You might also like
Find us on Facebook
You hear the stories, but you never think it’s going to happen to you. They are the stories of ‘that night’ in Thailand when the definition of drunkenness is redefined. When you woke up only to learn from your buddies that you got naked, stood up on a table, and peed on every one.
Thankfully, at least this time, I wasn’t the one peeing on people. Instead I awoke to another kind of hangover hell. The kind of hangover filled with haunting half memories that can only be inspired by a combination of Thai Whiskey and the date rape drug.
My eyes slowly creaked open under a deep sleep’s crust. The world was still a blur. I had no idea where or even what I was. Conscious thought struggled to return.
As I looked to my left, I saw two pretty Thai girls sleeping next to me. “That’sss niceeee,” I drunkenly thought to myself with a smile.
“Wait! Who in god’s name are they and where the hell am I??”
I was instantly overcome by panic. I laid still. I didn’t want the girls to wake before I could find some memory to grasp. Though I begged for a memory – any memory – to return, none did.
“Alright, just relax,” I said consolingly to myself. “You couldn’t have done anything too stupid. Just start from the beginning of the night and see if anything returns.”
I arrived at the infamous full moon party beach at around 4pm. I had just had a minor scooter accident and I was looking forward to soaking my wounds and having a drink in the sea.
While ordering my drink, I met another American named Kate. Like myself, she was from New York, and had also coincidentally lived in Japan. As we talked, we drank, and it wasn’t long before the Chang beers combined with the heat of the day to get me feeling pretty tipsy.
In no time, the sun had descended and the haze of night had engulfed the bay. Soon after, Kate’s hostel friends joined us. They were four girls from Denmark and three guys from Canada. After slurping down another 4 or 5 beers, we were ready to hit the party.
Right from the get go, we got ourselves those notorious buckets filled with Redbull and Thai whiskey. With this, the party had commenced.
The bass was booming and backpackers from all over the world were dancing as if in heat. Everyone kept sipping on their buckets. When mine ran out, I started taking sips from any bucket I could find (looking back, this is how I probably got drugged). The last thing I remember was blowing fire from my mouth trying to pop a balloon.
And then…there was nothing.
I still couldn’t remember anything past the fire blowing. Stressed by questions, I no longer cared what the girls would think of me. I couldn’t contain myself any longer – I had to know what had happened!
Not caring whether they could understand me or not, I awoke the girls with a barrage of questions. “How did I meet you? Did you drug me? Did we have sex? Where are we? What happened!?”
They stared back at me drowsily while I paced back and forth inside our tiny hotel room. “Just calm down,” one of the girls said to me. “Don’t worry, I tell you what happen at breakfast.”
I continued to pace while they took showers and got ready. As time passed, brief clips of the night begin to trickle back into my brain.
I suddenly remembered the Polish guy next door who showed me a naked passed out prostitute lying on the bed. He kept yelling, “Get rid of her, I want her to go.” To which I drunkenly replied “I don’t know, where….what is…ok….good luck?”
At breakfast, one of the girls finally began to tell me what had happened. To my bewilderment, she said that I had almost had sex with a 50 year old Thai women in a red dress on the beach. She also told me of the guy who peed on everyone including us. After which she rescued me and brought me back to her hotel. She swore we hadn’t had sex, but I couldn’t be sure. I stared at her incredulously. I couldn’t remember any of it.
Eventually, I submitted to the fact that I would never truly know what happened. I relaxed and started putting my energy towards hooking up with the beautiful Thai girl in front of me.
Long story short, despite a wicked and anxiety-ridden hangover, though I can hardly remember it, it was probably one of the best nights ever. On top of that, I ended up hitting it off with that Thai girl and spent a week with her in bungalow paradise. Moral of the story being, if you’re not as lucky as me, stay away from the Thai buckets.
Author of The Runaway Guide blog, Leif was 16 when he ran away from home and explored much of Europe and the Middle East without a dime. He is currently working on a book about this adventure as he continues to make new ones traveling the world. Through his experiences, advice and adventures, he hopes to prepare, empower, and inspire others to travel.