Wednesday morning.
Oh my god.
I am still processing the insanity of my evening last night. It was really something…
Wow, what was that?
That was dating in Thailand. So far we’ve got Temporary Visa Tourist Guy and Passport Bro. What’s next, I wonder? Big Dumb Surfer Guy, maybe? He doesn’t do a whole lot of thinking. He’s just here to catch a wave.
And on top of all of that, I woke up this morning to a “U still up?” text message from this guy again at 2am. Unbelievable. This guy is just… wow.
Well, that’s the thing about these tall, dark, brooding British guys. They’ve always got a secret locked up in their attics, whether it’s a cursed painting, a mad ex-wife, or a secret formula that turns him into a monster. I was personally betting on the ex-wife locked in the attic upstairs. The only question is if she is Thai or Chinese? How we approach the door after this depends on the answer.
This is so unfortunate.
I’m still processing the fact that I did not get laid. My expectations were set so low. All I really hope for at this point is to get laid more than one time by the same person so it can actually be an enjoyable experience for once. But no. No, no, no. I just get served up more bullshit instead.
Well, my only comfort is that I got to watch the British Guy get dunked on by basically everyone in the bar all night. No one has forgotten the Old Empire. They all act like they’re still fighting World War II. It’s like the crazy little sideshow that took over my date.
I think he was also extremely caught off-guard by me. I think he was expecting yoga hippie bar girl and instead he got… well… me. Then everyone there was introducing me to him as a writer who came all the way to this little bar in Thailand just to write about them. Meanwhile I’m just sitting there surrounded by ex-IRA guys who are staring at him menacingly while he looks at me with a mix of fear and bewilderment in his eyes.
He looked pretty shocked by that. He definitely was giving off a vibe like, “Uh oh, what did I step into over here?”
Well, I’m definitely not someone you can just pay to be your housekeeper with benefits. It is what it is. As you say oh-so-smugly, “I like her body and she likes my money. What’s wrong with that?”
Nothing at all, I guess. So you can just go enjoy that. My old Irish uncle is indeed correct about you. You do not know how to handle a real woman at all.
Okay, so that happened. The good news is: no more distractions! Poof! Vanished right into thin air!
Ugh, yikes. What was that? Ick. The whole experience just left a really bad taste in my mouth. It’s like a bomb went off right into the middle of downtown. It was worse than the Blitzkrieg. Just bloody. Sunday Bloody Sunday.
Just ridiculous and absurd.
At least I can say there’s no shortage of interesting things happening in my life here in SEA.
What are the odds this guy is going to continue surfacing back up? I can’t even imagine. I’m willing to bet another HKD$10 on it. As for me, I will not allow myself to be distracted by it anymore.
All night he kept asking me, “Why do you hate men?”
Because of this. Everything you’re doing right now. Everything you are as a human being. You are such a scumbag and you don’t even see it. You think what you’re doing is okay, but in reality it’s just gross. And even then, it’s not enough for you. You have to hit up my phone and waste my time and energy in addition to the convenience of simply paying someone else to give you the attention you crave so desperately.
And that… that is only one of many reasons why. You know what another reason is? Men are constantly reducing me to nothing but a sexual object, and then when I want to have sex on my own terms, nobody will do it with me because they’re all scared little pussyass bitches like you. You cannot handle a woman who is actually in control of her desires and knows what she wants. You have to pay someone two decades younger than you to suck your dick while you fall asleep on the couch after going out drinking at the bar all night long. Still, it’s not enough. You have to be dishonest with her and disrespect her too.
I am so over it.
I’m so tired. So tired. Just so over it. So over it.
I truly have a talent for stepping in massive piles of shit. It’s actually becoming quite impressive. I should definitely try to be making some money off of this.
That was a terrible experience. Never again.
I’m just sitting here watching the street traffic go by like, “What in the ever loving fuck was that?”
At least he paid for all the drinks in the end. So, that was a nice perk. A little something for my troubles. Was it worth it? No. But at least I left that bar with yet another story to tell…
That’s all we can hope for in this world.
Shoutout to the guy who just walked by with a little blue parakeet singing on his shoulder. Chill vibes only. Thanks for the inspiration, Thailand.