I’ve written about Patong before and how to deal with it. I apologise for my delay in writing this piece of history. This one night in Patong I got so incredibly wasted and ended up partying for the fucking alphabet, not just the A-Team. Har har.
I guess once you hit a certain age, you can openly discuss your ‘tales of your youth’ without feeling the shame. I was such a wild child, but now – I’m mature and more ‘together’. Fuck riiiight off nobody believes you, but tell me your story nonetheless you whore.
OK fiiine, I’ll tell you.
Most stories start with “it all started with innocent enough intentions” – this story ain’t one of them. I was teaching at the time and if you haven’t heard, my connection with kids is somewhat limited. So I was blowing off some steam and was looking to get a little Hangover festive. The hunt for drink specials was on, the 3 ciders in my system weren’t hitting the spot – I wasn’t drunken texting or making bad choices. “This is child’s play! Give me the Thai vodka and cocaine red bull!” – I will note here that there has been no conclusive study that proves there is cocaine in said red bull, so I am still indeed, an angel.
We find this white neon club, the name is of no relevance – in other words I succeeded in my hunt and can’t remember fuck-all. The drink special was ridiculous. Unlimited spirits and red bull, for three whole hours. I’d found my people. Now, I would like to mention that I wasn’t one of those cheapies who sat AT the bar. However, the fact that the chairs and tables were movable made moving to exactly ONE meter from the bar that much easier. I got drunk, the end.
I remember drinking with two New Zealand guys that were covered in tribal tattoos and injected directly into their asses. I know this, because I still have about 140 photos of them, some are rather blurry. SO, three hours is up. I’m sure I dropped lip and crossed my arms because I’m so horrendously fucking cute. What a cringe. I blinked and I mastered the art of teleportation, this newly acquired skill stuck around for the entire night – allowing me to achieve the following:
– I’m at Tiger Bar getting really close with a female dancer. Not in that way, I was looking at pictures of her son on her phone having a DMC like a ma’fucking Drake album.
– Heyooooo. I’m on the beach. I’m upside down. My handstand abilities always reveal themselves at the right time. After ‘gracefully’ righting myself, I glance around and can’t find my sister or anyone I knew. What actually happened was I decided I was far too hammered to exist so I went back to our hostel, only to discover that I was far too hammered to stop my night at the appropriate time. I had to embarrass myself a little further.
– I’m in such a swanky ass hotel. It was at that point that I realized I had no shoes. My new ‘friends’ were having a party and I hope I provided the appropriate entertainment cause…
– I’m on a lounger by a pool. Correction, I’m Britney Spears on a lounger by the pool. Love how I just turn into a sensual person when drunk. Not.
– I’m in a random bar shouting at a Scottish dude that South Africans hate the Scottish. Sir, my deepest apologies – I am a royal twat with little regard for the emotional state of the Scottish.
– You know those movies with the Jack The Ripper type alleyways and the comical spooky lighting? Yeah, I’m there. To this day I’m not sure if I was sent by someone to pick up some drugs or organs. If that was the case I apologise because…
– I’m in my bed. I wake up and look over at my sister who growls at me – “Where the FUCK were you?!”
“I have no idea, but I’m about 97% sure I’m still horrendously wasted.”
I’m allowed to tell this story because I survived, unscathed. I ask you to please use better judgment than I; the Scottish are terrific people.
You only live once. Shot Drake.
Would I recommend Patong? Absolutely! It’s something to experience and then completely forget.
Until the next flashback,