My Thai Nurse Wanted 50,000 Baht a Month

About 4 years ago, I was divorced and living in Australia. I’m originally from England but came over here in 2011 for work with a European company and ended up staying. I’m now lucky enough to have both British and Australian citizenship. After my divorce, I quickly discovered that Thailand for Australians is a bit like Spain for Brits. It’s close enough for a relatively affordable holiday.

There’s plenty to do, and if you’re a single man looking for female attention, you won’t exactly struggle to find it. Now, when things started getting back to normal around 2022, I booked a holiday to Bangkok. That’s where I met Lumpon. She was a nurse and the first time I saw her, she was actually wearing her uniform.

She was absolutely stunning: petite, slim, around 5 feet tall, with subtle makeup, short polished nails, long glossy hair tied in a high ponytail, and no tattoos. She was beautifully presented and looked nothing like the stereotypical image some guys have when they think about meeting women in Thailand. She was around 14 years younger than me. Now I say around because I’ve learned not to take everything I’m told at face value. Unless I start carbon dating people, I’ll probably never know.

A Three-Hour Wait for Our First Date

Anyway, we arranged to meet at a coffee shop near my hotel. I thought I had struck gold. I made an effort as well. I didn’t turn up in the stereotypical Farang holiday uniform of shorts, flip-flops, and some beer vest. I’d ironed a decent shirt, put on some good jeans and Italian shoes, had a fresh haircut, shaved, and generally tried to make myself look presentable. We’d agreed on 10:00 a.m. 10:30 came.

No Lumpon. I messaged her. Nothing. I’m normally pretty intolerant of people who can’t respect somebody else’s time, but I decided to wait. 11:00 a.m. came and she finally messaged, “Be there soon.” At this point, the first little red flag was waving. But apparently, my standards become slightly more flexible when I’m waiting for an extremely attractive nurse, so I stayed.

She finally walked in at around 1:00 p.m., three hours late. I gave her a bit of a serve about it and told her first impressions matter. She apologized and unfortunately for my argument, she looked incredible. So most of the wind disappeared from my sails. We started talking and I asked the normal questions.

Has she been married? No. Children? No. So, at that point, I’m thinking I’ve somehow found the unicorn, beautiful woman, professional career, mid-30s, never married, and no children.

But something felt slightly off. She didn’t seem particularly interested in learning much about me as a person. She wasn’t asking about my family or my children. Instead, the question seemed to revolve around what I had.

How many properties? What work did I do? Cars, motorcycles, assets. I’m not a wealthy guy, but after my divorce, I’d been sensible. I put what I had back into property, got myself mortgage free, and avoided debt. Now, sitting opposite this beautifully presented nurse, I started feeling like I’d accidentally booked an appointment with a human calculator.

Shopping, Dinner and Growing Attachment in Bangkok

I asked what she’d like to do with the rest of her day off. Shopping. Another little red flag went up. We went to this incredible shopping mall next to the river. It was seriously impressive. Gold fittings in the toilets, luxury seating outside the stores, and designer shops everywhere. It felt more like Harrods than the version of Bangkok I’d had in my head. Walking around with Lumpon was great. I was attracted to her and I could feel myself starting to like her.

Unfortunately, she spent quite a bit of time pointing out things that she’d like. Designer handbags, shoes, tech, expensive stuff. I wasn’t buying any of it. I’ve never been the sort of guy who thinks he needs to start throwing money around to impress a woman, and I wasn’t going to start now. Later on, we went for something to eat. I’m old-fashioned when it comes to dates. If I’ve invited a woman out, I’ll pay. That’s never bothered me.

What I do notice, though, is whether she at least offers. For me, the offer matters more than actually splitting the bill. Lumpon didn’t offer. She also wasn’t interested in eating somewhere simple. She chose an upmarket restaurant and ordered an expensive meal, drinks, and dessert. I’d been perfectly happy eating crispy pork and rice for around 100 baht. And suddenly I’m sitting there paying around 2,000 baht for dinner. Again, not a financial disaster.

It was the pattern that I was starting to notice. Afterwards, we traveled back towards Lat Phrao. Something strange happened on the way back. We got a taxi from what seemed to me to be deliberately the wrong train station and eventually she had me dropped off around 3 kilometers from my hotel. Everything suddenly felt rushed. It reminded me of somebody who had somewhere else they urgently needed to be, like picking up a child from school. Now, I couldn’t prove anything. It just felt odd.

I also knew she lived in a very nice apartment building, the sort of place that would look impressive in England or Australia, never mind Bangkok. There was a beauty spa and a coffee shop downstairs. Yet, I was never invited to her apartment. That became another thing sitting in the back of my mind. We saw each other several more times before I left Thailand. Eventually, the relationship became intimate. She was incredibly feminine and affectionate.

When I spoke, she’d tilt her head slightly and listen. She smiled at me. When we walked together, she’d sometimes hold one of my fingers with her hand. There wasn’t constant criticism or arguing. For somebody who’s come out of a difficult marriage or has been emotionally neglected for years, that sort of attention can hit you harder than you expect. Add an extremely attractive woman to that equation and common sense can disappear pretty quickly. Now, I could understand how a lonely man could come to Thailand, fall hard, and make some very expensive decisions. But as we continued seeing each other, things started getting stranger. It began feeling less like two people getting to know each other and more like I was slowly being introduced to some sort of future plan.

Lumpon’s Family and Money Requests

One day her mother appeared while we were together. With her was a little Thai girl, maybe around 4 years old. I immediately thought that was strange. Lumpon told me the little girl was her niece. Then I started getting shown family photographs, pictures of her brother who was apparently the little girl’s father.

Pictures of Lumpon washing her elderly father’s feet. Then came pictures of land in Isan. Apparently this was where I could build a house. Her brother could live there with Lumpon while I was back in Australia. Then there was talk of the village hall where we could apparently have a village marriage.

This was moving considerably faster than I was. Then we got to the money. I’d been waiting for that part. Lumpon explained that in Thailand, it was normal for a man to show commitment to his girlfriend or wife by giving her a monthly allowance. According to her, 50,000 baht a month was about right.

Then came the dowry. She had already picked up on the fact that I’m fairly traditional. So, she explained that a respectable traditional man would be expected to give 100,000 baht to the bride’s parents. Then her brother apparently had problems as well. From what she told me, he had an issue with alcohol and needed 120,000 baht to buy a vehicle for work.

Questions About a Marriage and Child

So I started asking more questions. One thing I’d learned was to ask essentially the same question in different ways and see whether the answer remained consistent. Whenever I asked about whether she’d previously been married, she’d tell me there was no registered marriage with her name on it. That answer interested me. She wasn’t simply saying she’d never had any sort of marriage. She was specifically talking about there being no officially registered marriage.

By then, we’d already discussed the idea of a village marriage ourselves, so I knew there was a difference. And that got me thinking. Then there was this little girl. Now, I can’t prove this and I’m not claiming it as fact, but watching Lumpon with that child gave me a completely different feeling from what I had been told. To me, their relationship looked more like mother and daughter than aunt and niece. Even physically, I thought they looked incredibly alike.

Then I started wondering about the brother. Again, this is my own suspicion based on everything I saw. I don’t have proof. But I began wondering whether this brother might actually be her husband or partner and whether the little girl might actually be their daughter. Once that thought entered my head, a lot of the things that had seemed strange started looking different.

Why was I never invited to her apartment? Why had our first date ended so suddenly? Why did she seem to have somewhere else she urgently needed to be? Why was there so much emphasis on whether I’d accept the brother living with her? Why was the little girl’s relationship with her so close? Maybe there were innocent explanations for all of it, but my instinct was screaming at me.

I went back to my hotel and tried to digest everything. I couldn’t get my head around the possibility that somebody might hide their own child or relationship in order to pursue money from a foreign man. I also couldn’t understand how a family could potentially go along with something like that. Again, those were my suspicions. I wasn’t standing there with DNA tests and marriage certificates, but I’d seen enough that I wasn’t prepared to gamble my future on being wrong.

Her Lifestyle and My Return to Australia

The financial side bothered me, too. I kept looking at Lumpon‘s lifestyle. She was a nurse, yet she lived in a high-end apartment building. She had designer items, Gucci bags, Jimmy Choo shoes, the latest iPhone and watch. Maybe she had other income. Maybe she’d saved extremely well.

Maybe there were explanations that I didn’t know about, but I couldn’t make the numbers work in my head. So, I started wondering whether I was simply one of several foreign men that she was talking to. I wasn’t interested in finding out by putting myself on the payroll. Eventually, I returned to Australia. When I landed, I sent her a message explaining how I felt and told her I was the wrong guy for her.

That should probably have been the end of it. It wasn’t completely. We’ve stayed in occasional contact. It’s erratic and sometimes turbulent. And I’ll admit a lot of that is because of me.

Part of me remains curious, but every time we talk, something seems to reinforce the doubts I already had. I asked her why she still had active dating profiles while we were romantically involved. There was an explanation. I noticed she had more than 2,000 male Facebook friends. There was an explanation for that, too.

Whatever I asked, there always seemed to be an answer. Maybe some of those answers were genuine. Maybe none of them were. I reached a point where I realized it almost didn’t matter anymore. If you don’t trust somebody, what exactly are you building?

Keeping My Wallet Closed

I’m now at an age where I have to think differently. A man in his 50s doesn’t necessarily get unlimited opportunities to rebuild financially. You can let the little head rule the big head and have a fantastic time for a while, but eventually somebody has to pay the bill. I’m grateful for my working-class upbringing because I think it gave me enough street sense to stop before I became financially committed. Listening to other men’s experiences made certain things stand out to me that I might otherwise have ignored. The biggest thing I took from Thailand was how dangerous it can be when you don’t speak the language.

You’re relying heavily on what somebody chooses to translate or tell you. Sometimes all you’ve really got left is instinct and common sense, and mine was telling me to keep my wallet closed. The funny part is, after everything I’ve just written down, I’m not going to pretend I’m some perfectly disciplined bloke who never thinks about her. She’s an incredibly attractive woman. We had some very good times together.

If I ever go back to Thailand, could I end up seeing her again? Possibly. I know that probably sounds ridiculous after everything I’ve just said, but at least I know exactly what I would be walking into. What I wouldn’t do is hand over 50,000 baht every month. I wouldn’t buy the land. I wouldn’t build the house. And I definitely wouldn’t pay 120,000 baht for the brother’s vehicle.

And I certainly wouldn’t build my future around somebody I don’t trust. Maybe I’m wrong about some of my suspicions. Maybe I’m closer to the truth than I’ll ever know. Either way, I wasn’t prepared to risk everything I’d rebuilt after my divorce to find out. I’m still here. My money is still mine, and I’ll consider that a win.