the matter really was.
I drove into Bangkok that night and went straight to the bar where Mei used to work on Soi 33. I have no idea why I went there, but at the time it seemed like the logical place to go and drown my sorrows, and also maybe to see if I could learn anything new about Mei from her old workmates.
I had this terrible feeling deep down that she had been playing games with me from the very start and that the ‘cousin’ was almost certainly her boyfriend, or even her husband. He was a good looking guy; I could see the chemistry; the interaction between them when they were together; I saw the pain in his eyes when he had to leave us together that first night and she had also let it drop that he had accompanied her to her home in Loei. She mentioned that he had driven my car, and he was also was on hand to sort things out when the jeep broke down in Loei.
Add to all this the fact that since I had returned from England, she wouldn’t let me touch her, let alone do anything more intimate, and she had been picking fights with me at every turn since I had arrived.There was no doubt in my mind that I once again, I had committed a right royal screw up. I also recalled an occasion when I had to wait for her for over an hour outside her flat at Bang Na because she told me that I would not be allowed in by security. There was also the inordinate amount of time she spent there on an almost daily basis. So despite my predisposition not to believe the worst of my ladies, I could now see that two and two equaled a huge, glaring “four”. I had been duped and played for a fool yet again.
I encountered some of her ex “work colleagues” in the bar where she used work, and told them what she had been up to, and I discerned from their lack of reaction that it came as no surprise to anyone in that bar, except of course to muggings Mobi. They all seemed to know what sort of person she was. As ever, I was the last to know.
There was a girl sitting either side of me and I drank a huge amount of whisky. As I became ever more intoxicated I started crying in their arms, and, being the thoughtful, loving things that they were, I was given much solace.They were such little darlings, never tiring of providng me with comfort in the time honoured, Soi 33 fashion – as long as the expensive drinks kept flowing.
By 2.a.m I was completely plastered, but that didn’t stop me staggering back to my car, and amazingly driving all the way back to my house at Thana City. I recall that when I finally made it to the housing estate, I spent at least an hour hour driving round and round desperately trying to locate my house. I remember thinking that if I didn’t find the house soon I would give up and sleep in the car. Mercifully, I did eventually track it down.
(I have written elsewhere in this blog that up to a couple of years ago, I was what is known as a “functioning alcoholic”; that is, an alcoholic who is still able to hold his job down and keep his life together, which in my particular case included never passing out or having blackouts, and the dubious ability to drive when drunk and never having accidents. But all that was to change quite soon.)
I didn’t sleep much and woke at dawn, with a horrendous hangover, and my mental state was not good. There was a gang of people still working on landscaping the garden, putting a concrete base down for parking and so on. They were also related to Mei in some way, and they greeted me with a cheery smile, and told me that Mei would be back soon. I asked them when?, but they just assured me that it would be very soon.
I called her; she told me that she was not well and that all our arguments had made her very sick. So she would stay away for a while and try to get better and get some rest. I insisted that she came back that day, but she refused. I called her back several times to reiterate my request, but she still refused, and eventually became tired of my whining and shut off her phone.
I was devastated. I knew with an unnerving certainty that she was with the Thai “cousin”, and that I had been taken to the cleaners. I was still besotted with her, and I was aching inside. But at the same time I knew for sure that she was a bad person, and I resolved to get as far away from her and the house as possible, and start anew
Having made this momentous decision, I packed up all my personal effects, including the stuff I had just moved in there the day before from my friend’s place, and loaded it into my jeep and drove away. I checked into a hotel off Sukhumvit Road and then went to a bar near Soi 15 and started drinking. A couple of hours later I decided to call Dave. He kindly came out and joined me and tried to comfort and counsel me as I drowned my sorrows. When I told him what had happened he urged me to not leave all the stuff I had paid for at the house, and also to see what I could do about reclaiming the house. It made sense, but in my drunken state I wanted to forget the whole sorry affair, chalk it up to experience and start over.
The next day, when I sobered up a little, I was still missing Mei like crazy, and decided once again to call her and beg her to go back to the house. I managed to get though to her and I begged and begged, but she told me that she would not come back yet, and I would have to wait until she was ready to return. She knew that I had taken my things from the house and asked me where I was staying, but I refused to tell her as by now I was starting to have some concerns for my safety. At length I realised that there was no way I would be able to persuade her to return in the foreseeable future and I truly knew that the game was up.
I re-thought Dave’s suggestion, and decided that I would return to the house and see what stuff I could take away. It was a Sunday, and when I arrived there I found that the landscaping crew had finished and gone, and that the front gate was locked and chained. I climbed over the gate, but the doors were all locked. I tried the side doors, and had a bit of luck and found one door that came open with a bit of force. Once inside I was able to open the front door, and then packed up all the smallish stuff that I could carry and crammed it into my jeep. I left the heavy stuff, (furniture, televisions, fridges, cookers etc), but took all the kitchen utensils, crockery, glasses and small electrical gadgets such as rice cookers, and also all the bed linen and towels.
I was quite anxious to get away from the house as quickly as possible with my car load, as I had no idea if Mei or her people had left any instructions with the security guards to stop me taking anything; or whether someone would turn up and confront me. In the event I drove away without incident and took the carload back to my friend’s house,where once more it was put into storage.
How I managed to accomplish this is one of life’s great mysteries. I was totally exhausted, very hung over, emotionally traumatized and becoming increasingly ill from the effects of my recent bladder operation. I had a lot of pain in that area, and I was now starting to pass blood. The internal wound had not yet healed. On top of all this I was, and still am, an insulin dependent diabetic, and had chronic heart disease. By rights I should have collapsed from mental or physical exhaustion,- or maybe both. My “Higher Power” was sure taking care of me during that tumultuous period.
Once I had moved out of the new house for good, I leased a very up market apartment on Soi 15 and settled in alone to start my life over, yet again.
I had been persuaded by friends to see what I could do about recovering my house, and contacted the lawyer I had previously used to set up the company for the purposes of buying the house. She confirmed to me that Mei had indeed gone ahead and purchased the house in her own name rather than the company, (which had been ready for ages), and that Mei now held house title deeds – the ‘Chanod’.
I lost confidence in this lawyer, and wasn’t sure how to proceed, but dear old Dave came to my rescue. Dave ran a recording studio, and his right hand man was a Thai guy named Chat who spoke good English and was a bit of a ‘wise boy’ with good connections. Dave told Chat what had happened, and Chat said that he thought he could find someone to help me.
The next day Chat told me that he had a good friend who he was sure he could help. A meeting was arranged, and it transpired that the friend was a colonel in the military police who turned up to the meeting sporting a gleaming military uniform, complete with rows of medal ribbons, in a chauffeur driven Mercedes Benz, and a small entourage of military cops. His plan was to send a group of soldiers to protect the house, and another group to track down Mei. A third group would journey up to Loei and see whether Mei had decided to hide out at her family home. While his military style ‘campaign’ was taking root, the Colonel proposed to accompany me to the police station to file an oficial report against Mei.
Of course all this needed funding, and I handed over not an inconsiderable amount of money to put these plans into action and to pay the expenses of all his men.
I was instructed to gather together as much documentary evidence as I could find to support my police complaint. I actually had a fair volume of papers, ranging from the receipt for my house deposit (which contained the wording that the house was to be purchased in my company’s name), copies of all the bank transfers that were sent to Mei’s bank account, and even copies of Mei’s ID card.
Then the colonel asked me about my jeep. I told him that the car had been bought in Mei’s name, (she had told me that farangs could not own cars in Thailand), and that I did not have the vehicle ownership documents. The colonel advised me that it was very dangerous for me to continue to drive the car around Bangkok, as Mei might arrange for someone to track me down, take the car back and even possibly kill me. He insisted that he take the jeep and keep it stored of sight on military premises until this business had been settled. I had little choice but to agree with this course of action, and that was the last time I ever saw that vehicle.
A day or two later, the Colonel took me to the Police station near to where Mei used to live, and we spent almost the whole day there, making the report which included taking evidence from witnesses (including a house agent at Thana City, who confirmed my version of events)), copying, cross referencing and attaching all the supporting documents, and so on. The police then used their authority to gain access to Mei’s bank accounts. They discovered that Mei had withdrawn a very large sum of money only a few days ago, and all the accounts now had nil balances. A warrant was issued for Mei’s arrest, which was duly sent to her last known address.
The remainder of this sorry story was played out over the next two to three years, so I will try to be brief in describing how it all panned out as I do not wish to overly bore you.
I was advised by Chat that they had been unable to track down Mei, but that they had been to her house in Loei where her mother asserted that she had not seen her for a very long time and had no idea of her whereabouts.
I subsequently discovered that they had lied to me and in fact found her almost immediately and shook her down and forced her to pay over most of the money she had secreted away. I am also reliably informed that the colonel took Mei as his lover for a while, but where she is now I have not the faintest idea. She could well be dead.
Chat told me that the colonel’s ‘team’ needed money to hire a lawyer who was going to set up a new company for me, so when everything was settled through the courts, they would be able to transfer the title deeds directly into my new company. Chat even brought me company papers to sign, but it was all part of their latest deception. Chat kept informing me that everything was proceeding slowly through the courts, (even giving me dates when the court had found in my favour) and periodically he hit me up for more money to fund the ongoing legal process and other activities that were being undertaken by the Colonel and his gang.
The costs were mounting, and months came and went and I heard nothing except these demands for yet more money. I was becoming more and more suspicious of what was really happening, but felt powerless to stop the process. After all, for most of the time, I was either drunk or severely hung over, and was incapable of logical thought or making difficult decisions.
During this period I got to know Chat quite well, and as he had been Dave’s right hand man for many years, I completely trusted him, but started to wonder about the colonel.
One day Chat made a proposal to me for a new business venture concerning the building of retirement homes for expatriates in Ayudhaya, and it wasn’t long before I became immersed in this new project. Once again the money started to flow. Chat and I made a number of trips to Ayudhaya, inspected a number of riverside plots of land that were allegedly for sale, met with architects, potential business partners, and even met a high level bank official whose bank ostensibly was going to finance the major part of the operation – after I had personally invested the initial capital.
Chat arranged to set up and equip a small office , complete with full time secretary. I commenced work on the project and if I hadn’t caught Chat out in a stupid but blatant lie, my suspicions would never have been aroused.
Once I had caught Chat lying about something, my instincts were alerted, and it wasn’t long before I realised that the whole project was yet another scam – a pack of lies – carefully planned by Chat to extricate money from gullible, alcoholic Mobi
His biggest mistake was introducing me to a lawyer to handle the legal work on the project, who then decided that I may be a better ‘touch’ than Chat. The lawyer made me aware that Chat was a charlatan, and that the whole project was full of inconsistencies and deceit.
So I called time on the project, but held back on informing Chat that I knew what he had been up to. It wouldn’t have served any useful purpose and could have even served me badly, like me ending up getting severely or fatally hurt.
So where did that leave my house business?
I asked the lawyer who had blown the gaff on Chat’s little con if he could help me find out what was going on with my house. I gave him copies of all the relevant documents, including the police report and asked him to investigate.
It cost yet more money, but at least this lawyer did genuinely earn some of the money I paid him. He quickly established that no court action whatsoever had been taken in respect of my house, and he told me that if anything had really been done, I would have been called as a witness.
The lawyer sent his people to see where Chat lived and discovered that Chat now had the Jeep and was driving it every day. I called Chat and asked him where the jeep was. He told me it was with the vehicle registration office as the annual registration had expired and the colonel couldn’t renew it without the car documents. The lawyer told me the jeep had a current tax paper on the windscreen, so it further confirmed what I already knew – that they had tracked down Mei and extracted the car papers from her.
The whole affair was becoming murkier and murkier, but I had to be careful. These people who were deceiving me were powerful and dangerous.
At long last, my real case was heard in the courts. My lawyer had a very smart colleague represent me in court and I was briefed in advance on the questions I would be asked.
As they say, I finally had “my day in court”. It was a nerve wracking business, standing in the witness box in a Thai court and being cross examined by my lawyer as well as the panel of judges, but I managed to pull it off quite well.
I was told that there was a good chance that the court would rule in my favour, simply because the case was undefended. Despite the court summonses that were sent to Mei’s last known address, she never responded or came to court to defend her actions, as to do so would have resulted in her arrest on criminal charges, assuming she wasn’t already dead.
There was no decision byb the panel of judges on the day, and we had to wait for weeks for the final court ruling. It was unanimous and they found in my favour. The court ruled that the house should be put up for sale by official public auction and the proceeds paid over to me.
But before this could happen, new land title deeds had to be issued to replace those taken by Mei, and this laborious and difficult bureaucratic process took several months.
In the meantime the house was depreciating badly as it had been uninhabited for over two years.
When the public auction was eventually held, my lawyer had arranged to put a reserve price on it to avoid it being sold off too cheaply and as there were very few people attending the auction the reserve price was not offered and the house was withdrawn for sale.
Under court rules, I was allowed to do this only once, and the next time the was auctioned, it would have to be sold, regardless of how low the ‘highest’ bid was.
And so started the last little twist in this nightmarish saga. It transpired that these so-called public auctions are not really ‘public’, as the only people who are aware of them are court officials who are in league with certain property investors who will attend the auction and make ridiculously low bids and thus buy these court auctioned properties at way below their market value.
My lawyer was fully aware of this little piece of corruption but had obviously decided not to share this information with his client. His agreed fees for representing my interests were on a contingency basis, with a guaranteed minimum which had been paid up front. I had previously checked and established that his rates were pretty standard in such circumstances, so I naturally thought that it would be in both our interests to get the highest price possible for the house. But I was unprepared for the wiliness of a Thai scam artist when he gets a stupid farang in his clutches.
After the house was withdrawn at the first auction the lawyer told me that he might have a friend who would be interested in buying the house as an investment and indicated a that he would pay a price within my anticipated price range. His friend had apparently agreed to make a respectable bid and I breathed a sigh of relief that we were at long last near the end of this distasteful and protracted business.
But the day before the auction, the lawyer called me to say that he was now informed that his friend would not, after all, attend the auction. He warned me that the price I would get for the house would be extremely low. I was devastated, and barely had time to digest this piece of bad news when he called me back to propose a new deal.
He now declared his hand and now started to put the screws on me. On top of the substantial fees he had already been paid, he was now asking me if I would agree to triple his fee if he guaranteed that his friend would turn up and buy my house at the previously quoted price.
I was between a rock and a hard place, so I reluctantly agreed.
The money I eventually received back from the sale of that house was barely 40 percent of the money I had originally expended, and it had consumed my life for over two years. One of the few truisms that my next wife was to tell me, (yes, by the time this house business drew to an end, I was well into my fifth marriage), was that I would have been better off just walking away from it at the start, rather than having to suffer all that aggravation and anguish for two years. I believe she was right.
As for Chat, well a little while later, I took Dave out for a meal, and related the whole sorry account of how his “number one man” had cheated me not once, but several times over, and was to that very day driving around in Jeep that I had paid for.
Dave said very little, intimated that he didn’t really believe what I had told him and continued to work with Chat until quite recently, when he stopped doing commercial work – and even to this day, Chat is still in regular contact with Dave.
I never really expected that Dave would part company with Chat as I knew he would not be able to replace him. No, I wasn’t thinking that he would do that, but I did think that he might apologise for his part in my suffering. After all, he had introduced Chat to me and assured me that he would be of great service to me.To this day he has never mentioned this affair again, or Chat’s ignominious and deceitful role in it.
Thanks Dave – a good one!
Jomtien, 1st January, 2009. What will 2010 bring to us all, I wonder?
01 Jan 2010 2 Comments
Today I have been sober for 124 days.
Yesterday I received a call from my friend whose wife is acting as an intermediary with my wife. He told me that my wife was getting very ‘het up’ about having to wait for her expenses to be reimbursed, and wanted the intermediary to pay her up front, before the bills were paid. Of course she was refused this request. She has been getting progressively more unreasonable and finding fault with our agreed arrangements. I wondered if she is once again drinking too much. She also asked the intermediary if she was sure that I still wanted to sell the house!! Again, all symptoms of an alcohol disturbed mind.
Later evening, I met up with a couple of my AA friends with their girlfriends in Jomtien, a few minutes’ walk from my condo.
I took them on a tour of the “Mobi condo” and then we jumped in the car and drove back along Jomtien beach to look for somewhere to eat. We finally found a lovely little place, near Jomtien Boat House, and had an excellent meal, with Mobi in particular, stuffing himself silly.
It was around 10.30 p.m. by the time we had finished eating; my friends wished to return to Pattaya to watch the midnight festivities, so they jumped on a baht Bus, and I drove home.
At midnight I went out on my balcony and had a spectacular view of two different firework displays, one on Jomtien beach, and the other on the North side, presumably Pattaya, but I am not sure.
I then put on a movie – Godfather part 1, and lay in bed hoping for an early sleep, but I only succeeding in dropping off at around 2.30 a.m. after I took a sleeping draft.
Consequently, today I did not make the morning meeting – yet again.
Yesterday was notable for me for several reasons. First and foremost it was the first festive season I can recall that I have lived through, without the aid of alcohol. And what is more, at no time did I even hanker after a drink; I was quite content to sip soft drinks and water. Also of significance for me was the fact that I enjoyed a long meal with two couples and at no time did I have the urge to get away and slink off to a bar and find some female companionship. This has always been the case in the past when I have found myself in a group, but with no female companion. I really enjoyed the meal and the company, and was happy to be with them ‘alone’. Finally I had no desire hit the highlights after my friends departed, and was happy to go home to ‘ring in’ the New Year all by myself.
For now my depression seems to have lifted, and I am quite happy with my own company. Who knows how long this state of contentment will continue? Fingers crossed.
Today, Dave’s ex wife called me from the South of Thailand. I feared the worst, but it was mainly a call to wish me a Happy New year, and to update me on Dave’s condition. She told me that some of Dave’s friends had turned up on Christmas Day with food and booze, and that Dave had indulged in alcohol, (wine), but not to excess. She also confirmed that Dave had been drinking beer regularly, but again, in moderation. She told me that she wasn’t sure when she would return to Bangkok and asked when I was planning to go there. She also told me that she hadn’t heard from Dave since Christmas Day (she went down south on Boxing Day) when his friends came round, so she didn’t know what his current state of health was. I told her that I had no plans to see Dave, as it will only further encourage him to drink. He would think that he could continue to rely on my support. However, if he collapsed again or if anything life threateneing should occur then she should let me know, and I would come to Bangkok to see what I could do.
Her call led me to contemplate a few things. I was pretty upset with his ‘so called friends’ who disappear for months at a time when he could have done with their support, and then turn up on Christmas Day and help him to get drunk. They know as well as I do how precarious Dave’s health is, and I believe their act, although undoubtedly well meaning, was irresponsible. But all of these ‘friends’ are heavy drinkers themselves, so it is inevitable that they would do something like this – I sort of expected it. It is probably just as well that I have cut off communications, as I am quite sure I would have had a major row with them, had I been with Dave at the time. More to the point, according to his lady, (who I have no reason to doubt), Dave was definitely drinking again on a regular basis. His lady told me he was controlling his consumption. But I have seen this so many times; he even lies to everyone about how much he is really drinking. Over time, maybe a few weeks, his consumption will get higher and higher, and eventually he will collapse again, and the next time it will almost certainly be fatal.
I think I am going to lose Dave in 2010.
If you look at the “comments” on my December 26th, 2009 blog, you will see the following comment, which I have re-printed here in the body of my blog for clarity:
stephanie, on December 26th, 2009 at 4:47 pm Said:
Dude, you a self pitying pathetic man. I found your blog a while back and read most of it. The way you deal with people, from you’re ex-wives / girlfriends, to your life long pals is appalling. All you spout is poor me, poor me and dont think about how you treat others. The way you left you wife was horrible. The way you are dealing with your friend Dave is horrible. You seem to paint people as black or white, good or evil. Your latest fling is the same. We went from a great girl who didn’t want money to a money grabbing bitch. Look at yourself. Why have you had six failed marriages?
From what i’ve read your wife doesn’t seem that bad. The worse you’ve said about her seem fairly normal in any relationship. You accuse her (and all theThai women of being unfaithful) yet you state you had fun on the side. Your wife kept a nice home, while you were getting drunk every night. You are lucky she stgayed with you!!!
You paint a very sorry picture of yourself. No wonder your alone. I hope you spend this time to look at yourself and stop blaming other people. Maybe then you will come out of this as happy person who DESERVES a relationship.
Mobi, on January 1, 2010 at 12.50 pm Replied:
Stephanie,
Thank you for your comments.
I have already replied in my blog in general terms that although to some extent you are correct in your accusations, you seem to have missed the point that I have never claimed that I was anything other than a pathetic self centred drunk, and to my knowledge I have never blamed anyone for what has happened to me in my life.
In fact since I have been sober I no longer bear any resentments against anyone I have known in my life.
As for your assertion that: “your wife doesn’t seem that bad”, you obviously have taken no account of what I have written about my two daughters’ opinions of their mother, and the fact that they both totally supported what I did.
I make no claims for myself, but I can assure you that both my daughters are intelligent, well balanced and mature adults, and they have mercifully risen above their mother’s domineering behaviour and the mental cruelty they suffered at her hands, and lead happy, meaningful lives. I could tell you stories that would make you hair curl about my wife’s behaviour to her children but decided that I would draw the line at that level of detail.
Yes, I accused her of being unfaithful because she clearly was – by her own and her family’s admittance. And remember, when she left me in Thailand to go and shack up with some rich customer, I was left at home looking after her young daughter. (By the way, did I ever relate how my wife finally turned up back home with a brand new car?)
I am no saint, and have never claimed to be. But my own unfaithful dalliances have always followed a familiar pattern. With very few exceptions I have always remained faithful until I knew without doubt, that the person I was living with had made the first move down the path to infidelity.
I was totally faithful to Noi until she became a night club singer and stopped coming home at night. And even then, when we moved to the UK I was faithful for well over twenty years, before I lapsed. I was so unhappy and when intimate relationships between ceased, I sought a bit of occasional solace when I went away on my business jaunts.
In a similar way, I strayed in my previous relationships, AFTER the ladies in question strayed first. And it is exactly the same with my latest marriage, as you will see in the coming days.
As for Dave, you seem to have conveniently forgotten the fact that not only have I supported him, both emotionally and financially for many years, but that everyone, from his own brother, to his close Doctor friend, and all my AA colleagues, have advised me that I am doing the right thing and it may be Dave’s only hope for survival. I think your judgment here is extremely harsh. I still believe that Bob’s motives in disagreeing with this course of action were entirely cynical and self seeking, and he has told me on a number of occasions that he fully expects Dave to die soon, so “why not get his tapes done before he goes?”
I am now alone through choice. I didn’t have to leave my wife, I didn’t have to throw my last lady out (well hardly ‘throw” as she left a lot richer than she arrived, complete with a new motorcycle and notebook computer), and yes, as ever I was fooled into believing she may be different, but she clearly wasn’t and never stopped trying to tap me up for money, even though I paid her a very generous monthly allowance, had flown her to see her mother in Surat Thani and bought many clothes and other stuff for her and her family.
I have already tried to explain that depression and alcoholism are illnesses, and I would have hoped that some allowance may have been made for my condition when judging me and casting me as some kind of evil bastard.
Finally Stephanie, if my blog continues to bring out so much anger in you, I respectfully suggest that you stop reading it, as it would much more beneficial for you to be happy, joyous and serene in your life than continually getting yourself all worked up over some pathetic old alcoholic’s foolish exploits.
MOBI’S STORY – (PART 29)
THE RETIREMENT YEARS (CONTINUED)
In the end, it wasn’t quite as bad as I had first feared when I sat on that bench in the Arrivals area, waiting in the increasingly vain hope that Mei would appear and carry me off to my new life of bliss.
I didn’t know what to do, and what is more, I suddenly realised, with a sinking feeling in my stomach, that I didn’t even know how to find the house that I ‘thought’ I had bought.
I kept trying to call her, and after about ten minutes, to my total surprise, I was through and I could hear her beautiful voice on my mobile. A voice a few moments earlier I feared I would never hear again. I asked her where she was, and she told me that she was at the new house and couldn’t come to the airport because she was too tired! She told me to get a taxi and meet her there. I told her I didn’t know the way, but after I flagged a cab, I got him to speak to her and I was at long last on my way.
At this point I had mixed feelings. I was still pretty upset that she hadn’t come to meet me, and couldn’t understand her ‘reason’ for not coming. But on the other hand, she hadn’t disappeared with all my money, and I was now on my way to my new home, my new wife, and a new life.
We took a few wrong turns, and had terrible trouble finding the house in the pitch dark in such massive “moo bahn” , but we eventually found it, by which time I was utterly exhausted.
Mei didn’t seen particularly happy to see me, didn’t rush over and hug the wounded beloved and benefactor, and was almost offhand in her attitude. I couldn’t help showing my annoyance at her failure to meet me, especially when considering the trouble it had taken me to find the place. She summarily dismissed my protests, and just said that she had been very busy getting the house sorted, and was too tired to make such a long journey.
There was a Thai guy hanging around, doing some work on the house, and I wondered at his presence this late at night. Mei introduced him to me as her cousin, and told me he had been supervising the work being done on the house.
She had certainly spent a lot of money and the house was pretty much finished. The kitchen was fitted out, as was the lounge and bedrooms, and we even had UBC satellite television up and running.
I was starving and we agreed to go out for a meal. The cousin came along and I drove the Jeep, which had apparently caused much trouble when Mei had returned to Loei to sort out the house repairs up there. During the meal I couldn’t help noticing the surreptitious exchange of glances and smiles that kept taking place between Mei and the ‘cousin.’ I started to wonder what was going on.
Back at the house, again I noticed the exchange of glances, and even more apparent was the misery on the face of the cousin when he left us for the night. It seemed he didn’t want to go.
When I finally hit the sack, Mei unaccountably put a large bolster pillow between us and refused to touch me. I was too exhausted to think too much about it and fell into a deep sleep.
Upon awakening, I found that Mei had been up for ages and was busy cooking a meal. The ‘cousin’ was back, and I told Mei that I wanted to collect a lot stuff that I had left at my friend’s house in Bangkok, before I went to the UK. Her cousin offered the services of his pickup truck and off we went.
Back at the house, I found Mei in in an increasingly bad mood, and she found fault with everything I said, and seemed determined to make my life miserable and fight me at every turn.
I was sick, confused, and becoming increasingly distraught. What was she up to? Had I done anything to cause this change in behaviour? What was going on with this so-called cousin? I had spent millions on buying and furnishing a new house for us to live in, yet she seemed so ungrateful and angry at me for some unaccountable reason, and there was a complete absence of any sign of affection from her. My mood turned very ominous and grim.
In a desperate attempt to make her happy and to try to make things right, I suggested that we drive to Central Department store in Bang Na and do some shopping, and buy her the new ‘up market’ mobile phone, which she had been pestering me for. She begrudgingly accepted my offer and off we went. I duly bought the expensive mobile, and some other stuff that she wanted, and then we went into another telecom shop to see what could be done about setting up a internet connection using a mobile sim card, but for some unaccountable reason she suddenly went berserk with me and stormed out of the shop
Later I decided to have an early night and suggested Mei join me. Maybe we could make it up in bed. She followed me upstairs, and after showering, once again placed the bolster between us on the bed.
I exploded. We had a terrible row and I accused her of not wanting to sleep with me, and demanded to know what was going on. Mei was also a feisty person, and she stormed back at me and she tried to justify everything she was doing. It was all complete nonsense, and as I countered all her arguments with common sense and logic, she at length told me that she couldn’t stay there anymore, and got dressed and went down stairs. She asked me for the keys to the Jeep. I asked her where she was going, but she just said that she had to get away from me and the house because she was sick and couldn’t sleep there. I refused to give her the car keys, despite her entreaties over and over again to give them to her, but I wouldn’t have it. If she took the car I would be stranded there. So in the end she stormed off in an even bigger rage, and walked down the road towards the main gate.
After a few minutes I decided there was no way I could stay in that isolated house alone, and I got into the car to drive into Bangkok and get really pissed. I met Mei on the way, still walking, and offered her a lift the main entrance, where she could get a taxi, but she refused, so I drove off.
I wasn’t to know it at that time, but as I made my way to the bars in Bangkok , that was the very last time that I was to set eyes on Mei.
