Friday.

Last night was crazy. I went to the American Bar to play pool with my friend Finn and some other guys he knows. I hit them with my usual “play dumb while I warm up and then suddenly take over the table without warning” schtick I learned a long, long, long time ago. We had fun playing a few games.

One of his friends is a very tall Australian Guy who was running commentary on the games the whole time like he doing coverage for ESPN. It was hilarious! At one point he was like, “There’s been some really bad decisions made in this game today, folks.” It sounded perfect in his accent. It was a good time. We were all having fun.

I haven’t played pool in awhile. I’m actually quite good at it. I was like, “Is this something I can do for money? Be like a champion pool player or something? Or is that something really shady?” It’s probably shady. Uh, yeah, a pool tournament in Bangkok, Thailand? I can only imagine the scum and villainy I would encounter at such a spectacle. I’m sure there’s slime just dripping off the walls.

Sometime later, we went out front for a cigarette. This is when the little Scottish Imp arrived to stir some shit up. He immediately walked up to me and said, “You are that writer, Betsey Horton. Do you remember me? We’ve met here before.”

I’m sure that we have. I do not remember. However, thank you for remembering me. I love being famous.

At first he was relatively polite to me. He told me he has two wives. One in Thailand and one in Laos. Then he started crying because having two wives is soooooooo hard for him, you guys. Wahhhhhhh. I was just sitting there like, “What is happening right now?”

Then he followed me inside and suddenly his behavior totally changed. He became very rude. He said to me very loudly, “I heard you like your beef steaks. I heard you’ll go home with any guy. Will you go home with me?”

First of all, do you think you’re a beef steak, bro? Because I’m not sure those Scottish highland cows are the type of stock I’m looking for. Also, you just said you had two wives. Not one. Two. I’m not trying to get into your little polycule here.

Also, I have not been with anyone since my evening with my handsome Irish stranger, who may or may not be an actual potato in the light of day. I was not banned from the bar, but I was banned from “trophy hunting” at the bar. I don’t know if he was trying to teach me a lesson, but he definitely did.

Either way, it’s not okay for this random stranger to address me in such a rude manner. At first I laughed because I didn’t take him seriously at all. Then he started grabbing me, so I got all up in his face. I said, “Don’t talk to me that way. Stop touching me. I’m not available. I don’t know you. Do not disrespect me that way.”

I went back to my table and sat down with my friends. He kept walking by and trying to grab me even after I repeatedly told him to stop. This is when the Aussie Guy stood up and got in between us. They started fighting. Then this big dude from the Bronx came out of the back room, grabbed the Scottish Guy and escorted him outside. Luckily for everyone involved, there were no actual Irish people in the bar last night, otherwise it would have been a whole rugby-style pile.

They were out there for some time before the Scottish Guy returned to settle his tab. He looked at me with fear in his eyes and said, “I’m sorry for disrespecting you. I won’t do it again.” Then they walked him out, put him in a cab, and sent him away.

The Aussie Guy paid his tab and left, clearly feeling like he’d had too many. He also apologized to me and left. I didn’t think he had anything to apologize for. I thanked him instead.

The vibe turned pretty sour after that little incident, so Finn and decided to go down to the Pot Shop and drink at the their bar instead. I had a beer and he drank the kratom. The budtender and I agreed the kratom is definitely more of a “male energy drink.” It agrees with men more than women, at least in her experience. She says it does not agree with her. It definitely does not agree with me.

We just chilled and smoked and listened to hip hop. I love that place. It’s like hanging out in someone’s basement. They always have American shows on the TV. It’s always a fashion show on one TV and basketball games on the other. It’s almost always LeBron James classics. Then there’s posters all over the wall of famous rappers and athletes. It’s just a cool, chill spot. Nothing weird going on, unlike at the other location I was at the night before.

Then I came home and ordered McDonald’s for delivery because I am lazy and unhealthy and then I ate it and went to bed. Now I have to plan a trip to Vietnam before the big party tonight. Did I mention there is a big party tonight? Oh yes. There is a big party tonight. Let’s see what goes down.

Party, party, party. All play, no work. I am bad. I need to get my shit together. That’s why I gotta break out of the Bangkok Bubble and head to Vietnam. Maybe they have better work ethic there and it will inspire me to get shit done. I don’t really know what this new city will be like. I just know it can’t match the Bangkok Nightlife and I am very grateful for that.

Get me to the beach and bring me a fruity drink with a little umbrella in it. Just make sure there is no kratom in the cup or the umbrella will turn into the Kraken and start talking to me about the Seaspiracy.

Do not watch that documentary on magic mushrooms, by the way. It will haunt you forever, especially if you live in SEA.

I need to get moving now. I literally have to plan a whole trip to Vietnam. How exciting. I’ve got my Vietnam War Protest Playlist going on. I watched the documentary on Netflix. I’ve been doing research about the history of French colonialism. You know what that means? Delicious coffee and pastries in adorable little cafes by the beach. Hell to yes. So excited to visit Vietnam! I am going to eat ALL the food.

This will be country number seven on this trip! My goal is to get to at least 10. So exciting. I love getting my passport stamped! This is my dream come true!

Off now. Will report on the events at the big party tomorrow when I’m too hungover to leave my apartment. I’m sure it will be very eventful. It always is over there…