One Night in Phuket

One Night in Phuket

Keeping in character of a true-blue Aussie, I had one plan and one plan only for my first night in Phuket: getting farked arp. I have a pretty simple rule when it comes to “getting on it” and that is that eating is cheating. Admittedly I do love a good BYO dinner, but that’s mostly because my friends and I choose pov Asian restaurants to eat at, the type where Agedashi Tofu is about six bucks and the restaurant has no problem with you using their venue to get wasted. So in instances where I combine dinner and drinking, I like to order small. Besides, I want the alcohol to seep into my bloodstream, not my entrée, main and dessert. (I also need to leave enough room in my gut to smash a Hunger Buster deal from Maccas way later in the evening).

For this reason, I have no fucking idea why, but my boyfriend and I started our first night Phuket with a serious feed. We got roped into one of the expensive seafood restaurants where you carefully choose which lobster is cute enough to eat. We spent close to 1000 baht (quit judging me, you judgy hobo), but it was epic. After sucking every last bit of the little fella from its shell we rolled (literally) into the nearest bar that offered Britney-Spears-Oops-I-Did-It-Again inspired Thai dancers. We needed to get back on track, so quickly ordered two large vodka-redbull buckets. We soon realised we were sitting next to a couple who looked as though they’d just shared the romantic experience of tasting beer for the first time – FML. Naturally, we abandoned them instantly and moved along to chat up one of the waitresses and convince her the vodka-to-redbull ratio in our buckets was pathetic. Luckily, she was nice and pretended she cared enough to risk her job for us by taking our buckets out the back to add more vodka. Yeah mate! Cheers for the metho. But seriously… cheers. If I tried to write more about the night, I’d have to lie, because I seriously don’t remember much past that.

livy in phuket

What I do remember, however, is waking up the next day in a pool of orange vomit. It was in the bed, in my hair, on the floor, on my face and covering half the wall. It even reached my boyfriend’s suitcase (yes, somehow managed to boycott mine and projectile in his direction of the room). It gets cuter. Remember that 1000 baht I spent on lobster? Yeah. It was rank, and it smelled pretty bad too. So we showered and bailed so hard to the beach (pit stopping at McDonald’s of course) in the hope of passing out whilst getting a tan. I’ve literally never been more hung in my life.

Eventually, we forced ourselves to walk back to our hotel so we could be morbid in bed. I’d never been happier to see a vomit-free room in my life. After two minutes of being inside I heard a knock on the door. I opened to a small Thai woman trying to tell me that I had to pay her for the “extra cleaning” she had to do that morning. I blame my hangover for being so rude to the poor lady, but I was fucking outraged. How dare she charge me 100 baht for cleaning my vom?! Didn’t she know I was on a really tight budget after my restaurant meal the previous night? And worse, how dare she embarrass me like that in front of my boyfriend? I paid the money and it wasn’t until I saw my boyfriend’s face that I realised how much of a cunt I was being. I literally only had to pay her about $3.50AUD to rid the room of enough digested food to feed her for a week.

As a way of apologising (and avoiding awkwardness at the reception), we decided to lay off the metho that night. But if you plan on losing your mind or dignity in Phuket, I also suggest laying off the food, because you might wind up losing 100 baht instead

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