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| WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! |
I've been consistently surprised at just how much people from other countries can drink. The winner in this contest is probably the Irish, who are just fucking crazy, but there are a lot of surprising contestants for the runner-up spots.
Scandinavians, for example, are some little known crazy mother-fuckers. This is a true story that I won't go into, but I basically got out drank by some Finnish highschool girls in Helsinki. I wouldn't discount anyone from the Baltic States or old Soviet satellite countries either. When I was in Estonia I was told that during the Cold War beer was in terribly short supply and so all they had was vodka. The national average during that period was almost a liter of pure vodka a day. HOLY SHIT. And we haven't even discussed the Germans yet.
My only point being alcohol is ubiquitous. Which makes sense, because everyone has to get laid somehow.
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| The local poison |
Liquor wise, they have a strange fondness for Johnny Walker. Your other option is the cheap (and dangerous) local stuff. We sampled some Lao Lao, or rice whiskey, which Anthony Bourdain rightly described as "Jet Fuel." It wasn't any worse then 151, which isn't saying much. Also popular in places that cater to foreigners are "Buckets", which are like they sound, buckets filled with cheap whiskey and some mixers. Enjoy the hangover.
Okay, story time.
On our second night in Laos one of Tony's cousins took us out to a club. In the grand tradition of college students everywhere, we got drunk. Really drunk. Tony's cousin kept ordering the buy 6 beerlaos, get 2 free deal at the restaurant, which is the equivalent of ordering rounds of 16 beers at a time. This is before we even got to the club.
The club we went to was very modern, crazy lights, etc. Normally I hate clubs because the drinks are absurdly overpriced and the music is cranked to Jet Engine decibel levels. But the drinks at this place were cheap (not that we needed them) and it was a completely foreign country, so I'd be an asshole to not have fun.
From the moment we walked in I just could not stop laughing. It was completely surreal because this place was PACKED with the young, hip Vientiane crowd. In general I noticed Asians are pretty reserved dancers-- they tend to keep their personal space and mostly just move their hands around. The funny part was that all of the music was the same pop-club shit you'd hear in America. Lady Gaga. Rihanna. Etc. The visual of all the Asian people doing their little reserved hand dances to all these familiar songs had me cracking up. I didn't think I could get any happier...
Until they started playing hardcore Gangsta Rap. I don't know what song it was but I believe the lyrics went something like:
NIGGA AIN'T GOT SHIT, NIGGA AIN'T GOT SHIT. FUCK YOU NIGGA YOU AIN'T GOT SHIT
I looked around at all the happy, placid Lao people doing their little hand dances to NIGGA AIN'T GOT SHIT and I completely fucking lost it. I could Not. Stop. Laughing. Just thinking about it makes me all warm and tingly inside. The only way I could possibly have a better memory is if they played "SHOTS."
Meanwhile, Tony was so drunk that he was attempting to order a bottle of Johnny Walker and was getting denied, and Ressa was having a "conversation" with an Asian dude. And by conversation I mean he was shouting the same English words over and over under the apparent assumption that talking loudly bridges the language barrier.
At a certain point Tony's cousin wisely decided we should probably leave, at which point it became my job to extract Ressa from his riveting conversation.
It was during this process that I exchanged a friendly smile and Sabaidee (hello) with Ressa's new Lao friend. He responded to my hello by playfully grabbing my nipples. Well then. Every culture is different I suppose.
"I'm Kwei," he said.
"I'm Nate," I replied.
"Nonono," he shook his head, "I'm gway"
"Gway?" I tried to pronounce it.
Two things happened at once: one I, realized what he was saying. Two, he squeezed my penis.
"Oh, you're GAY."
That would not be the last time I came in contact with a "friendly" gay asian on the trip.
Back in the tuc-tuc, Ressa and Tony were on the verge of passing out. But first, I had some interrogation to do.
"Dude, Ressa, you know that guy you were talking to for an hour was gay right?"
"Yeah, he kept grabbing my dick."
HAHAHAHAHA. Who talks to a gay guy for an hour as he repeatedly grabs your dick? Ressa does. Fill in your own jokes here.
Our plan to sneak in without Tony's parents noticing was complete failure. They were both awake waiting for us. Tony's mom was very worried about her sons condition, and Tony's dad laughed for about 5 straight minutes.
"Man, look at him! Why he drink so much! Ha Ha Ha! Now he feel like shit in morning. Ha Ha Ha!"
God I love Tony's Dad.
With his parents watching, Tony ran out of the tuc-tuc, took off his hat, and puked in it.
Ressa, meanwhile, argued with me that he didn't need to go inside, he could "sleep in the vehicle." Then Tony's mom came over and he argued the same with her. Eventually we got him out. He promptly walked over to the bushes and puked.
The fun wasn't quite over yet though. Tony went straight into the house, got completely naked, turned the shower on, and promptly passed out in the tub. I could wake him up so I knew he wasn't going to die, but I couldn't get him to get out of the shower for the life of me.
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| David and I decided this was the next best alternative. |
The final kicker came sometime later in the night when I woke up to see a buttnaked Tony stumbling out of the bathroom... with his parents helping him walk. Stop and think for a moment. Can you think of a more embarrassing situation? Getting dragged out of a bath-tub, naked, by your parents.
Yeah.
Overall, not bad for our second night in Laos, eh?
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