After the initial excitement about being asked to judge Miss International Queen 2006, my feelings of joy were soon turned into feelings of resentment and bemusement. The short story is this: I didn’t get to go. The long story is not particularly exciting, but I guess I should tell it anyway.

It was the editor of Guru who first suggested that I may be able to do it through his friend’s PR company. He gave me a number which I called and an hour later I received an email and then a phone call formally inviting me to attend. I accepted and everything seemed to be in place. I asked if my girlfriend would be able to accompany me and was told everything would be arranged. I received the invite and some info about the show. I was quietly ecstatic, this was a once in a lifetime type of thing.

I didn’t realize it was to be on television, but when I did I enquired about what I should wear. The PR company initially told me wear “a nice shirt.” An hour later the lady told me to wear “a nice shirt with a necktie.” Then half an hour after that she told me to find a jacket. I explained that I didn’t have one but would find one.

A man named Courtney called me later that evening to confirm everything and told me where to go the following night to pick up my hotel reservation and tickets. He told me it was to be on live TV so I should get myself a suit. I said this was fine and I would see him tomorrow.”

I managed to find a jacket, cleaned my shoes (without any polish) and got everything in order. I was set to leave straight after work with my girlfriend the following day. All was well until out of the blue, the PR company called me and told me that I didn’t need to go anymore. The way I was told was as if they were doing me a favour by messing up by weekend. After all the fuss that had been made they fobbed me off with some excuses and told me that they would invite me to the Miss Tiffany pageant next May. I hung up abruptly in a state of shock.

One angry text message to Courtney later and I was again fobbed off with some more excuses. The problem was, apparently, that I had said I would have to find a jacket, which I did, late Thursday night. I told Courtney that his company was completely unprofessional and that he had ruined my weekend. I also sent a long email to the PR company.

After all that excitement I left work and caught the last van down to Hua Hin on Friday night and spent three days looking at dead fish and horses. It was all very “Thai” how my weekend (and my girlfriend’s) was turned upside down with a childlike carelessness. I’m not normally so bitter but I was genuinely pleased to have the chance to do something like this.

So that’s that. My big moment dashed and my story written off before I even left Bangkok. What I was most disappointed about was that I wouldn’t get to write about my adventure. I planned to write about it for several people and I told everyone with a sort of immature enthusiasm that I had been invited to Pattaya for this event. How sad, and how feeble my tales of this weekend’s activities will now look.