Last year I went to a friend's wedding in up-country Thailand and was of course set up with a potential wife...
Why do people insist on assuming that because you are single man possessed of a good fortune you must be want of a wife? Where DO they get such a proud and prejudiced idea?
The single lady in question was a particularly nice divorced lady, a lecturer at the local university, an excellent cook (she'd written a cookbook!), with only one child and two doting parents. She had been through a period of bad luck. Said doting parents had several years before arranged a marriage for their favourite and most beautiful daughter (in the traditional Thai way of the upper classes) with a singularly upstanding young man of the ritzy Thai community, only to find him to running away when she got pregnant not long after the hitching ceremony. The mystery was HOW she got pregnant, as he ran away with a noticeably mincing, limp-wristed gait towards his many male friends in up-standing Bangcock.
Now she was divorced, the possibilities of another *good* marriage to a *good* family were shot out the open-frame, rustic window of their artistic-community style property. (Mum is a potter.)
So naturally, a rich farang like E@L is 100% prime beef for a desperate Thai divorcee and her eager family - they also need someone to finance the USD$20k purchase of the property next door to expand their Lanna style, Royally endorsed, bed-and-breakfast business.
But E@L needs a wife like a fish needs a bicycle (free registration required), as they say.
E@L just vants to be alone!
It is practically an article of faith among psychotherapists that an intimate human relationship is good for you. None other than Freud himself once famously said that health requires success in work and in love.
I’m not so sure. It seems that for some people, love and intimacy might not just be undesirable but downright toxic.
Nothing came of the attempted arrangement as E@L escaped with merely a full belly from her wonderful soup and with his re-stitched bachelorhood intact.
Recently, news from E@L's married friend up there in north Thailand is that Kun **** and family have just returned from a month of penitence in a Buddhist monastery, heads all a-stubble with regrowing hair.
It seems her brother had gone and got one of the maids pregnant. The idiot, that's just not done!
They are a lovely family. It is such a shame that things like this keep upsetting their lives.
Speaking of restitched, E@L was at a clinic recently where they specialised in "hymen repair" (like tearing it was an accident!) and something ominously called "laser vaginal rejuvenation." Sounds like something 50ft Zombie Divorcees might need.
OTHER MONKEYS SAID
From the first sentence, I had a feeling that the term "50ft Zombie Divorcee" would be used at least once in this post.
The doom, the nemesis, the destroyer, the bane, the archenemy of the comfortable batchelor expat!