1. I have no idea where we would live.
When a Westerner marries a Cambodian woman, the couple has a very important initial decision to make. Should he move to Cambodia, or should she move to his country?
I don’t think I would be happy living in Cambodia. The type of work I do can’t easily be done in Cambodia. I’m too lazy to start a new career. So if I lived in Cambodia, I would essentially be semi-retired and living off savings. Without anything else to do, I’d undoubtedly become an alcoholic.
My wife, having never seen me work, wouldn’t respect me and would think I was making up stuff about once having a respectable job. Assuming that my wife is not working, we would spend a lot of time sitting in our Cambodian home staring at each other. That would get awkward. I would quickly start fabricating excuses to leave the house for no reason. She might then accuse me of having an affair, and I would have to say “No honey, I don’t have a girlfriend, I was just wandering the sweltering, filthy streets of Phnom Penh to get away from you for a few hours.” Not good.
Bringing my Cambodian wife to America would be an even worse idea. At least in Cambodia she would have friends, family, and a whole life outside of interacting with me. If I moved her to America, she would have none of these things. She’d end up sitting in my suburban house alone all day while I work. She’d have no one to interact with other than me. There’s no public transport near my house. Well, there’s probably a bus stop within walking distance, but no one rides the bus in America except creepy bus people.
I couldn’t foist her off on my family; my closest family lives 2,000 miles way. I’m an anti-social prick with few friends to introduce to her. My friends are mostly older, married professionals with wives in their mid-40’s. Their wives are not going to want to befriend my 22 year old, smoking hot Cambodian wife.
It would probably be difficult for a young Cambodian woman to get a driver’s license in the USA right away. The written driving tests require English proficiency, and Americans tend to frown on people who drive on the wrong side of the road for 100 meters before making a left turn.
So imagine my wife spending all day cooped up alone in my house, waiting patiently until I arrive home from work in the early evening. After work, I usually just like to eat dinner and sit around the house typing immature comments on internet discussion forums. But my stir crazy wife would undoubtedly want me to take her out of the house every evening to go to the beauty salon or buy tampons or whatever it is that women normally do when men are working. And what about weekends? I don’t want to spend my Sundays chauffeuring a woman on chick errands, when I could be doing something more productive, like watching twelve consecutive hours of NFL football.
2. I don’t want the stigma of marrying an Asian woman.
As I have previously mentioned, the stigma of being 40 years old and never married is quite bad. The stigma of being 40 and suddenly married to a 22 year old Southeast Asian woman could be worse. Sure, my co-workers would probably stop thinking “He must be gay.” Instead, they would think, “What a schmuck. And that poor, poor girl. I wonder what sick things he does to her at home.”
My Cambodian wife and I would be an obvious mixed race couple with a noticeable age difference. People in America might stare. Some Americans would see her brown skin and assume that I married my Mexican cleaning lady. Others might guess that I got my dark skinned Asian wife from the Philippines. That would be the worst. Only desperate losers marry women from the Philippines.
I suppose there are similar stigmas when marrying women from other countries. But if I marry a hot young Ukrainian bride, at least she would be white. People wouldn’t know she was a green card-seeking golddigger until she opened her mouth.
3. Cambodian women don’t age well.
Every year people buy hundreds of thousands of puppies. They enjoy their cute puppy antics for a while. Then the puppies become unattractive, smelly, loud, annoying, dogs. So their owners get sick of them and abandon them at the dog pound.
Young Cambodian women are a lot like puppies. When they are in their late teens and early twenties, they are exceptionally cute. They are fun and playful and they always act excited to see you. Sometimes they pee on your foot.
But after age 30, these cute young Cambodian women quickly turn into cackling, wrinkled, pajama-wearing, betel-chewing Medusas. You see very few well-preserved middle aged Cambodian women. The woman in the photo above is only 43.
Of course, today’s generation of middle-aged Cambodian women lived through the Khmer Rouge period, where they were forced into hard labor in the blistering sun and presumably did not have regular access to Oil of Olay. So maybe they should get a pass.
My point is this. When I’m 70 years old, do I really want to be stuck with a fiftysomething year old Cambodian hag, while all my elderly friends at R & R bar are boasting about shagging twenty year old hostesses? No, I do not.
4. I don’t want a half-motodop baby.
Hear me out on this. I don’t like motodops. They are slow-witted, annoying, directionally-challenged imbeciles. It’s not their fault. Most motodops are the genetic product of a poor, uneducated Cambodian father and a poor, uneducated Cambodian mother. We all know the theory about the Cambodian gene pool being weakened by Pol Pot killing all the smart people. Motodops are the primary evidence supporting that theory.
If I marry a poor, uneducated Cambodian woman, and then she bears us a child, my kid is going to be 50% Gavinmac weirdo, 50% motodop retard. That’s a very scary thought.
To be honest, I don’t want kids at all, whether genetically disadvantaged or otherwise. I don’t like being around kids for more than ten minutes. I can stand them just long enough to do my Bill Cosby-type routine where I interview them and ask them dumb questions. “How old are you, kid? 5? Do you have a job? I had a job when I was 4.” Then I laugh hysterically and the kid runs and hides behind his mother’s leg. That’s all I know about kids.
But even though I firmly believe that children are overrated, useless scourges of the earth, I realize that my Cambodian wife won’t feel the same way. One of the main reasons why Cambodian women marry white men is so that they can have a half-white baby. Cambodian women dream of proudly holding up that half-white baby in front of their mesmerized friends, like that scene in the beginning of “Raiders of the Lost Ark” when Belloq thrusts the golden idol over the heads of the bowing Hovito warriors. Cambodian women live for that half-white baby worshipping moment.
If an exceptionally pale-skinned guy like me denied my young Cambodian bride her trophy brat, it would be disastrous to the relationship. She would absolutely hate me for it, even if she had agreed to a strict “no baby” clause in our pre-nuptial contract scribbled in lipstick on a hostess bar napkin. Really, a white guy marrying a Cambodian woman and decreeing “but I’ll never give you a half-white baby” is like Julia Child marrying a fat man and declaring “but I’ll never cook for you.” I just couldn’t do that. It’s a dick move.
5. The paperwork sounds like a real hassle.
Marrying a Cambodian woman apparently involves a lot of paperwork. You have to go to the Sangkat. I don’t even know what a Sangkat is. You need documentary proof that you’re single, proof that you make $2500 per month, proof that you’re not a criminal, proof that you don’t have AIDS. Then you need to get this stuff translated. I think the wife needs to get some kind of “family book,” and has to have papers stamped in her village. I’ve heard that dowries may have to negotiated and bribes may have to be paid.
This all sounds like a real headache. And if I want to bring a wife back to the U.S., we need to apply to the U.S. embassy for a marriage visa or a fiancee visa. More fucking paperwork. Endless forms. Photos. Documentary proof that we really know each other. Interviews with officious civil servants. I hear that the whole process can take months or even years. Meanwhile, the waiting period in the U.S. to buy a handgun and kill myself is only three days.
On the other hand, if I find an American woman I fancy, I could marry her at a classy downtown Las Vegas wedding chapel in about two hours. No lengthy paperwork or negotiations. This appeals to me. I’ve always been kind of an impulse shopper.
6. A Cambodian wife would embarrass me in public.
Do you remember the phase you went through between the ages of 13-17 when you were embarrassed to be seen in public with your parents? When you would cringe whenever they opened their mouths in front of your friends? Yeah, I actually never outgrew that.
I’m easily embarrassed by the slightest social faux pas committed by myself or my companions. Now, one of the entertaining aspects of hanging out with young Cambodian women is that they can be spontaneous, carefree, and naive, and you never know what funny thing they are going to say next. I would absolutely hate those qualities in a wife though. l already have enough social anxiety without worrying about my wife saying something ridiculous in public at any moment. I’m afraid that if I married a Cambodian woman, I could turn into an obnoxious husband who is constantly “shushing” my wife because I’m afraid that she may suddenly ask the waitress whether potatoes come from the ocean.
Or consider this scenario. Imagine that I take my Cambodian wife to a nice dinner party in America. Imagine that she dazzles my friends and co-workers with her natural beauty, grace, and charm for the better part of three hours. And then, just as dessert is served, she takes the opportunity during a lull in the conversation to stick her right index finger about two inches up her nostril for no apparent reason. Really, some of these Cambodian women are just cute little public-nose-picking-embarrassment-ticking-time bombs. You never know when they are going to start excavating in there.
7. I would always wonder if she really loved me.
So there’s that.
I might initially be fairly happy with a beautiful young Cambodian wife, even if I knew that part of the reason why she married me was for financial security. I don’t have a problem with that right now. I’m OK with her not loving me in the “Western sense.”
But over the years, I think feelings of resentment would eat away at me. I would wonder if she would have preferred to marry a Cambodian guy her own age, had the economic situations been equal. I would wonder if she really wants to be with me or if she just likes central air conditioning and the “holographic chat” feature on her new iPhone 17. Every time she asked for a bit more money for her family, I would wonder whether that was the main reason why she married me in the first place.
My insecurities would probably just get worse as I get older and closer to death, with the awareness that my younger wife might only be sticking around for her pending windfall inheritance. At the very least, I would probably end up as a bitter, half-senile 80 year-old man who loudly whispers to all the visitors to our house, “You know, she only married me for money. She never loved me. And she steals forks.”
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