Blissful Ignorance

The husband is always the last to know and this truth holds course in Pattaya, the Last Babylon. Most men come for sex. It doesn't take long for them to fall in love with a bargirl or go-go dancer. These novices tell their friends that their girls is different from all the other girls in Sin City.

They are sadly wrong, for Thai women have histories and these stories include old boyfriends from near and far. The tee-lats have been left by men before. Plan B and C and D are somewhere in the distance and infidelity is only a precaution against Plan A's failure.

Sex means nothing.

Security is everything.

Unfaithfulness in Pattaya is a given. Success ratios are 100%, but Thai bargirls have an extensive spy network designed to GPS their 'man' within seconds of his contemplating sex with another woman. The CIA and MI5 a pikers in comparison to the tracking capability of a bargirl.

On the other hand farangs operate completely in the dark about their loving tee-lat's Thai cousins and farang 'friends'. Ignorance is so very bliss and men are better off not knowing the truth. It will not set them free.

Last year an Aussie friend of mine spotted another mate's girlfriend entering a hotel with a farang. There was no mistaking the purpose.

"What should I do?" Alex asked me at the Welkom Inn. He was an accountant from Sydney. Numbers added up to sums. He liked to think of himself as honest.

"Do nothing." This was my standard advice for almost every situation. Do something is dangerous. It tends to open a can of worms.

"But he"s my mate."

"You drink with him and play golf with him each Monday. You tell him about his girlfriend and all that changes."

"I'd want someone to tell me." Alex was recovering from a bad divorce. His wife had left him for his best friend. He was the last to know, because he chose to be blind to the truth.

"No you wouldn't." I assumed no woman, Thai, western, African, or Latin could be faithful to me out of sight. My suspicious nature was comforting in its blanket generalization. "Is your friend happy?"

"Yes, but what does that have to do with it?" Accountants are barely human.

"Happiness is dyne rarest commodity in the universe. Leave it alone. It's s business and not yours."

I could tell Alex had no intentions of heeding my suggestions and a week later he entered the Welkom Inn with a black eye.

"Let me guess. You told your friend about his girlfriend."

"Yes." Alex was clearly was upset by the result of his truth saying

"And?" I would have bet the house on what he was about to say.

"I told him what I saw and my friend confronted his girlfriend. She said that I had asked her to sleep with him and was telling a lie to get even with her. The next time I saw him for playing golf, he punched me on the 1st hole."

"Never wants to see you again."

"Something like that."

"So I was right." There is something very satisfactory in saying 'I told you so.'

"I did the right thing."

"Yeah, I can see that." I got up from my stool and went outside to speak with Fabo. He had arrived in Pattaya that afternoon after a month off-shore of Greenland. No drinking for 30 days and he was ready for a case of Heineken. I told the Belgian seismic engineer about Alex and Fabo laughed with a sneer.

"If you see ever see my Poo with another man, ferme ta guele."

"Silence is golden." Keeping your trap shut was a blessing for all concerned parties.

Our bottles clinked together in agreement.

We were two happy fools and neither of us would have it any other way.