PATTAYA, THAILAND – An Austrian tourist on a beach holiday in Pattaya discovered that his supposed exclusive relationship was in fact a shared arrangement with several other foreign men.
The man who thought he had a girlfriend, not a share in a portfolio
Franz Huber from Vienna arrived in Pattaya intending to relax with sun, beach and a cold Chang beer, and perhaps meet someone special. He met Som, who showed him local street food stalls, explained the difference between “a bit spicy” and “you will cry,” and laughed warmly at his attempts to speak Thai. Huber was enthusiastic about the new acquaintance.
He did not yet suspect that he was not the only one feeling this enthusiasm. The situation changed when phone calls began to interrupt the holiday calm.
The cousins theory: when Thailand suddenly gained the world’s biggest extended family
Within one week, four different “cousins” called Som’s phone. One caller had a British accent, another sounded Swiss, and one clearly came from Bavaria. Huber muttered to himself that Thailand was a big country and pushed the doubts aside like an empty bread roll on a Viennese breakfast table.
The theory held because he wanted it to hold. That quiet self-deception started to falter only when the phone began to vibrate more often.
“Miss you, darling” – a message that made the tourist think
In a restaurant, a heart symbol and the words “Miss you, darling” appeared on Som’s display. Huber cleared his throat, and Som smiled. She explained the message with a single word: “Friend.” Huber nodded slowly and began counting in his head, assuming he was friend number one and wondering who might be number two.
That evening he learned that the Thai word for “friend” could be far more generous in meaning than anything defined in the German Duden. What followed for him was an unplanned philosophical journey about language and expectations.
“Friend is friend” – a phrase that almost sent a Viennese into meditation
Huber asked Som directly whether he was her friend. She nodded enthusiastically and replied,
“Yes, you my friend!”
said Som, his Thai companion. He felt relieved until she added,
“But you also good friend.”
said Som, leaving him to wonder about the difference.
The distinction between “friend” and “good friend” remained unclear and open to interpretation. Huber decided he could live with being a “good friend” if necessary, unaware that a WhatsApp group was already waiting for him.
“My Sweet Boys ❤️”: the group where an Austrian found his place
While his phone lay on the table, Huber tried not to look at it. Then it vibrated. On the display appeared a group titled “My Sweet Boys ❤️” with four members: Mike from Britain, Hans from Germany, Pierre from France and Huber from Austria.
He leaned back and stared at the four national flags next to the names, briefly considering whether he was looking at a kind of mini EU commission or an informal shared household. He chose another sip of beer before addressing the subject.
The confrontation: one question, two different understandings of numbers
Huber asked Som why he had been added to a group called “My Sweet Boys.” She glanced at the phone and answered that it was “friends.” Looking at the list of four names, he then asked how many friends she had. She replied,
“Not so many.”
said Som, using a phrase that seemed highly elastic in that moment.
There was no argument and no open drama. Instead, two people faced each other with very different ideas of what a number could mean in the context of relationships. For Huber, the experience became an example of real-time cultural mediation, mixed with a dose of humor.
The experienced German at the bar sums up Pattaya in one sentence
The next day, Huber met a German man at a bar and cautiously asked whether a girlfriend in Thailand could have several friends at the same time. The man laughed so loudly that his beer nearly spilled and then told him,
“My friend, you are still new here.”
said an experienced German bar patron.
For Huber, that short sentence contained more practical knowledge about life in Pattaya than any travel guide. He finished his beer and resolved to reorder his view of the situation, this time without turning it into a mathematics exercise.
The philosophical phase: calm conclusions on a balcony
Sitting on a balcony with a beer in hand, Huber asked himself whether he was actually unhappy. He concluded that they laughed a lot, the food was good and the excursions were enjoyable, so the honest answer was no.
A second question followed: did the other men know about one another as well? Huber took another sip and considered the possibility that they might all be sitting on separate balconies at the same time, doing similar calculations in their heads. For him, it was a strangely comforting thought.
“You are my favorite friend” – a title with unclear conditions
One day Som told him,
“You are my favorite friend.”
said Som, offering a new label. When Huber asked about the others, she replied,
“Also friends.”
said Som, confirming that the list of companions remained longer than he could define.
He accepted the role of favorite friend with quiet composure, even though he still did not know how many others were on that informal ranking. As a Viennese, he reminded himself that his home city had survived busier situations, from crowded markets to heavy traffic on the Ringstrasse.
Viennese pragmatism wins: what is shared in Vienna and in Pattaya
One evening Huber remarked that in Vienna people at most shared a taxi. Then he added with a grin that in Thailand people apparently sometimes shared a girlfriend as well. Som laughed loudly and told him,
“You funny, Franz.”
said Som, approving of his sense of humor.
Huber nodded and stayed, concluding that being considered funny was a good reason not to leave. Somewhere in Pattaya, three other men were probably sitting on balconies with beers in their hands, wondering whether they were friend number one, two, three or four. In this corner of Thailand, the answer seemed to depend very much on the situation.