Songran and the passport : part 1 "The Minx"

Songran and the passport

Part 1 : The Minx

A couple of years ago , during Songran festival in Bangkok , I decided to head for a night of debauchery .

For those not in the know , Songran , if you are the culturally sensitive type , is a Thai celebration and festival that lasts 3 days . Children ritualistically wash their elders and “cleanse” each other full of water .

For the rest of us less culturally sensitive louts , it's a big drunken water pistol fight .

I had a few months previously finally broken up with my long term Thai girlfriend , “The Minx” . The Minx and myself enjoyed 2 years of make up sex , disguised as a relationship . We fought constantly . People who often say Asian woman are demure and passive , have never met The Minx . To say she was psychotic doesn't quite cut . I have met drooling people in straight jackets , more likely to be confused as “sane” than the Minx .

She was prone to alcohol fueled fits of derangement ., often involving her screaming , throwing things , biting , hitting and clawing ...and that was just our sex life . In public she made my life a nightmare . The Minx really does deserve an article of her own , and perhaps even an entire psychological “case study”. But for now , it will suffice to say she was mad .

Mad and well connected .The Minx's father was a high ranking general in Thai army , known for his activities involving drug smuggling . In Thailand high ranking officials don't hide their corruption , they advertise it , so as to say “Don't fuck with me” . In the spirit of him being a xenophobic drug lord , it was agreed it would be best if the family never knew about me . I find this generally best in life , as I'm devoid of the social skills required to make people not loath me . Especially when I'm shagging their daughters .

So dating the minx was a very dangerous past-time . If you could dodge the kitchen knives and scissors (I never let her own a real weapon) , you still had the mafia linked over lord to worry about .

When we broke up , I was living with a good friend and prominent editor of a local magazine called “The Tank”). I had promised “the Tank” I would change the locks , because he feared not only for my life , but his own . I hadn't quite gotten around to it yet , half expecting to be taken out by a sniper on my way to the store .

I arrived home way day to discover in our absence , things in our apartment were not quite as I had remembered leaving it . I don't know what it was , something just didn't seem right .I think it had something to do with all the cut into pieces clothing lying on the floor , the broken pot plants , plates and electronics , the bottles of cologne lying emptied into the toilets , the ripped up books and of where my passport and wallet should have been a box of condoms .

Filled with two condoms , where once there had been three .

Shit .

There was no infidelity on my part the entire relationship, but I had in the interim engaged in some “shoulder to cry on sex” . My only comfort is the laughing memory that the missing condom came from a second box .

Needless to say , without my passport and wallet , I was in a slight fix . I tried to contact her and eventually found out she had gone to kill herself in nearby Pattaya . Now this didn't worry me much , not that I didn't care . I deeply cared about and loved her despite her madness , but rather because she's threatened to kill herself a million times if I “broke up her heart” , as she said .

So I managed to contact her weeks later and feign a “make up” , and secured back my passport and things . I spoke the closest thing I could resembling sense into her .

By that time my visa , which was a one month tourist type which I used to pay an illegal agent to update for me monthly was overdue . A service which came back many times to bite me in the ass , including jail time in Cambodia , the thai “law” system , being “taken in at immigration”, being blacklisted , unblacklisted , bribing my way in and out of countries and courts . These are all stories of their own and for another time and irrelevant to this one .

part 2