Dear Hillary,
I have a problem with my new Thai GF. She doesn’t want to get out of bed in the mornings, but I have to start work at 8 a.m. and I expect her to cook me breakfast, but nothing but snores for me in the mornings. Night time is a different matter, she’s all raring to go, and 2 or 3 in the morning is nothing for her, while I am starting to flag. Out of the nightclub and let’s find a noodle stall. I really can’t put up with this time difference much more. What should I do?
Will the Worker

Dear Will the Worker,
That’s quite a problem you have, my Petal, but not impossible to be gotten over. It is my understanding that you are the person with a job - she does not. You are the one keeping your little sleeping beauty in clothes and noodles. She can’t even cook you breakfast to keep you going night and day. You are being used, Will the Worker. Any good and lasting partnership has two sides, yours is one-sided. Time for you to be strong and tell her she gets up with you and goes to bed with you, and looks after you as wives are supposed to do (just as husbands look after wives). After all, McDonalds make breakfasts and you don’t have to buy the cashier a new dress.

Dear Hillary,
How many of the Thai wife - foreigner husband marriages really work? Just about one in two of my friends have seen their wife go off with a Thai boyfriend, taking with them anything that isn’t nailed down. This is after some years of marriage too, not the quick village marriage, grab the dowry and run marriages.
Am I Next?

Dear Am I Next,
Here’s the bad news. One in two (that’s 50 percent for the mathematically challenged) is par for the course all over the world. Yes, for all of you with stars in the eyes, hanging on to the best girl in the world, half of you are going to be disappointed. And that is true for the UK, America, Europe and Thailand. And is still true with Thai marrying a Thai, let alone marrying a foreigner with all the culture shock problems on top.

Dear Hillary,
You may not have noticed, but when a Thai person rings my number and finds it is a farang on the other end, they just drop the phone. Click, no “Sorry” or anything like that. I find this very rude, and wonder if other readers of your column (keep it up, it is so much fun) find the same?
Phone Phil

Dear Phone Phil,
There is a very simple answer to all this. The person ringing does not want to disappoint you by being unable to speak English, so rather than embarrass everyone, they just put the phone down. “Click” as you say. The answer here is to always answer the phone with a long “Ha-lloww”. This tricks the caller into thinking they have another Thai on the end of the phone and they will launch into rapid-fire Thai language that you can’t understand either. The other response is a series of “Ha-lloww”, “Ha-lloww”, “Ha-lloww”, “Ha-lloww” until eventually they break out in Thai, as per the first response. I think you should consider yourself lucky, and stop handing out business cards with you phone number on it.

Dear Hillary,
Happy New Year and all that and I’m wondering if all the poor souls from 2011 will ever find their true girlfriends, and will 2012 bring on another steady stream of broken hearts asking what to do and where to go. You would imagine by this time at least some of them would see the light. Anyway, Hills, old bean, all the best and keep smiling.
Pete

Dear Pete,
What’s with the “Hills, old bean”, Pete my Petal? Just refer to me as Hillary, thank you, “old bean” indeed! Now as far as the army of the broken hearts is concerned, of course there will be a new wave coming. It happens every year and is something to do with 2012 being the lemming leap year. Your “poor souls” as you call them, leave their cold and wintry countries and come here to waving palm trees, warmth and even warmer ladies. No wonder they all do the lemming leap off the cliff together when they find that the lovely Lek from Legs Bar Beer was just doing her job, and they have been replaced by the second wave of Scandinavians, to be followed by the third wave of Belgians. With the dearth of female company for the older (and younger, I am led to believe) males from the UK, Scandinavia, Belgium and all points West in their own countries, the happy little bunny who will sit on their knees and say, “I lub you too mut, buy me drink,” is beyond their wildest dreams. No wonder they fall for some of the oldest bargirl lines in the world. But they do, and they break their hearts and the cycle continues.