The “Home” page is my daily blog. The remaining tabs contain previously blogged, episodic ‘stories’, which are now re-published in chronological order.
It is now over two weeks since I last took a drink and I am feeling pretty confident that this state of affairs can continue indefinitely.
Yesterday I had a good session with my therapist and as ever he gave me some good insights into a number of psychological and emotional issues that continue to bother me.
One of the many things we discussed was my apparent obsessions with women that I hardly knew and my propensity to becoming jealous and angry with women who I had only know a very brief time and couldn’t possibly be in love with.
My therapist has an interesting take on this kind of behaviour and told me that it is not at all unusual, although in my case it may be more extreme than with most men. He explained that my feelings were not prompted by love of the women but by something much more basic – in effect a primordial urge to acquire and propagate. Any perceived threat to this deeply set emotion will trigger off feelings of anger, jealousy which in my case may lead me to pick up a drink.
He recommended a book entitled ‘The Moral Animal’ by Robert Wright which is on the subject of evolutionary psychology. The book explains why many of these puzzling emotions are present in modern day humans and of their origins. I will certainly read this book and maybe some of my readers will also find it illuminating.
Certainly, by getting an understanding of some of my more extreme emotions and their consequences, (ie. getting drunk), I may well be able to avoid similar pitfalls in the future.
My therapist is good value and helps me to put my behaviour and my life into better perspective. I always go away feeling that I my life is not quite the ‘disaster zone’ that I had previously considered it to be and that there are countless others out there who have had similar experiences and women-troubles that have plagued my own life.
Now for the penultimate instalment of my Vignette: Nid.
For a while, it was back to life as usual – as though nothing had ever happened. It was much the same as it had been after the previous debacle when I had caught Nid re-handed in Pattaya with a young Thai man. Nid behaved like she had never been away. She would perform all her ‘wifely’ duties – cooking, cleaning, shopping and the usual bedroom ‘activities’, all in a manner which belied the fact that she had cuckold me at least two times in the most outrageous of circumstances.
So once again I tried to put her unfaithful behaviour to the back of my mind and got stuck into my work with Ittiput and the gang. We continued to ‘burn the midnight oil’ in arranging for yet more artists to perform gigs in Bangkok, and many evenings were spent with Ittiput, his girl friend, Dow and even occasionally Nid, at some noodle or rice shop, excitedly discussing future promotions and putting the finishing touches to current plans. In spite of all that had transpired, Nid was fast becoming accepted as part of the ‘in crowd.’
It was this familiarity with Ittiput and his lady, Dow, that ultimately led to a series of events that finally put paid to marriage number three.
I received a call late one evening, while still at my office, from Dow who asked for the phone number of my room as she wanted to talk to Nid about something. Thinking nothing of it, I gave her the number and carried on with my work. Half an hour later, Nid called to tell me that she had been invited to go out with Dow and some friends and would be home ‘quite late’. I took this as an opportunity to ‘sow a few wild oats’ of my own and eventually arrived home at around 2, a.m. when to my slight consternation, I discovered that Nid was still not back.
I didn’t give it too much thought as I knew she was out with a trusted colleague, but when, upon awakening the following morning, I discovered that Nid still hadn’t returned, that I started to feel those terrible rumblings in my belly. Something wasn’t right. Where was she?
I thought I might find out something at the office and hurried there to ask Ittiput if he knew what was going on with Dow and Nid. Ittiput hadn’t yet arrived, but by questioning a number of the DJ’s and staff I managed to ascertain that some kind of rift had developed between Ittiput and Dow, and that another DJ had been told to record Dow’s radio programme. This all came as a revelation to me as ever since I had known Ittiput and Dow, they had always been together; the two of them shared a passion for pop music and promoting concerts; they seemed to me to be ‘soul mates’. They had always seemed completely inseparable. Yet now I was hearing that they had fallen out – over what I was yet to discover. The day wore on, I heard nothing from Nid or Dow and Ittiput continued to be conspicuous by his absence. I began to wonder what the hell was going on.
Then, in the late afternoon, one of the ‘evening’ DJ’s arrived at the office to record his late night programme. He was a young, handsome, very charming man by the name of Viroj, who was extremely popular on the Bangkok airwaves. I had recently struck up quite a friendship with him as his English was particularly good. As with all Ittiput’s DJ’s, he was from a wealthy upper-class family and had been to one of Bangkok’s top schools.
Viroj seemed to know all the ‘ins and outs’ of Ittiput’s relationship with Dow. He told me that although the two had been together for years, Ittiput had always steadfastly refused to formalise the relationship and marry Dow. If this wasn’t bad enough, a few weeks ago, Ittiput had told Dow that he was engaged to another woman and would be getting married later that year. Dow had been devastated and relations between the two had been very rocky ever since Ittiput’s stunning marriage announcement.
This was all very interesting, but what did it have to do with Nid and her apparent disappearance with Dow? Viroj was quite forthcoming on this as well. He told me that Dow had met a Swiss businessman a couple of weeks back and after Ittiput had delivered his devastating news, Dow had gone to stay with her new ‘boyfriend’ at The Ambassador Hotel on Sukhumvit Road.
So where does Nid fit in to all this?
Viroj told me that he had been chatting with Dow on the phone. He informed me that the Swiss business man was entertaining a rich Arab client in Bangkok and last night he had asked Dow where he could find suitable female ‘partner’ for his client for the night. Dow had no idea about this sort of business, but knew that Nid would be able to provide her with some contacts. So she had duly called Nid to ask for her help in finding a suitable lady ‘for the night’, and Nid had immediately offered herself!
I felt that familiar jolt of pain run through my stomach. She had done it again. Up to that point I had been hoping that there would be some reasonable explanation for Nid’s latest disappearance – maybe that she had got drunk and had spent the night with Dow or some other such similar explanation. But deep down I somehow guessed that she was up to her games again and now Viroj had brought me face to face with the gut-curdling truth. Nid was sleeping around yet again.
Viroj became quite distressed by my almost hysterical reaction to his news. He was a Thai and assumed that Nid was just my ‘gig’ – someone who I could ‘screw and use’ and someone who I could cast aside whenever I felt like it. He didn’t realise that farangs are not like Thais, and that they often form very deep, personal attachments to Thai ladies. Viroj had a string of girl friends and I dare say he screwed a different girl every day of the week, not having the slightest emotional attachment to any of them. Once he realised how upset I was by his news, he tried to back off on what he had said, but the ‘cat was out of the bag’ and I was in emotional turmoil.
I told him that I had to know for sure what was going on and after a lot of cajoling I managed to persuade him to call the hotel and try to find out the room number of the Arab who was allegedly with my wife. It transpired that Viroj knew the room that Dow was in, and through some pretext he managed to find out from Dow the number of the room where the Arab friend was staying.
He handed me the room number. I stared at it, not daring to do anything. I was terrified what I might find out. Viroj had to go and record his programme, and he left me, clutching the room number. The more I stared at it the more I realised that I had to know for sure. I had to clear all doubts from my mind and know for once and for all what kind of lady I was married to. Of course, I already knew, but my twisted brain was having huge difficulty in accepting the truth. I was still totally infatuated, some might say ‘bewitched’, with her.
I must have sat there for an hour, but eventually I picked upon the phone and dialled the number of the Ambassador hotel. Then I asked to be put through to the room number that Viroj had given me.
It was a female voice who answered the room phone. It was the highly distinctive voice of Nid. “Hello…Hello… who is there? … Is anyone there?…
Now I knew for sure, and I slumped down in my chair and held my head in my hands. It was all I could do to stop the tears from forming in my eyes. I was so hurt. I couldn’t get the picture of Nid, in a state of undress in the room with her Arab customer, out of my mind. It was torturing me.
Just then Ittiput arrived, with a face looking like thunder. He called to me to go into his office.
“Yes, Mobi I know what has happened. We have both been cheated. Dow is with her Swiss boyfriend and Nid is with an Arab.”
It didn’t occur to me that Ittiput had little to complain about, due to his intending marriage to another woman, so I just accepted that we were both victims of two ‘wicked, deceitful’ ladies.
I told Ittiput I had just listened to Nid’s voice on the phone in the hotel room. He seemed surprised at this news and asked me how I had tracked her down. I told him that Viroj had helped me – news that didn’t go down to well with Ittiput. He decided to call the hotel himself and see if he could track down Dow. He was on the phone for quite a while and seemed to be arguing with someone at the front desk. At length, he put down the phone and looked at me.
“They’ve just checked out. They have gone to Pattaya.”
I just stared at him – not able to take in what was happening.
“Mobi! We must go to Pattaya and settle this – once and for all! You agree?”
I looked at him in astonishment. “Yes… Ok then… How will we get there? How will we find them?…”
“I will drive there. It won’t be difficult to find them once we are there. We must go tonight!”
“Yes, we will go as soon as I have recorded my programme. You can go home and pack some things and I will pick you up in two hours. OK?”
I was too shattered to offer any resistance. “Sure…OK… Ittiput…. but what will we do when we find them?”
“We will find them. We will catch them with their new boyfriends and we will finish with them – for good. Agreed?”
I looked at him and he was holding his hand out. He wanted to me to shake hands. I took his hand and shook it.
“Agreed. This is the final straw for me. I can’t stand her behaviour any more. This time I really mean it. I will finish with Nid for good!”
“Fine, then we are both agreed. We will both finish with our women. See you in two hours”
Little did I realise the dramatic events that would transpire upon our arrival in Pattaya later that night.