Just returned from a day trip to she who must be obeyed’s home town of Ubon Ratchathani where she was required to go and sign some papers for a bank loan to buy a house. As this required rising at 0400 to catch the early morning flight, I rather hoped I could stay at home “to keep the cats company”; but it was decided by management that I better come along in case I also had to sign something. She had a point; there are many stories of foreign husbands having to sign a waiver when their wife acquires property which states “this is nothing to do with me and it’s not my money and I promise I won’t start whinging about it in some point in the future on the Thai Visa forum”. This is actually the case with this transaction; it’s just another acquisition for she who must be obeyed’s rapidly expanding property portfolio and nothing to do with me. My money is allocated for more fruitful investments (cameras, IT gear etc). After she had completed the transaction, I pointed out that she now has the full set of a house, a condo and some land and that all she has left to buy is a boat. I caught a small glimmer of acquisitive excitement and had to explain it was just a joke.
Anyway, we arrive at Ubon after having been completely soaked climbing into the “Thai Smile” aircraft because the fuckers couldn’t organise a proper gate, and we head for the bank. I make myself comfortable in a seat by the door and my wife heads off to the loan counter with a year’s supply of salary slips and enough associated paperwork to make a quarter size papier-mâché elephant. She fills in a form where indeed she is required to proclaim that she is married, give the name of her husband and his I.D. or passport number. She hands the form to the clerk and waits for the inevitable request to bring me forward to sign my life away.
The clerk keys in the data from the form but my passport number will not accept.
“The number is wrong” says the clerk, “the system can’t validate it”. “My husband is English” explains my wife, “that is an English passport number”.
Panic ensues and the clerk spends many minutes adding invented digits to my passport number in an effort to make it accept, to no avail. Eventually she reaches the only pragmatic decision.
“Just change the form and say you are single”. So she did, problem solved; and my trip was confirmed as being unnecessary. Although it did mean I was able to steer her away from buying a copy of the “Yachting Times” at the airport.
Comments 🔗
2013-09-07| Wolfgang Lonien saysHahaha, good one. I once learned sailing in Scotland; after doing that I bought several issues of “The Practical Boat Owner” ;-)
2013-09-11| MeMock saysUbon is my ‘home town’ and I love it for the most part. Did you get time to look around at all or have you done all that previously? Do you get there often?
2013-09-11| Spike saysBeen there many times over the ten years or so that I have been with she who must be obeyed. This time we went to Central for lunch, civilisation has arrived!
2013-09-11| MeMock saysHaha yes the new Central is indeed a welcome addition to the shopping and dining scene. Lots of other great little eating places dotted all over the city but from a tourist point of view there isn’t really much to do other then eat!
2013-09-11| Spike says..and visit your mother-in-law. Which somewhat colours my view of the place.
2013-09-11| Spike saysDid you also buy “How to recover from influenza after being soaked in cold rain for hours”?
2013-09-11| Barry saysHow wonderfully Thai. They can’t cope with anything foreign so ask your wife to make a false statement on a legal document.
2013-09-11| Spike saysCreative expediency from a bank, I’m all for it. Oh, and they approved the loan today.