| :: Full
Moon Rising ::
[6:32 p.m.] I descend onto the beach
at Hat Rim Bay from my cliffside tree
house on the Laem Hat Rim peninsula.
Tonight’s the legendary Ko Pha-Ngan
Full Moon Party, and I’ve come
out early to checkout party preparations
on the beach, have dinner, and slowly
begin lubricating myself for a full
night of dancing. The beach is still
pretty empty, but I hear that the party
doesn’t really get going until
at least 11:00p.m. The bars along the
beach have begun pumping out deafening
megawatts of dance music, each a different
style – techno, top 40 pop, europop,
house, reggae. Bartenders are lining
up bottles on makeshift beachside bars
and are cutting up lemons and other
garnish. The most disturbing sight has
to be the Thai navy frigate-class gunship
anchored in the bay – a little
reminder that thousands of westerners
congregating on a single beach in Southeast
Asia makes for a pretty good terrorist
target. Hmmm. Better have a drink.
[Flash:
9:45 p.m.] The beach is beginning to
swell with activity. People are dancing.
Music is pumping. Black lights are up
and bodies are being tattooed in Day-Glo
paint. Bikini-topped women on the better
side of twenty-five are dancing with
lithe, fully-follicled, lovehandleless
boys. Shit. I’m too old for this.
[Flash:
10:50 p.m.] I’ve never seen a
moon that seemed so close. I want to
grab it and put it in my pocket. I want
to steal the moon.
[Flash:
11:24 p.m.] I’ve misplaced my
bucket of vodka and Red Bull. Better
get another one.
[Flash:
12:37 a.m.] Who is this gorgeous woman
I am dancing with? Her eyes want to
make me burst out spontaneously into
song. I’d better buy her a drink
or something. Get her name, yeah, that’s
it. Act cool. You can do this. What
do I say? What line do I use?----um,…
hi. I like a girl in a bikini. No concealed
weapons to worry about----Shit!
Did I say that? She gives me a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-but-nice-try-anyway
look and redirects her attention back
over to my left. Shit! Shit! She wasn’t
dancing with me all this time; she was
dancing with the guy next to me----But,
he’s a fucking dork!----oops,
was that my outside voice again? Not
sure. Better get out and go see the
next bar.
[Flash:
1:18 a.m.] “No, I really don’t
want my hair braided!.... Yeah, I know,
it’s really cool, but
my hair’s not long enough anyway....
Listen! NO. I don’t want my hair
braided.... P-L-E-A-S-E leave me alone.
[Flash:
3:45 a.m.] I’m sitting cross-legged
on the beach resting my eyes when a
transsexual Thai prostitute begins groping
me. I push “her” away but
she keeps coming at me, calling me “honey,”
promising me a good time, and wanting
to hug me. I realize (in time)
that she’s trying to unzip my
pocket to go for my wallet. I push her
away, but as much as I try to calmly
remove her from my groin, she keeps
at it, fighting with me, so what else
can I do, I slap the bitch.
[Flash:
3:55 a.m.] “NO. I don’t
want a hair braid.”
[Flash:
4:30 a.m.] “Vodka good. Vodka
my best friend. Hey buddy, come here
and meet my friend, Vodka.”
[Flash:
5:12 a.m.] zzzzzzz.
[Flash:
10:27 a.m.] “Arghhhh!” I
scream, awake now, but now fully aware.
“If lobotomy would cure this pain,
I’d do it!”
[Flash:
10:58 a.m.] After a brief shower, I
walk down to the beach again, and “Oh-my-god!
You people are still here? Go home.
Sleep. Go home, I say. Feel as bad as
I do. NOW! You have no right to make
me feel this old. Bastards.”
|
