Where you go!?

I am in bed with a super hot forehead. That's right, case three of the flu-like symptoms. Fever, cold sweats and aches, but this time with a splitting headache. I spent today changing my travel plans to accommodate. I got most of my money back for my bus ticket to Hanoi. I had looked up the health care options there just in case and found that Vietnam doesn't care much about your health at all. My plan was to tour the country for a month so I'm not going to show up in questionable health. Luang Prabang doesn't have much to offer either so I booked a flight to Bangkok for tomorrow morning. I made an appointment to get checked out tomorrow afternoon. While I'm there, I'm definitely going to hit up a chiropractor too. That, I am excited about. I'm not terribly concerned about all this and I definitely had not anticipated going back to Thailand so soon, much less Bangkok, but better that than risk being caught with malaria in the middle of nowhere.

In spite of my misery today, I feet pretty lucky. I kept crossing paths with a couple who was in much worse shape than I. The guy was scraped up everywhere, two black eyes, all bandaged up, and the girl could barely walk a snails pace. Using the guy as her crutch, she walked backwards, moving her good leg, if I dare call it that, in the direction they were going, six inches at a time, and literally dragging her other foot behind. I don't know what the hell happened to these two but it was painful to watch. They were out and about all day though. Every time I thought I felt bad for myself, I happened to run into them. I kept thinking, at least I can walk! And my recovery won't be nearly as long, painful, or miserable as theirs.

Enough about that. I have a story to tell. Once upon a Thursday night, I was heading to the night market when I ran into a guy and a girl staring at a map. I figured since I had been here for over a week already that I would offer my assistance. I didn't end up being particularly helpful, but I did point out where we were on the map and showed them what the orientation was. Result: friends for a night. We grabbed a fruit shake together (I f*&#ing love fruit shakes! I take two a day.) and I proceeded to show them a few of the cool hangouts around town. We settled down at the Lao Lao Bar for dinner.

The guy was French and the girl was half British, half Australian, and a mighty fine blend at that. They had just arrived from Hanoi by plane, which is actually how they met.

While we were ordering our food, we made an extremely poor last minute decision to share a bucket. The Law of Buckets states that you can't have just one. The dude abides. By the end of dinner, we were feeling pretty good. We discussed the options for what to do next. Unfortunately it was already past 11 and Luang Prabang loosely enforces a midnight curfew. Everything closes at 11:30. Everything except the bowling alley that is. I had been hearing about this place all week and was pretty curious.

My new friends weren't interested which left no other option than to call it a night. I pointed them towards their guesthouse before heading off in the opposite direction towards mine. I was slightly disappointed that the night had ended so abruptly. But right as I was telling myself that it was a good idea to get to bed, I heard the infamous call of the tuk tuk driver. "Tuk tuk! Where you go?" They always hang out by the bars at closing time. I shook my head out of habit. But then I stopped walking and thought to myself, I may not be ready for bed just quite yet. I negotiated a $2 ride to the bowling alley and got in, sealing the deal on my second terrible decision of the evening.

Going bowling! Thanks Mr. Tuk Tuk!

When I got there, it was pretty much what I expected. A dozen lanes, a bar, a few tables, and a whole bunch of drunk idiots. I didn't realize until later that I was one of them. I spotted a girl in the crowd that I had briefly talked to back at the Lao Lao bar. I had tried to help her get over a case of the hiccups. No, that's not code for anything either, although I'm sure that would work. I walked up and said hello and asked if I could join her and her friends for bowling. She kindly agreed and introduced me to her boyfriend and the rest of the gang. At that point, I made my third terrible decision of the evening and went in on a bottle of Lao whiskey. Not that I had to make much of a contribution, the entire fifth with a liter of Pepsi and a bucket of ice came out to $5.  Remember what I said about cheap booze?

We bowled a game and hung out a bit, then decided to call it. I hopped in a tuk tuk with the girl and her boyfriend and headed back into old town. We stood in the road and exchanged drunken philosophies on life for a good hour. Finally around 3:30 or so we exchanged emails and said goodbye. They were a super fun and good looking couple. The kind you can't help but be happy for.

As I walked home, I began to realize that my feet felt a little funny. I looked down to find that I was still wearing the bowling shoes. It was too late to go back. I laughed at my drunken stupidity but thought of how upset I would be if I lost those shoes for good. As these thoughts were circling through my head, a very gay drunk Lao guy drove by on his scooter and said, "hey, where you go?!" Again, out of habit I just shook my head. But again, I reconsidered. When he asked me again, because they always ask you again, I pointed at the clown shoes I was wearing and said "I left my shoes at the bowling alley." As nervous as I was to get on a motorbike with this excuse for a dude, I would never forgive myself if I didn't end up getting my shoes back. I agreed to pay him $4 if I got my shoes back.

I hopped on and we were off. When we got there the gate was closed. He yelled something in Lao and a guy showed up a minute later. He pointed at the shoes I was wearing and explained the situation. The guy looked at me and smiled, and we were immediately granted access. It was obvious that they knew each other. I realized then how insanely lucky I was. I always am. We went in and I found my shoes, I tipped the guy who let us in, and we were off again.

The ride home was anything but comfortable. First, my new friend here tried to take an alternate route. I said, "no no no no no." He told me it was faster but I knew the way so I knew he was lying. He turned around to go the right way. A few minutes in, he starts to tell me how cold he is as he pushes back up against me. I kindly told him that I wasn't interested. Not 30 seconds later, he leaned back into me and started rubbing my leg. Having let go of the handle bars with one hand, we swerved a bit. This time I was much more stern in my response. Aside from his having no respect, I was beginning to question my safety. Finally, he apologized and backed off. The rest of the way back he told me all about how he liked to pick up drunk straight white guys late at night. He made it sound like he often got what he wanted. I wondered how drunk or curious these guys would have to have been. Anyway, I had him drop me off a few blocks from my guesthouse so that he wouldn't "accidentally" find me again. I gave him his $4 and walked away. After all he had told me, I couldn't help but smile at the thought of how that exchange must have looked to an unsuspecting bystander.