While walking to pick up my moped last night I came across a no-so-puzzling sight – my previous landlord and current good friend with a whiskey bottle in his soft brown hand. He raised the flask upward, let contents rain down (he drank so much booze that I thought he would drown), then saw me and called me to join him and drink while swatting the butt of a woman in pink. I shambled on over and took off my thongs and mingled well into the Balinese throng of men and one woman who lay or just sat; some of them were skinny, the others were fat. We sat then and drank there for almost an hour discussing the chance of a nightly rain-shower then heard from his wife who said my bike was fixed at which point we removed ourself from the mix. I hopped on the back of the nearest dirt bike and we hit the road with the speed of a shrike and made without incident his fine compound where his wife and in-laws soon gathered around. They looked at my moped and laughed when I showed the method to cover my pipe that I chose which involved six brackets, one length of bamboo, that stopped it from burning legs surfboards and shoes. Then off into darkness I sped without pause with sauce in my veins and a smile in my jaws and slept really poorly (because of the moon?) – believe me I will not booze again too soon.
© americanifesto / 場黑麥
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