Dating in Bangkok 102

A couple of months ago, I wrote about a guy I was dating who kept a number of pastel-colored toothbrushes in a rather discreet shelf above his bathroom mirror, obviously for his many paramours. I never did get my own toothbrush. I got out of there faster than you can say “toxic bachelor”.

He has since been dumped and presumably recycled. Since then, I’ve developed a kind of wariness for wayward toothbrushes. I know because it was certainly the first thing I watched out for, the first time I paid a visit to The Boyfriend’s place. I did get a quite a scare, at first. A quick trip to the bathroom after watching The Virgin Suicides revealed an electric toothbrush and a pink one of the plastic, manual variety. Obviously, he owned the electric one. But who, pray tell, owned the pink one? And really, pink?

Needless to say, my fears were unfounded. He actually owns both toothbrushes, though he prefers using the pink one, for some reason. It was probably that, more than anything, which allowed the relationship to move forward without too much drama on my end.

The toothbrush fairy tale doesn’t end there, however. I’ve been regularly spending the weekend with The Boyfriend since, and human as I am, I did the unthinkable one weekend – I forgot my toothbrush. I was about to take a quick trip to the 7/11 across the street when he takes out the virtually unused electric toothbrush, unwraps a brand new toothbrush head, and gives it to me. And, as if that wasn’t monumental enough, days later I found my toothbrush head still attached to its body, standing on his bathroom shelf like it totally belonged there. Like I totally belonged there. How did I know it was my toothbrush head? It had my name on it – literally. In bright red ink. (His toothbrush head also has his name on it in blue.)

To this day, my toothbrush head still stands sentinel on his bathroom sink. I like to think it’s watching over my man while I’m away, though I’ll never tell him that because he’ll probably freak out. Anyway, getting one’s own toothbrush head with one’s name on it prominently displayed on a shelf for all to see is a colossal step for all single women, not just in Bangkok, but the entire world. (Think Carrie getting the pink toothbrush head from Mr. Big in Sex and the City, except that it didn’t have her name on it, ha!)

So now I’m finally ready to answer that question that I asked months ago, to much controversy and judgment: Are there still farangs in Bangkok who aren’t just out to dip their wicks in as many Asian crevices as they can? Indeed, there are, and they don’t hoard pastel-colored toothbrushes. Instead, they would give you one of your own, possibly with your name on it. And if you’re lucky, one of them is probably right under your nose all along. I know I was.