Happy almost weekend, folks. It’s your man Seven again with another “Frowback Friday” blog. If you already read it elsewhere, I hope you find it as edifying or more this time around:
“In other blogs I’ve bragged like a douche about never having had a negative experience with a Thai girl, and many times I’ve promised to spell out why and post it to the world wide web. Consider this promise kept:
Just to recap, my philosophy on relationships between Thai women and farang men is simple: don’t do it. Some couples beat the odds and find true love, but more often than not, you the farang are going to walk away with your heart shattered and your wallet vacuumed dry. You’ll probably go back to your home country with your tale of woe between your legs and a hundred warnings to all your buddies about the evil succubi inhabiting the Land of Smiles. And you’ll be correct, except for one thing—it’s not the girl’s fault. It’s yours.
I’m going on nearly a decade as a resident in the greatest country in the world known as Thailand, and in that time I’ve gotten to know more than a handful of the captivating women who help make this place paradise—and it is paradise, as long as you do one simple thing: never fall in love. That’s my secret to success, and why I can happily say that (with one small exception to be exposited below) every relationship I’ve had and currently have with every seductive siren I’ve been lucky enough to cross beds with has been a happy and rewarding one. I’ve never been dumped, cheated-on, or had my heart broken in Thailand. I’ve never had so much as a mild argument with any of the women with whom I’ve consorted. Not a single one of them would have a bad thing to say about me, and neither would I about them. My stress level regarding relationships, on a scale of 1 to 10, has for the last 8 years been holding steady at zero.
How do I do it? Simple. I don’t invest emotionally in any relationship. I don’t subscribe to the ridiculous notion of monogamy or the childish fantasy of a thing called “love,” nor do I expect fidelity or fealty from anyone. The underlying philosophy of my approach is not shaped exclusively by experiences with Thai women. The world at large is mostly populated with idiots who 1—don’t know what love is, 2—couldn’t love correctly even if they knew what it is, and 3—are so broken and pathetic that they look to other people to give their lives meaning and foolishly call that “love.” They heap all their feelings of self-worth on their partner, giving that person the power to validate or crush them depending on whether or not they stay together or break up. That’s just stupid. So the first step for any sane, mentally stable person is to learn how to be alone and be OK with it. If you can’t find value in life apart from how hard you can latch on to someone else like a barnacle, then all of your relationships are inherently doomed. But I digress.
When I first came to Thailand, I was reeling from a breakup that I’d suffered through back in the United States. I’d learned from my parents’ generation and a lifetime of watching RomComs, listening to hit radio, and reading teen fiction that in order to be happy, one must find their soulmate (insert the “you complete me” scene from Jerry Maguire here). So of course, the first thing I tried to do when I’d settled in here was find a girlfriend. I met a sweet young thing by the name of Ta, and we took to each other from minute one and were more or less together for two years. In that time I experienced all 10 of the woes on my previous 10 Top 10 list (titled “Dating. Don’t.”) and eventually gave up all together. It was then that I remembered a time from my 20s when I conjured up a theory for what I thought would be the ideal way of life for a single man. A friend of mine once described marriage as having your favorite flavor of ice cream—and only your favorite flavor—every day for the rest of your life. I knew I didn’t want that—I wanted multiple flavors for the rest of my life. There had to be, I thought, a better system. Namely, that a perfect world would be one where a guy had not just one, but a handful of ladies that he could see consistently on different days of the week, without any claims of ownership or loyalty apart from good times, honesty, and regular bedroom gymnastics. Of course, that would never fly in the West. Women are too insecure, possessive, and covetous with a man’s time, affection, and money. But it could theoretically work in Thailand. So I abandoned my search for “the one” and instead widened my focus to allow for more than one lady to catch my eye. And it worked.
At the moment, I’m juggling 6 friends-with-benefits-style relationships. They’re each lovely in their own way, and thus far have been content to visit my apartment a few times per month and get up to some naughty business in exchange for small gifts, polite conversation, and taxi fares. Some of them have Thai boyfriends and have to sneak over. Some know about each other and visit in pairs. In short, I am their friend and part-time benefactor, and they are each a sometimes friend and playmate. They range in age between 18 and 25. My favorite one has been with me for 5 years. She considers me one of her closest friends and I can honestly say I care for her, as far as I’m able to care for anyone. For I long-ago burned and cauterized that part of my soul. I have no interest in it. Good friends, yes. Also benefits. That’s as far as it goes. Thankfully, she has a Thai boyfriend for all the lovey-dovey stuff, and also the arguments, power struggle, and eventual horrible break-up. I skip all that, with all of them, and instead reap only the benefits.
So I never argue with my girls. There’s nothing to argue over. Once you take monogamy and possession out of the equation, what is there to get upset about? Now, I know there are some cynics who will read this and say “They’re just prostitutes and you’re their customer.” First, they’re not bar girls. Most of them were at one time, but now they’re baristas, uni students, 7-11 clerks, and stay-at-home-moms. None of them are strictly slinging their naughty parts for cash. So they’re not prostitutes. At least, no more or less than any other woman. I exchange money and friendship for sex and friendship. As far as I can tell, once you strip away the belief in fidelity and false validation of a modern “love” relationship, what you have left is the same exact exchange. I calculated that my last American girlfriend, who left me for someone better-looking after 2 years, cost me $20 thousand (the price of keeping a smoking-hot girl happy in Los Angeles) in that short amount of time. Six friends with benefits run less than a third of that, all without any of the headache. So if by prostitution, we mean “exchanging one thing for another thing” like sex for love or sex for security, then all women are on the same playing field. Men too, in that they give up something they have in order to obtain something they want. And if we’re looking strictly at work and risk versus reward, there’s no comparison. My harem beats a traditional relationship hands down.
This lifestyle isn’t without its downside. Periodically, two or more of my girls will want to see me on the same day, which creates all kinds of problems, beginning with scheduling. How to fit everyone in while giving me time to rest in between? And at my age, it’s getting harder and harder (wrong choice of words) to perform multiple times per day. I’m literally out of juice by the end. Or the times when a girl wants to see me more than I want to be seen. Thinking up excuses besides “I’m bored with you” can be mentally exhausting. And then there are other days when I want company but nobody calls, and all my efforts to get someone over fail. It’s feast or famine.
But compared to the ball-busting hell-scape that is dating in the West, and the monotonous tedium of relationships in general, I’d say I’m as close to the high end of the happy scale as a guy can get. If you can pull it off—and if you can overcome the notion that you need someone in order to be someone—you’ll be much happier, too.”
That’s all for this Frowback. Tune in next week for an instructional blog on how to gogo, and check back here on Sunday for my weekly diatribe. Until then, may your beers be frosty and your girls lusty. Cheers!