Tales From The Front: Young, Dumb & Broke

Published on 13th December 2018 by Stickboy BKK

Stickboy, Budget Bobby & the Preston Potter are down the pub when a drunk Irishman stumbles in.

Alright, so “drunk Irishman” is redundant, but young Patrick was giving the stereotype a whole new meaning. Still, he was a personable lad, until he became too personable.

Over his single San Mig Light, the wayward Mick regaled the semi-soused trio with tall tales from his many years in Thailand, which turned out to be three.

“I read all those blogs, too, including Sticky Boy and Dave the Rave,” Patrick announced. “They’re OK, but sometimes they don’t know what’s really happening.”

Stickboy just looks at Budget Bobby: “Should I tell him?”

“No, let me,” Bobby says.

“Um, dear Patrick, you’re sitting next to Stickboy.”

Paddy nearly dropped his last drops of beer.

“Are you serious. Oh wow, I had no idea. I mean, well, what I was saying… I really respect what you do and…”

“We get the idea Patrick,” Stickyboy says, looking for the exit.

“No, really, I read your website like once or twice a week. It’s really gotten better in the past six months, by the way.”

“See, I told you,” Budget Bobby said, “No one reads your website.”

Tales From The Front

The hour was growing late and the pub owner was ready to call last orders at midnight. Stickboy alighted outside to light another cancer stick, leaving Budget Bobby and the Potter to deal with the young Patrick, who had anticipated nursing that one beer until 3 a.m. when his beloved Celtic came on the telly.

“No can do sir, you’ll have to find another bar,” Potter said.

“No, there is nothing open that late. I’ve looked. OK, I can watch it at home, but I can’t buy more beer at 7-Eleven now.”

Bobby suggested that, just maybe, Patrick had consumed enough beer.

“OK, I can respect that. Yes, I had about 9 or 10 beers before coming here.”

“And, per chance,” Bobby followed up, “where did you buy those 9 or 10 beers?”

“Well, I got the first one at Family Mart. And then I bought one at 7-Eleven.”

Potter, shaking his head then asked the obvious question, knowing the answer already: “And where did you drink those?”

“On the street.”

Booyah.

“I don’t understand why this place doesn’t stay open,” Paddy continued.

“Let’s put it this way,” the pub boss says, taking Patrick’s 140 baht and no tip. “And I don’t mean to be rude, but you’ve been here 25 minutes and you’ve had one beer. Yet you want us to stay open until 5 a.m.?”

Sorry Patrick, but there’s always Pattaya for you.

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