The Continuing Courtship’s of Tommy Casanova
By Mike Smith

Number 1 - Nin

First a bottle of water went flying through the air just to the left of my head. The water bottle was followed immediately by a hairbrush. Then a spoon somehow passed end over end underneath my chin without hitting me. What the hell had caused my up-until-now easygoing girlfriend to so maliciously hurl ordinary household objects in the direction of my head? Until this point we had had a perfect relationship. Except for the weekly fights. And the daily disagreements. And the fact that she annoyed the hell out of me.

Nin and I had started out so promising. We had met a couple of years ago in Amsterdam. I had just left the famous Milk Veg Club and was mentally on another planet courtesy of Amsterdam mushrooms and Heineken. As I wandered in the general direction of my hotel, one last nightclub beckoned to me like the sirens of ancient Greece. Inside was Nin, dancing with her friend Pin. Pin was in Amsterdam to visit a Dutch guy she had met on the internet, and had brought Nin along for company. I waited until a song was over and gingerly made my approach. I’m certain my lips were moving, but I’m not sure coherent thoughts were making their way out. No matter though, Nin barely spoke English. You see there’s proof right there! Drugs and alcohol don’t necessarily transform you into an idiot! Not if you’re lucky enough to speak to a person who can’t comprehend your language to begin with. We had a great night together in spite of my straits. Although we only spent a short amount of time in each other’s company, we exchanged email addresses and agreed to keep in touch. I contacted her in advance of my moving to Bangkok in December of 2002, and she was at the airport waiting for me.

The first few nights I stayed in a hotel near her apartment. Everything was going so fantastic, she offered to let me stay with her until I could find an apartment. Two weeks after that, she asked me to stay permanent, and I agreed. Six months later, I interpreted the flying projectiles as a retraction of that invitation. The first six weeks were brilliant. Then as soon as the Chinese New Year arrived, life together went downhill faster than Hermann Maier on freshly waxed skis. Blame it on the goat or horse or rat or whatever the fuck this year’s animal is. Each day brought something different. We couldn’t have thought more opposite. But in the end, it came down to this: She was looking for a farang with money, and I had none. I was looking for a girl with at least half a brain, and she had none. Honestly, her IQ was about 35. Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration. It was probably more like 20. Oh yeah, and she also caught me cheating on her.

I didn’t intend to do it. It just happened, during a business trip to Koh Samui in June. The relationship at that point was as good as over. In fact it had very nearly ended a couple of times previously, even to the point of me placing a deposit on an apartment to move into. But each time the good Dr. Frankenstein was there to breathe a little life into in. “Alive! Alive I tell you!” I could hear him screaming from his laboratory in my mind, with Igor running to and fro. I like to think I wouldn’t have strayed if I had intended to stay with her. I was simply waiting for the right time to tell her it was over. Of all of life’s duties, ending a relationship with someone who wants to marry you is surely one of the most difficult. On a scale of 1-10, it must be about a 9.3, just behind purchasing rubbers as a teenager, and just ahead of naming goldfish.

Now for the part where she discovers my indiscretions. I had become friends with Larry, an American guy from California. Larry had a girlfriend (who I suspect may have previously been a man) and the four of us double dated on occasion. I confided in him with what had occurred on Samui. And just like that shampoo commercial, he told two friends, who then told two friends, and sure enough one was Nin. Actually, he was stupid enough to tell his girlfriend, and thought that she could keep it a secret. I didn’t think they made people that stupid, but not only do they, I confided in him. Then the interrogation started. Nin began with a little beating around the bush. Then some direct questioning. Finally, she called in the Gestapo. Sleep depravation, electric cattle prods, 24 hours of Barbara Streisand movies, and finally I caved. 

This still doesn’t mask the fact that we never should have been together in the first place. Our attitudes and thoughts were so very different. Where she saw black, I saw white. Where she saw day, I saw night. So my infidelity was the driving of a stake through the heart of an unholy entity. Still I regret doing it, as it caused Nin a considerable amount of pain. After my admission, she was relatively calm. Then came a few tears. Books, bottles, pots and pans followed the tears, and anything else she could get her hands on, all with intent to injure yours truly. Whoever coined the phrase “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned”, now there was a guy who knew what he was talking about. What surprised me about the tantrum, was that it didn’t come the day of my admission, but rather a week later. She decided to forgive me and insisted we put it behind us. Then one night out, after hours of Heinekens and a few of her girlfriends squawking in her ears, she had a new attitude. And that approach was “kill farang!”

So now it was 0400 on a Sunday morning. It was either take the abuse, or vamoose. I went to Khao Sarn Road to find a cheap guesthouse, checking into a private room with air-conditioning for 300 Baht. I was just settling in when there was a knock on my door. I opened the door to find a ‘working girl’ trying to get some work before the night ended. “You want boom-boom? 500 baht!” No, no thank you, was my immediate response. “You want boom-boom? 300 baht!” She obviously never took a negotiating class in college. Still my response was the same. The last thing I wanted at the moment was another woman problem.