The “Home” page is my daily blog. The remaining tabs contain previously blogged, episodic ‘stories’, which are now re-published in chronological order.
My life might about to become utterly boring, but don’t bet on it!
In the meantime, some good news for Mr. Snot Ass……
I have been through a few ups and downs since I last seriously blogged and hardly know where to start.
I suppose I have been following a fairly predictable ‘alcoholic behavioural cycle’.
I have lied to myself and I have lied on my blog – so there it is out in the open.
When I moved to my new home, late last month, I was still sober and had been for quite a little while. But as soon as the dust had settled on my move, the secret drinking, (secret against I know not who) , then the public drinking started again.
It is difficult to put my finger the precise cause, but certainly the fact that I drifted away from AA meetings and after a while ceased to attend any at all, had much to do with it. Whatever I feel about AA, and I do have many deep reservations, regular attendance seems to be the only thing that keeps me and booze apart.
I could explain that it was the aftermath of moving into my new, comfortable home that led to my downfall. As other alcoholics will know, it is sometimes possible for us to keep away from the booze for reasonably long periods of time – when we have something important to do which would be adversely affected by the consumption of alcohol. Once having achieved our objective, we quickly revert to our former ways.
I could also claim it was the realisation of how lonely I was and my deep desire to share my new home with someone that led me down the slippery slope.
I could also claim that it was my abject failure to find a suitable companion that led me to the desperation that ultimately led to my fall from grace.
Don’t get me wrong. I haven’t been on any disastrous benders or multi-day binges. In fact, apart from a couple of evenings when I would say I did come close to overdoing it, my indulgences have largely been within reasonable bounds, and there have been days when I have only had a couple of glasses of wine, and on a few occasions, no booze at all.
There was a brief period when I first relapsed, when I actually believed, for the umpteenth time, that maybe I could drink in a controlled fashion. But as ever, it wasn’t long before I fell into the routine of drinking a little too much; feeling pretty bad the next morning and crucially, having no incentive to do anything worthwhile. Then, slowly but surely the depression started to set in, despite my medication.
So what have I been doing and where have I been drinking?
My drinking has largely been confined to home and places around the lake, although I did venture into some ‘Gentlemen’s clubs’ in Jomtien and Pattaya.
I was hell bent on finding someone to share my life with as I was becoming increasingly lonely and depressed. The harder I tried, the more miserably I failed. I bedded many women in ‘short time’ rooms, sometimes twosomes, but didn’t find a single one who I wanted to bring into my new home – not even for a night.
The ones I really liked weren’t interested in me. This was hardly surprising. I had befriended at least 3 ladies over the past few months who would probably have made good companions, but due to my erratic, grumpy and alcoholic behaviour when I had had a few, they had all distanced themselves from me.
There was one girl in particular who would have been ideal. She had been brought in by the bar/restaurant owner from Pichit to be the restaurant cashier. She had never been to Pattaya before, was single, no children, 29 years old and very pretty. Her boss encouraged her to get to know me and I reciprocated. Then, being the perverse alcoholic that I am, I didn’t talk to her for while and during this period she met another farang and before I knew what had happened he had swept her off her feet and she was gone.
There were other, similar occurrences and I was coming to the conclusion that I was destined to a life of loneliness and my life was reaching yet another crisis.
Finally, a couple of days ago I arrived at one of my regular bars and found one of my bright prospects all alone and sending me very friendly signals. I was already fairly pissed and immediately latched onto her, promising her life-long happiness if she agreed to go home and shack up with me.
She didn’t seem to need much convincing, and after an hour of canoodles and booze, we headed off to the new Mobi- Villa. Her name was Ella; I had known her for a while but had never slept with her. She was a quite pretty, very sexy 27 year old, from Chaing Mai, had been working there for two months and had no kids. She seemed in every way ideal.
By the time we had showered and retired to bed, the booze had caught up with me and I was in no condition to do anything. Naturally Ella didn’t mind and was content to cuddle up to me and very soon we were both fast asleep.
At some ungodly hour of the morning, (it was still dark), Ella’s phone rung and she answered it with a grunt, followed by a tirade of abuse in Thai to whoever was calling. She hung up and I thought that was that, but a minute later it rung again, and this time I heard Ella telling her caller where she was and that she didn’t need to be picked up as she could catch a motorcycle taxi from the nearby 7/11.
WTF was going on?
I didn’t have to wait long. Ella jumped out of bed and told me she had to go to the Wat with her friend.
“Wat! What? Why? What time is it for God’s sake?”
“It’s five thirty and I have to go to do ‘tambon’ with my friend. She is waiting for me.”
“But…but… it’s so early – you promised you would stay with me!”
She ignored my entreaties. “No need to drop me off. I can get a taxi from the 7/11.”
“But… I haven’t had my screw yet!!!”
“That’s your fault. You should have done it last night. I’m late. I have to go.”
With that Ella slipped on her scant clothing and waited at the front door for me to let her out.
I escorted her to the driveway, unlocked the front gate and watched her goose stepping her way down to the main road by the lake in her high-heels and micro shorts that left so little to the imagination. It was still pitch dark.
Wherever she was going at that hour of the morning along a dark and desolate area of Mabprachan Lake, it was obviously preferable to spending even another hour with poor old Mobi.
I watched her despondently as she disappeared into the darkness. Alone once more, I crashed back onto my bed. Things weren’t going my way at all at all.
I slept fitfully for several hours before finally rousing myself sufficiently to crawl out of bed and feed the dogs. I felt thoroughly depressed.
This woman-hunting business was going nowhere and I was just making a bigger fool of myself than I already was. I knew this with a crashing certainly, and the realisation did nothing to comfort me.
I resolved to stay indoors for the next 24 hours and try to get some semblance of order and common sense back into my life. There was nothing to drink at home and I was resolute on staying sober. It was one of the hardest 24 hours I have spent for some time. It was a bit like the ‘epiphany’ I experienced a couple of months back on the beach in Sihanoukville, Cambodia. I seem to be experiencing ‘soul-searching’ moments quite a lot lately.
I spent the day on my computer and watching TV, but I didn’t feel like blogging. All in all it wasn’t a bad night’s sleep and the next morning I awoke feeling much better, with no hangover and less depressed. This fucking booze really doesn’t agree with me at all anymore. It just turns my life into misery.
It must have been late morning when I received my first communication from the outside world. It was from Tan, the girl from Nakhon Sawan who had broken my heart earlier in the year. She informed me that she had returned to Pattaya and was working as an assistant chef at a farang restaurant in Soi Khao Talo. It was her day off and she asked if I was interested in spending the afternoon on the beach with her and her friend.
Having nothing better to do I hastily agreed and picked up the two ladies and also her friend’s young daughter and we spent a pleasant afternoon on Jomtien beach, relaxing in the comparatively cool October air, and enjoying a modest repast. Tan informed me that she was earning 10,000 Baht per month and her room in which she stayed alone, was 5000 Baht per month. She had also rented a motorcycle for 2,500 Baht and she was paying off a ‘debt’ at the rate of 5,000 per month.
I told her the sums didn’t add up. She looked at me sheepishly. I suggested that an unknown benefactor might be sending her a monthly stipend and she smiled a smile of tacit acknowledgement. I could only assume she called me because she thought she might find a way to extract some money from me, but those days are long gone. I dropped the three girls back at their rooms and drove back home.
To those who have been following my saga may recall that earlier this year, during Songkran, I was staying with the lovely Wan in Roi Et when I suddenly decided to ditch her; drive across the mountains and meet up with Tan in Nakhon Sawan. Tan then came to live with me in Jomtien and after about 6 weeks she dumped me and left me with a broken heart.
(New readers can refer back to my blog for April, 2010, where the whole sorry story is recounted)
There is little doubt that real life coincidences happen in ways that would lack credibility if they were written as a piece of fiction. I have come across this time and time again. For example who would ever believe that the famous English hangman, Albert Pierrepoint, would one day find himself having to hang one of his best friends for the murder of his estranged sweetheart? Yet it really happened. If such an incident was written in a piece of creative writing, the ‘coincidence’ would have been dismissed as trashy fiction.
So six months ago I left Wan for Tan, and almost as soon as I returned home from an afternoon with Tan, I received a call from Wan telling me that she would be coming to Pattaya the next day with her Aunt to try and find work. She told me that she could not bring herself to work in a bar, but asked if I could help her find a job with someone who could utilise her undoubted English skills.
We agreed to meet up and the rest is history.
Wan is a lovely, 31 year old lady. She looks good, dresses nicely but not revealingly, is well educated, speaks excellent English (having lived in England for several years), and when she stays with me, she takes care of my every need. As soon as she had called me I realised that she was the answer to my dreams. OK, I don’t love her in the way that I have loved other girls, but I have a deep fondness for her that may well turn into a lasting love. It is time to call it a day on my never ending woman-hunting in places where most of the ladies are already spoiled for life. They will never make a good ‘live-in’ for a man in his sixties.
I decided to take the plunge and within minutes of meeting up with her again, I invited her to come back with me to my home for the third time and promised that this time there would be no sad endings.
Wan has been with me for three days now and I am sober and happy. We have been shopping and doing other domestic chores together and are really enjoying each other’s company. She can’t do enough for me, and this time, instead of feeling that she is smothering me, I am accepting her kind ministrations and appreciating them for what they are.
Wan never was, and I sincerely believe, never will be, a demanding woman as far as money is concerned. Sure, she has some money problems, which is why she came to Pattaya seeking work, but they are modest by any standards. It will not take much to keep her very happy.
This afternoon I will see my therapist, who is visiting Pattaya, and I will then attend my first AA meeting for quite a while.
So, Mr. Snot Ass, I am sorry to recount that my life is about to become boring.
But who can say for sure?