Wan was very upset when I told her that I didn’t want to see her any more.
She told me that she was prepared to live with me in Pattaya, and that she was planning to come and meet me here to discuss everything with me
She that unless I had another girlfriend she was sure we could sort things out. So I decided the best thing I could do was to come clean, because at least it would bring the affair to finality, even though it would probably hurt her more than I wished to.
When I told her about Tan, she was very upset and very angry. She said she now realised that I was a very bad person and she didn’t blame my wife for all the things she had done to me – she said I deserved it. She also said that all Englishmen are bastards and that she would never trust another one.
I guess it was all predictable, and I feel very sad about it all. But when all is said and done, yes I have probably hurt her a lot and dashed her dreams that I would be her personal, ‘on-stream ATM’.
When I was with her, I was more than generous so she has little really to complain about.
I haven’t heard from her since that tirade, so I hope and assume she had come to terms with it all.
Now to Tan.
Tan has just turned twenty two, she comes from Nakhon Sawan, so she is not ethnic Issan, and does not speak Isaan.
She is a very eye-catching dark skinned girl with a lovely sexy figure and a flair for dressing in an eye-catching manner. I have never seen her badly dressed.
She speaks and reads fair to good English, which was mainly mainly learned from school, and as such she has a strong Thai accent.
Tan is a feisty girl, (as I like them), but has a nice, generous, thoughtful nature and invariably sports an infectious smile. She is confident and knows what she wants in life.
Tan graduated from High school in Nakhon Sawan and attended college in Bangkok to study accountancy.
Unfortunately, like so many before her, she shacked up with a Thai man who got her pregnant, which meant that her boyfriend sought sexual comfort elsewhere. By the time the the baby was born her boyfriend had found a new woman and was a bad memory.
She was devastated, took her baby back home to live and dropped out of college.
Tan comes from a large family, all of which as far as I can determine, are quite well to do. She has a twin sister who is still at school and another sister who goes to university in Bangkok.
Her parents are substantial land owners, and they all have quality houses and drive modern vehicles.
When Tan had been living at home for a few months, one of her distant relatives, an elder woman who was married to an Englishman, came to see her and asked her if she would be interested in working with her at a new bar she was opening on Mabprachan Lake.
Tan had always been the family ‘rebel’. For example, when she was thirteen, she decided to dye her hair blond and her mother nearly had a fit and made her change it back to black.
She has also had several tattoos, has a stud in her tongue, and a ring in her stomach. All this had been carried out with stealth, against her family’s wishes.
Now she wanted to go to Pattaya with her ‘aunt’ but her mother refused to let her go. So when her mother went out one day, Tan packed her clothes and followed her aunt to Pattaya. This was almost exactly a year ago.
She stared working in the bar/restaurant last April and worked there for ten months, before stopping work when she found , what she thought, was a new, long term boyfriend, a young man from England.
I first met Tan very soon after she started work, and we immediately hit it off. I was keen on her from day one, but I couldn’t really follow up as I was still living at home with Dang, although by that time it was a question of ‘when’, not ‘if’ I would be leaving home.
I did take Tan out to Pattaya a couple of times for a meal, but always returned her to the bar after the date and went home.
I was planing to follow up seriously with Tan, once I had left home. I saw her quite often at her bar and we also kept in touch by sms. The plan was for us to take a brief holiday in Nakhon Sawn and then take it from there.
In the event, I was so traumatized when I finally left home last July that I didn’t want to see anyone, and I even put my phone on permanent voice mail so that no-one could call me. Tan tried a few times and then gave up.
It was after this that she found a new boyfriend, and by the time I reappeared on the scene, Tan was working as a cook in the restaurant as she no longer wished to be a bar girl in view of her new relationship.
The boyfriend was back in England, sending her money every month and after a while, Tan decided to move back home to look after her daughter and await her boyfriend’s return to Thailand.
Something went wrong and the relationship started to founder. Tan decided to break it off and one day she sent me an sms.
This was the start of an ‘on again’ off again’ period for us as we kept agreeing to meet, but she would cancel out at the last moment.
The old relationship was in its death throes and Tan was confused.
Finally she broke it off completely and our communications increased. All of these events led to me to make the decision to go and see her at her home in Nakhon Sawan last week,which resulted in me bringing her back to Pattaya.
Many of my readers have strongly advised me to stay alone and just pay for sex when I need it, and cannot understand my desire to always have someone living with me.
This is good advice but I doubt I can ever take it.
Many men, and I am certainly one, can never live alone for any period of time. If we do, we become depressed, very lonely and invariably end up doing harmful things to ourselves, such as excessive drinking or taking drugs.
I cannot explain why, but as long as I have a ‘live-in’, however bad she may be, I am much happier and the worst excesses of my behaviour are curtailed.
We have been together one week, and so far so good. She is a really nice girl and I have been happy with her. We have been out several times both as a couple and with friends and I have enjoyed socializing in places other than girlie bars, for the first time in years.
Tan wishes to go back to college to resume her accounting studies and today she registered at a local college which will involve full time attendance when the new term commences next month.
This is fine by me as it will give us both space, and she will be able to mix with people of her own age. As it is, she already has quite a few friends in Pattaya, who I am encouraging her to spend time with.
When she is with me, we have ‘real’ conversations, and I believe we get on well with each other.
I completely understand the basis of this relationship and I am content. I fully appreciate that it will probably turn ‘pear shaped’ at some point, but until that happens I will enjoy myself and try to get my life under control.
I have know so many Thai ladies in my life, and I know that I will have good shot with this one. She is genuinely nice and I believe she will stick by her side of the deal.
So far, with good reason, she is much more concerned that I will break the deal.
So, gentle readers, don’t hold back…. tell me what an idiot I am…..
MARDIE (Part 7)
Mardie had told me on the telephone that she might find it difficult to meet me at the airport as he had a prior engagement. I assured her that she shouldn’t worry about it, as by now I knew the way and in any case I wanted to show her that I was perfectly capable of getting there by myself.
(One of the many sources of conflict between us was the fact that I would argue about the correct way to go somewhere invariably i would get lost).
I navigated my way to her apartment in Queens successfully, but was somewhat put out when her flat mate answered the door and advised me that Mardie was not home.
As I hadn’t seen Mardie for more than two months it didn’t bode well that she wasn’t home to greet me, even though she had suggested as much when she said she might not be able to come to the airport. Her flat mate let me in and told me that Mardie would be back in an hour or so.
I asked her where she was, but received a monosyllabic reply which told me nothing; so I sat down, feeling very weary and disappointed to wait.
Sure enough, an hour later Mardie arrived home, escorted by a smart looking guy in a suit, who was introduced to me before making a quick exit.
Mardie apologised for not being there and explained that she was out with the ‘date’ and they were held up badly in traffic in upstate New York.
Things went from bad to worse when Mardie told me that I could spend the night at her place but tomorrow I would have to move as her flatmate had objected to me staying there, even just for a week or so.
Things were not going well at all and no amount of entreaties from me would change her mind, so I became resigned to finding somewhere to stay on the following morning.
Mardie told me that tomorrow, which was Saturday, she would take me downtown and help me find a cheap room, and with that both women disappeared to their bedrooms and left me to kip on the sofa for the night.
So it was with a heavy heart that we lugged all my belongings onto the subway, and travelled downtown where, after a quick look around some seedy hotels I finally settled for a cheap room in the YMCA.
As soon as I had checked in, Mardie gave me a quick peck on the cheek, told me she had a pre- arranged appointment and that I could come over and see her the next day, but I should call first to make sure she was home.
I sat in my room wondering what the hell I had got myself into, but I was young, naïve and full of optimism and decided to make the best of it. I resolved to do my utmost to see if I could recapture my beloved’s obvious lack of feelings for me.
So the next day I called ahead and once again Mardie was out, but her flat mate told me to come on over and that Mardie would be back later.
Somewhat to my surprise, Mardie was there when I arrived, but she looked very glum and serious and I feared the worst.
She told me that she didn’t want to say anything when I arrived yesterday as I was very tired from my journey, but that she had been thinking about our relationship a lot lately and thought it better if we didn’t see each other for a while. She said that I should go to Montreal, find somewhere to live, get a job and once I was settled than I could call her and then maybe I could come back for a visit.
She said that my life was too unsettled and in any case she was very busy at work and wouldn’t be able to spend much time with me.
I asked her about her other ‘dates’, but she insisted that she had no serious boyfriends. She said that she had a few men friends’’ who took her out on dates but they were all casual relationships and that she hadn’t slept with any of them.
I tried to argue with her and suggested I stayed for at least a week, but she told me that the whole worry of me uprooting my life and coming to the USA had been getting her down. She was getting a lot of migraines and that the stress of it all had caused her to break out in acne, which I could see, was a fact.
We argued back and forth for a while, but the discussion was becoming increasingly acrimonious, and the end I acceded to her suggestion and took off back to my room at the ‘Y’ to sort out my bus journey to Montreal.
Mardie had agreed that we could keep in touch by telephone, and that once I was settled then I would be welcome to come over for weekend for a visit.
This seemed to be the best I could hope for in the circumstances, but I was far from a ‘happy camper’ when I made my way to the Greyhound bus terminal two evenings later, for the overnight trip to Montreal Canada and the start of my new life – all alone.
All went well until we arrived at the Canadian border.
First the American customs and immigration officers entered the bus, gave us a quick perusal and disappeared shortly after.
The bus drove on a few yards to the Canadian side and the Canadian officials entered the bus.
Of course there was a daily free flow of people over the border with Canad. The Americans and Canadians were not required to carry passports. Everyone was asked to verify their identity by showing a social security card, a driving license, or indeed, any document with their name and address on it.
When they came to me I showed them my British passport. I was asked the purpose of my visit to Canada, and I told them that I was an immigrant. The officer looked at my passport again and asked me if I had an immigrant visa. When I told him that I planned to apply when I got to Montreal, he looked at me with suspicion, and asked me to accompany him off the bus.
I asked him about my luggage, and he told me that the bus would wait for me.
I was led into a room where I told to sit to await the arrival of another, more senior immigration officer.
He was a big bastard and very aggressive. He was holding my passport in his hand and suggested that it was a forgery! I was completely taken aback, and assured him that it was the genuine article.
He examined it again in great detail and the suggested that the photograph didn’t look much like me. I had had the passport a few years and my photograph showed me with a short haircut, whereas now, in keeping with the fashion of the late sixties, my hair was almost down to my shoulders – I was a veritable hippy.
He then accused me of being an American draft dodger from the Vietnam War. Apparently there had been thousands of draft dodgers who had fled across the border and were now living secretly in Canada.
I asked him if I sounded like an American, but when that didn’t impress him I searched in my hand baggage and found a few documents that I hoped would convince him I was English.
He examined them in silence, and then slowly handed them back to me.
“OK Mac.. you’re not a Yank. But why are you going to Canada?”
I repeated my statement that I wanted to apply for an immigrant visa as I wanted to settle in Montreal and work there.
He looked at me and said: “Where are you going to live?”
“I don’t know”.
“Where are you going to work?”
“I don’t have a job yet.”
“What’s you line of work?”
“I’m an accountant.”
This response seemed to impress him and his unfriendly glare seemed to relax a little.
“An accountant, hmm…. Show me your qualifications.”
“I don’t have any, I’m only partly qualified”.
His manner turned sour again.
“You’re an accountant with no qualifications…. Ok buster, how much money have you got with you? Show me.”
I pulled out my wallet. I was carrying about fifty pounds. He wasn’t very impressed, so I tried to explain to him that due to UK foreign exchange regulations I wasn’t allowed to take much money out of the England but that as soon as I became settled and was able to open a Canadian Bank account, I would be able to transfer funds from my account in England to my new account in Canada.
He didn’t seem to understand what I was trying to tell him and I had to repeat it three times, but he still looked at me as though he didn’t believe a word I had said.
Finally, he asked: “So – you have some proof of this money plan?”
I told him that I had some documents in my suitcase that should prove what I was telling him was true.
With that, he stood up and called another officer over. He gave the officer my passport and bus ticket and asked him to go and remove my bags from the bus.
“What about the bus?” I asked. Will they still wait for me?”
“No buster the bus is leaving now, and you are staying here.
You have no visa, no job, you don’t know where you’re gonna live,and you ain’t got no money.
I am not at all sure that we will allow you into Canada, and frankly, I doubt if you will be allowed back into the States, so you may be in for quite a stay at our little border jail!”