The Continuing Courtship’s of Tommy Casanova
By Mike Smith

My name is Tommy Casanova. Despite the implications of the name, I have never been particularly successful with the ladies. It’s not the obtaining of women that has been a problem, it’s the holding on to them. For reasons that escape me, I never could quite find the right match. Finding faults in people must be my specialty. I believe this comes from living with myself for so many years. All I see are faults. I once broke off a relationship with this particular girl because she ate her food in order. First she attacked the meat, then the potato, then the vegetable. She would never skip around the plate. I have a theory that she ate the portions in alphabetical order. Cole slaw was eaten before lima beans. Peas were devoured before squash. At Thanksgiving she didn’t have enough appetite to make it to the yams, let alone zucchini. Is that crazy, or what? Another former date would ask me for a kiss in a sweetie-pie voice. Three or four time a day I was nauseated with “Can I have a kiss”? It was like fingernails on a blackboard. Yet another ex-flame had pubic hair like piano wire. How long can a man tolerate that for?

 

Of course, please don’t get the impression that I was the terminator of all my relationships. Plenty of ex’s said adios to yours truly. In these cases however, the reasons for ending the relationship were usually petty and trivial. Words like “selfish”, “arrogant”, “jerk”, “insensitive” and “unfaithful” got tossed in my direction like so much confetti at a ticker tape parade. Imagine the nerve of such nitpickers! 

 

Still I am determined, even sworn to my heart, to find Miss Right. Unfortunately, after 35+ years, I ran out of American women willing to date me. So I brought the Tommy Casanova show on the road. Europe and South America were the primary destinations. I tried it all, every method in the book. Internet dating, chat rooms, marriage agencies, nightclubs, pretending to be a lost tourist, even walking dogs in the park to meet female dog-walkers. Although the puppy patrol never paid romantic dividends, the fees charged to the canine owners kept me in beer money!

 

My trip to the Ukraine was a disaster, as was a side journey to Moscow. Really, can anyone outside of Russia and the Ukraine distinguish between the two countries? After two months of dining on borsht, herrings, and black bread with a half dozen Svetlanas and Olgas I couldn’t leave fast enough. Paul McCartney can have the USSR. I went to Argentina for a month and immediately converted $5,000 into 687,432 pesos. Imagine my chagrin when I woke up the next morning to discover this same amount was now worth only $87.52. I nearly had a wife in Mexico, a lovely senorita in the Huichol Indian tribe. They consider peyote a special gift from the Gods, and consume it at every opportunity. Unfortunately, the twenty goats I offered to the prospective Mrs. Casanova’s family were not considered acceptable. I think I was actually briefly married in New Caledonia. Local custom decrees that holding hands before the 3rd date is as good as married. As soon as I found out it wasn’t enforceable in the US, I was on the first plane home calming my nerves with a few Bloody Mary’s.    

 

This brings me now to Thailand, the “Land of Smiles.” If a white heterosexual male with a pulse can’t meet a girl here…you may as well become a monk, performing Gregorian chants and masturbating by candlelight for eternity. I certainly have no problems attracting Thai ladies, being tall and possessing above average looks. On the proverbial 1-10 scale I am somewhere between a 7 and 8. In the eyes of Thai women though, being a member of the Caucasian race adds 4 points. This puts me in the 11-12 range. Incidentally, you can also add 1 point for each half-million dollars of net cash worth. Lamentably, I cannot accrue any points in this category. You might have the looks of Ernest Borgnine, but if you were lucky enough to buy Microsoft at twenty cents a share, a Thai girl will think you are the Second Coming of James Bond. But this brings me back to my original problem. If you recall, it’s not meeting, but rather retaining women that I somehow am not blessed with the skills for. With Thai women it should be easy to find a mate. They are beautiful, sexy, loyal, loving, and always happy. What can possibly go wrong? Oh that’s right, we’re talking about me, Tommy Casanova. The question should be what can go right? Anyway, what follows is a historical look at the girls I have found, and lost. The women are real, with the names changed to protect the quasi-innocent. The events that are described actually happened. A few details and facts are slightly embellished because I felt like it. For example, if I write, “we had wild sex five times over the course of the evening” what I really happened is I took two Viagra’s, nevertheless it still wasn’t enough to overcome the consequences of 11 Jack & Cokes. Then while I was unconscious she fled the scene, but not before emptying the contents of my wallet. When I finally awoke my “cocked and ready” condition forced me to spank my monkey for 7 ½ hours until the effects of the wonder medicine vanished.

 

So read, and hopefully enjoy. Perhaps draw a lesson or moral from each story and perhaps prevent yourself from making such blunders as I continue to produce time and time again.


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