Ok, ever start to tell a story about people you had not met, or met in passing, who had made fools of themselves, thus making a great story, but cannot remember what they look like? And then somewhere in the story you realize the story is about the people you are speaking with ... Uh, yeah, welcome to my morning. I should of been more keen on the Irish accent.
The girls below my bunk seem sweet enough, and we were all lounging in our beds way too late into the day. So I strike up a conversation, as I'm prone to do, and joke about the aircon and fans freezing us out in the middle of the night. That's when I learn about the dude who brought his sleeping bag and refuses to sleep with just sheets. Best part, he bogarts the aircon remote control late at night, turns it on 18 degrees Celsius, and pretends like it's lost until it magically appears in his bed in the morning, then hands it to the girls to warm it up. Thoughtful and considerate. This gets us talking about horror stories from hostels, which we've all had.
So the last time I was at Patong Backpackers, I hung with Holly and Annie, two girls from England. They were staying in the C3 dorm on the 3rd floor, one floor above my current accommodations. The day I arrived apparently so did some new bunk mates in their room, two Irish girls who wanted the bottom bunks. Annie walks into the dorm and sees all her stuff on the ground, and the girl is sitting on her bed. She tells her it's her bed, to which the girl replies, oh, I thought this free, since there was nothing on it. Of course there's nothing on it, she had thrown it all on the floor. Who does that? Who just throws peoples things on the ground? So late that night, Annie returns from hanging with us at Hollywood Bar to find that the girl once again in her bed and all the stuff she had on her bed was strewn about the room. Hairbrush by the door, chapstick by a window, clothes on the floor. When she wakes the girl to tell her to get out of her bed and go to the top bunk, the girl, clearly pissed, pun intended, gets up And tries to climb the bunk. She slips, hits her head on the bed, begins to ascend again, reaches the top, slips again but only onto the mattress on the top bunk, passes out. Hilarious for two reasons, 1. She's heavy and the image of it all sounds brilliant, and 2. She was rude and mean, so its what the Easterners would call Karma. And this is when I get interrupted, "where did you say these girls were from?" Ireland. "Oh". Insert uncomfortable silence here ... Uh, where are y'all from? "Ireland". And how long have you been in Patong Beach? "3 weeks, but we were in C3 for a week before we moved to this room." Uh huh ... so ... I'm just gonna throw it out there, is my story about you guys? "I thought it sounded familiar." Anyone know a good ENT Surgeon? My foot is officially lodged deep in my mouth!
Ironically, they were not rude, but took it in stride, we all laughed about it. They knew parts of the story, but parts were lost because apparently they were really drunk - no kidding - and felt a bit bad. I will see them again on Kho Phangan for the Full Moon party & they actually told me if I could not find a place, I could stay with them ... How amazing is that?
Went to the theater again, still nursing the shin burn. Patong Beach is not quaint and cool like Phi Phi, so the appeal to be on it is fleeting.
Watch Percy Jackson Lightening Thief, my review ... Eh, good concept, poor dialogue, cheap payoffs, lacking authentic emotion - do not recommend!
Percy is the bastard child of Poseidon, god of the Sea, but is unaware until some flying demon teacher tries to kill him. He lives with his mom and loser step-dad that is supposed to be a bruiser but is more of a cream puff, and he supposedly hates him, but displays the emotion and dialogue of annoyance more than embittered teenager. His dad is the key, he's angry he left him a a child, but you can't tell that until the end and barely at that. He's also a good kid from the beginning, supposedly a loser, but when was that? We never see that in the film. Long story short, it's a story about a decent kid who then finds out he's half god, and stays a decent kid while saving the planet, and ends up being a decent kid -boring!
That night I hit up dinner with Sophie (but I prefer to call her Shirley) and Hannah. The drinks with Haley and Karen (Aussies) and Mogley the Saffr (South African). Mogley might be the first westerner I have met with no idea of the technological revolution going on in the world today. He sees me playing on my iPhone, asks me what it is and if he can hold it. Blows his mind when I mention it's also an iPod, he just this day heard for the first time what that is. His family has a farm, no Internet, but Satellite TV. He's on facebook, but rarely checks it and has not a single photo he's uploaded himself, just the tagged ones. Amazing!
We hit up Hollywood Bar, buckets flow, I feel way too good and go for a "wander". Yeah, that's right, a "wander". It is 2am, Mogley had left an hour ago and the girls are ready to head back to the hostel. I said to the girls, "I'm gonna go for a wander", and walk off. It's funny because I don't think anyone has used that phrasing since 1824 in Ye Ole England. And wander I did, walk maybe all of Patong Beach before I happen upon a Brit named Thomas who asks, "Are you lost? You look lost. Do you know where you stay?" Of course I do, tell him and he offers me a ride back to the hostel on the back of his motorbike. We stop by 7-11, one on every corner here, I grab some water, and get back to the hostel by 4. Jump in the shower, finish my water, and hit the hay.
Nite nite and love ya Blogland: The iPhone Blogger!
Thursday, February 25, 2010
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