I met a guy once in Cambodia. Let's call him Liam. Liam was one of those lifetime backpackers- already in his late thirties, never settled down, never stopped travelling, a little bit pitiable but also rather funny and incredibly knowledgable. There are many Liam's in the world.
I met Liam in a bar, where he was convincing bunches of people to sponsor his drinking and making plans to get across to Laos the following morning in some guy's truck. His stories were the kind of stories I hoped to one day tell. The kind of improbable, hair-raising, smile inducing, incredible memories that all travellers are jealous of, including me. Or at least I was until I witnessed how he picked them up.
Liam left us quite late into the night and I expected that was to be the last I saw of him. He wandered nonchalantly back into the bar about twenty minutes later and we soon learnt there were about thirty locals waiting for him outside. It turns out that moments before this, Liam made a business transaction with them (i.e. he got himself some coke) and had sampled what he was given and decided it wasn't strong enough... and refused to pay. If you're ever reading this, Liam, this is why I didn't add you on facebook.
Long, slightly threatening story short: Liam was forced by the bartenders to go pay for his goods (a full $10 I believe... outrageous!) and then went on his merry way. Now, one day, he's going to tell that story to other folks and they're going to think it's amazing. But it's not. In fact, it's an easy way to end up getting curb stomped by twelve year old asian drug dealers. Never fun.
Now I'm aware that I'm supposed to say that the moral to Liam's story is "Don't Do Drugs, Kids" but instead I'm going to go with "Don't Be A Stupid Moron, You Moron". Have a blast, do stupid things, make an idiot of yourself... but try and live to tell the tale. Dumb luck runs out for everyone eventually.
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