Our night at the gay bar, gay bar

Good news: I have not yet stopped being a drunken idiot.
Exhibit A: Me Smirking At Being Photographed With Lesbians in the Background (left).
Exhibit B: Me Trying To Drink A Candle Floating In Water Because I Thought It Was Vodka, and Exhibit C: Me Giving Out My Phone Number To Some Random Thai Woman At A Noodle Vendor.

The picture was taken at a bar called Tapas, where I saw no tapas, so must assume it's a euphemism for gayness that I haven't heard yet. The music was pretty ghey and an ugly blonde girl gave me a death stare for no reason (like, what are you - 16?) but as you can tell, I found it within myself to have a good time.

When that shut we went to the noodle street vendor where we shared a table with a widow called Ann, her unsmiling katoey sibling and this chick who apparently worked there. After regaling them with our presence for an hour they told us the bill was 3200 baht. Which is complete bullshit since you could buy Thailand for that much and still have money left over for Cambodia but we just paid and left because we're pussies.

I place the blame for the proverbial bottom raping squarely on the shoulders of Jon, who earlier had paid 500 baht for the waitress to give him her t-shirt, made back-handed comments about ladyboys - not realising that the person on his immediate right was one - and was 'overly sympathetic' to the widow. She kept ringing me later that night, but I hit the 'silent' button every time. Showed her.

At the next place we played pool and drank and it was kind of sleazy and pointless but no one tried to rip us off.

Next week: more things happen.