Saturday evening.

Here at the Pot Shop picking up my groceries. Exhausted after I stayed up partying all night.

I went to the American Bar for the Irish Party. It was a party for my Irish friend, who I now refer to as my “Irish Minder” since he’s been all up in my business this week. This is the gentleman who was a member of the IRA and dated both a Thai pop star AND a Beauty Queen. What an amazing sentence that was to write. He’s a big fan of my writing now. Isn’t that so fun?

Obviously I could not refuse an invitation to this party. I was dying to see who would be there. It was some real American Gangster shit. It was also full of lads. Just men, everywhere. I was drowning in beefcakes. It looked like he invited the football team, the rugby team, and the cricket team. Just lads everywhere. Two rooms full of lads. I don’t know how else to describe them. Just… lads.

Two rooms full of lads and I didn’t pick up a single one. I guess I am still too full from my previous serving from the buffet. I was also just looking around thinking, “Any one of these men could be married and lie straight to my face about it right now. I don’t need more of that shit in my life.”

I sat with Old Man Wiley and my Old Irish Uncle instead. As my Uncle was imparting some of his Irish wisdom upon me, his wife came over to the table and started screaming at me to stop talking to her husband. My Uncle kept saying, “She’s my niece, she’s my niece. She’s family. It’s not like that.” Then I had to say that he was like family to me, but she got even more upset and screamed, “He’s not your uncle, he’s my husband!” Girl, chill. Why not both?

Look at this mess. Some hot Irish beefcake forgets his wife and kisses me and now I’m the Whore of Bangkok? That is such a double standard! Such bullshit.

Anyway, he finally calmed her down and she left me alone. Her friends and her kept sitting there making comments in Thai about me and I was just like, “Girl, I don’t want to fuck your crusty old husband. Go away.”

Then I made some off-color joke about only liking handsome men with hot bodies and motioned around to the lads in the room. Some of them were real paper-baggers, but it’s all good. I was just there to enjoy the view, even if I was not in the mood to partake.

The evening was generally quite calm. There were no fights, which was nice. Well, aside from the argument between me and my Uncle’s Thai Wife, which I didn’t really participate in because ain’t nobody got time for that.

Ended up hanging out with my Finnish-American friend on my rooftop after bar close. I call him my Best World War II Ally. I don’t remember much of it. I just know we were up there drinking for quite a bit. Nothing happened that I know of because he’s just a friend. Sometimes it’s nice to just make a friend instead of having the rotating door of men going in and out of my elevator. Believe it or not, it does get old.

Now I am way too tired to do anything but go back to bed. Unfortunately I am being called down to the American Bar by Old Man Wiley. I absolutely do not have the energy to do anything tonight at all.

Off now. I will drop off Wiley’s grocery order for him and go home to bed. I am way too tired to have another crazy adventure tonight. I’m worn out from the last round. I started with a cruise to Mexico, then landed in Panama, and then somehow got caught in the middle of Ye Olde Irish-English Rivalree. There’s a lot going on in this bar already, and now you’re telling me the IRA is involved? And that this guy also dated a pop star? He said he was her bodyguard! Come on. How is that my real life right now? It’s like a movie.

I am so here for it! This is so much better than living in South Dakota! That place was such a shit hole. I am so grateful every day that I don’t live there anymore. There’s a new adventure awaiting me in Bangkok every day.

Definitely too tired for another crazy adventure. Good News: I did manifest an Aussie beefcake, but it’s just not the same. I think I’m gonna need more time to digest the Hot Beef Stew. There’s not much to digest now that I’ve written the story. Can you even believe I wrote that on a whim after mooning over a completely different person for two months? That’s wild.

I need to meet more Irish people, I think. Definitely. For sure.