At 52 I flew to Thailand to meet Chompoo, my Messenger girlfriend, in person, more suspicious than excited. Between money requests, a gold bracelet, and an itemised bill for picking me up at the airport, I nearly booked a flight back to Auckland. One simple test, asking for my money back, changed everything I thought about her.
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Freshly divorced, I flew to Bangkok with a fake forty-dollar Rolex bought on a New York layover. Between bar nights and a reserved woman who set one strange condition for seeing her again, the trip left me two nights I'll never forget, a lesson in misplaced trust, and no plans to bring the real watch next time.
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At 39, an Australian who considered himself a seasoned Thailand traveller met a girl over a game of pool in a Pattaya bar. Ten perfect days, a golf tournament in Indonesia, visits to her family in Isaan. All good until six months of distance for work uncovered that the Scottish boyfriend she said she'd left had never actually gone anywhere.
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A 41-year-old British man went in two weeks from a Soi 4 fling to talking dowry and house renovations. He almost sent 400,000 baht. He did not.
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