HOW NOT TO BEHAVE

"So, good evening, hope everyone's having a good night.

Thanks to Johnny for his thing. I actually chuckled a couple times.

So I often like to start off with a show of hands. Let's see...hands up everyone who hasn't woken up stark naked in a bustling international airport at eight am?

Good show of hands, thank you. Tells me you've led a more sensible life than me in the main, hopefully. You over in back, stick around - we might want to compare notes later.

So, for context: I'm in Bali, not beachfront with all the Aussies - I'd just escaped from Australia - but living pretty well, inland in Ubud. Kind of the arts and cultural town unlike, say, Kuta.

Like I say, I'm living well 'cause it's so cheap there. I'm smoking like a chimney and drinking like a fish. And I'm freaking miserable. I'm heartbroken. The last woman I thought I'd ever love (wrongly) had ditched me. I was close to suicidal. I in turn ditched my job, most of my possessions, and Australia.

So I meant to stay in Bali for a month. Also wrongly - I'll get back to that. Spent a lot of that time bar hopping, visited some elephants, bathed in some sacred waters - did not achieve enlightenment unfortunately. Never mind, the food was brilliant. A bit of spiced fish, a cone of rice, some local greens and you'd think it was the best meal you ever ate.

But it came close to closing time. I had a ticket booked for the Philippines - I was running away basically - and so looking for accommodation in Manila the reviews were mentioning how great the staff were, especially after they - the guests - had been kidnapped and robbed.

That's about when my survival or homing instinct kicked in. I'd have happily stayed another month in Bali but left it too late to renew my visa. Like a dumbass, so I turned tail for New Zealand.

So I spent my last day there doing some last minute shopping and bar hopping to say bye to some of the people I'd gotten familiar with in my time there. Got a ride to Denpassar and straightaway hit the bar. Lost track of time and the intercom voice might have mentioned my name but couldn't make out anything anyway. My bad though, I hadn't checked in. Like a dumbass.

That's when a certain fellow comes up to the bar asking if I'm me. I of course reply yes. He offers to take me directly through as the plane's leaving soon. He does get me to grease his palm but I'm okay with that. So we get through to the immigration office.

However! It transpires that I have apparently overstayed by one day! Because it's April and I've booked a thirty day visa. However I've opted to leave on the thirty first day, whoops. While I'm debating this matter with the immigration officers, my plane takes off. Nothing to be done.

I slope off back. By this time I'm pretty pissed, in both senses of the word. I remonstrate with the check in people, who eventually pacify me with a rebooking for next day, bless 'em. I wander around, looking for some place to sleep with little joy. Oh yeah, there are no motels or hotels close to Denpassar airport, just so's you know. Might come in handy sometime.

So of course I find myself back at the bar, where there are some couches nearby. I ask if I can crash there - I'm spending money there so of course. So I proceed to get mightily drunk and eventually make my way to the couch. I'm not relishing either the long flight or the trip to my home town.

Now, I've been digressing a fair bit, but we're getting to the point: a thing I have developed a talent for, if you want to call it that, is the ability to get totally naked when going to sleep extremely drunk. Doesn't matter if I'm wearing boots, tight jeans, what have you. I'll get 'em off. It's kinda like sleepwalking I guess, but...sleep undressing. Don't know if that's a well documented thing but clearly, it happens.

You might see where I'm going with this by now. I wake up in a bustling international airport at about eight am. Naked as the day I was born. I do have my sarong draped over me. Now I don't know if I did the draping or not - I do recall one of the roaming attendants came by with a bit of a smirk and -

"Good morning sir. You were very drunk last night."

"Yes ma'am. Yes I was." Was the best reply I could muster.

This being after waking up, realizing what condition my condition was in, sitting up - okay, underpants, there. Pants, there. Socks, socks, there's one. There's another. Some kind of top, dear gods, how long has this been going on...

Finally recovered, back up to the bar because it's a while before my rescheduled flight. Thirty six or so hours later I'm standing outside the grey courthouse in my home town looking at the grey sky thinking again dear gods, what have I done...

Hey it worked out all right mostly. Take it as a cautionary tale or just an anecdote if you like. Thanks for your ears people. Keep 'em on, they look good on you."