A Good Man

A Good Man

I consider myself full of vices, flawed. I act to my interest, in regards to my mental and emotional and financial and spiritual gain. However, the following will make you think otherwise. At least what I feel, and honestly I believe I deserve a goddamn medal.

Budapest, Hungary, 2017

It was a Friday or Saturday and it was a party night and we went to this club called Hello Babies and we had hit it hard me and my mate Tiger was boozed up already and we had talked to multiple dames. 

There was this was one set I had opened and Tiger had poached the most eager broad, an animal vet, and he had danced and done his three most favorite moves and they had gone home together.

Now I was left alone and that was fine and then to my right a girl was puking on the dancefloor. I looked away. Not my concern.

Another girl approached, tugged my shirt.

‘This your friend?’ she said.

Shook my head.

Not my concern.

‘You gotta help me. She is not my friend, either, and she has no one.’

She turned around and kept asking other people if they were her friend. Lasted half a minute or less, dont know since time passes differently in action packed scenes.

I looked at the girl. Vomiting, no friends, not really cute or anything memorable. Poor thing. 

I dont really care for doing the right thing, but I know what it feels like to be left alone, heck I was on my own, again, and I know what it feels like to get all shitfaced and puke.

I looked at the girl, ‘Yeah. Lets get her outta here.’

I grabbed the puking girl by her arm, the girl grabbed the other. 

She was light and leaned on me heavily, and I said to the girl that we were bringing the victim to the toilet.

It wasnt far and there was a guard orbiting the entrance to the toilet. I ignored him and dragged the spazzing chick to the girls’ bathroom. 

It didnt take seconds. Seconds. Before a random bimbo dashed inside after me and started shouting.

‘You cant be in here!’

I literally thought, Fuck you.

Zero situational awareness. Not gonna go AWALT,, but most women are dense in such scenarios and think how they feel is more important than any other event on the planet.

I looked at the convulsing girl. Then to bimbo.

‘This girl needs help. You gonna help her?’

‘You cant be in here!’

In pinches, like a soldier, learnt from experience really, ingrained, I have zero bullshit tolerance.

Clearly she had now grasped the situation but still gave me shit, like a dumb BIM-bo. Hoe.

I said, ‘Fuck off.’

I continued to walk the victim to the sink. But I was interrupted again. By a thick hand on my shoulder.

The guard.

Barrel-chested. Not tall, but just mean and muscled and eastern european.

I used reason. Most men get that. AMALT. I looked at the guy. Dead in the eye. Not my first rodeo. Let me put it this way, there used to be a time Id be able to count the number of times I was kicked outta the club. Now. I cant. Lost count.

I got too drunk, fought, no fists, stole someone’s beer, or people rat on me, or I was the only one NOT one drugs, people just generally found reasons to hate on me, and or be rascist and fuck them. Cunts.

So reason.

I said, ‘This girl needs help. She has no one. I had to walk her.’

Guy said, ‘You cant be in here.’

Third time. You gotta be kidding me.

I said, ‘Give me a sec.’

I turned to the girl and said, ‘I cant be in here. Apparently. Give her some water. And she will be fine. Look after her. You got this.’

I looked at the bimbo who had screamed and gave her a look that said geeesh. And then I walked myself out. The guy tried to lay his hands on me and I said Im good.

After that I didnt feel like partying no more. Left for home all alone in the dark, smoking and with puke on my pants.

Ljubljana, Slovenia, 2018

Outside one of two clubs they had in the city, the place to be, or not to be, depending on your take, to my left there were two girls.

One girl was utterly smashed and the other less ditched her with me. Didnt really know what went on, but after the fact I did some ratiocinations. Maybe it was like highschool and the drunk one liked me and the other tried to help me or her or both. 

I dont really care and it didnt matter as the girl didnt intrigue me visually, viscerally, or emotionally or anything.

But that same notion of been there done that boiled up again.

I decided to walk her home, or wherever she was headed.

She kept saying.


It is a balkan pastry, layered, salted and filled with meat or cheese or spinach what have you. 

Strange. Maybe it was a lure for free food I dont know. It was late and thought fuck it and we snaked left and right away from the center, all the way to the street leading to the city’s train station. Quaint and compact city.

The kebab shop owner looked like all the kebab shop owners in the world. Tired but wired, alert for possible altercations, but brimming with customer service. Polite but dont fuck with me, its late.

I know the drill.

I looked to the drunk broad.

‘What do you want?’

She chose a more expensive heartier option. Not the plain cheap normal one. Even drunk, girls are picky.

I ordered two and ate with her. We finished up as we doubled back, and then at the city’s square, there was a random dude she must’ve texted and she flung in his arm, and hugged him, and she didn’t even say thank you and left with him in the dark.

I stood there.

Budapest, Hungary, 2017 AGAIN

The second time I went back, I was with a crew of students on a bus trip, and I was left with this cute cool chicana from San Francisco. She was savvy and had brimming eyes and always fun and jet black hair.

We were eating pizza in a joint, connected to the littest club in Budapest that always closes at 6. Always. Every day of the week. Every.

I hate other cities cos of this simple yet awesome fact. Clubs should stay open this late. But they dont. 

The place had an upstairs with a few tables and chairs and we sat and ate our pizza and I was having a good time, but to the table to the left of us was a blasted kid. Gone. He was leaning forward, head cradling in his hands and lap. 

Not my concern. 

I ate my pizza, when Edie, the mexican girl said, ‘We have to help him. We cant just leave him.’

This girl had a good heart. Better than mine. Or she mustve been in some deep shit herself, like me. Like the drunk Hungarian kid. Edie later told me she’d loved to get fucked up. Crazy girl. 

Edie was pushing it. Saying the same sentence over and over. Have to help him, cant leave him. 

It was late. In Budapest and on the roads I am quite charitable, literally Im free, and have no place to go. 

Therefore, why not help the kid. Collect some Karma points.

The usual drill. Keep the guard away, who was rushing up the stairs, and to our table, and preventing him from throwing the kid out, on the streets, and gesturing and saying nah he with us. 

Then slapping the shit outta the kid, while extracting his contacts, and where he was staying, and where the fuck are your friends, and why are they your friends. 

And giving him my fucking pizza, to sober him up, which I’d pay for, but I wasnt even hungry, but it was the principle. 

Edie had grabbed his phone, and on his wrist he had a bracelet with his hostel contacts, for people that get shitfaced and fucked. 

Edie used his data and phone and google maps and off we went. We sauntered the dark streets of Budapest and we brought him home to his hostel. 

The rest of the night me and Edie were alone and we walked back home to our hostel. 

Bangkok, Khao San Road, Thailand, 2019

The following is an excerpt from my non fiction novel, LLT, about my Adventures in Thailand https://gum.co/wtJcV :

I left and went right and down the street, looking for trouble. Not a minute later I found it, on the sidewalk to my left. Three of four girls were circling a guy  sitting on the curb. One girl was cradling his head. The guy was drooling and saying nonsense. He’d gone full zombie mode and drank himself to smithereens. 

We’ve all  been there.  I approached the group.  One girl was laughing, another shouting, one was taking pictures. It was utter  mayhem. I started talking. 

 ‘You his friends?’ I asked.  

To my left, a sane girl said, ‘No. We just found him.’  

I thought, Fuck me. Not again. If I’d get payed every time I saved a person  from alcohol stupidity I’d be rich. I saved a girl in Ljubljana, Slovenia. I saved a  drunk girl in Budapest, Hungary, the first time I went. The second time I went, I saved a guy. It happens so many times and I just sigh and do the right thing. I  mean, I’m just the wrong guy at the wrong time at the wrong place. Or the right. Depending how you look at it.  

I took control.  I said, ‘Shut up.’  

The shouting and laughing girls instantly piped down.   

I checked again.   

‘So you are not his friends?’  The girl to my left nodded.   

I started talking to the drunk kid. He was slurring his words heavily but told  me his name. He was from America but Thai and had been studying here. He was ditched by his ‘friends’ and they were picking up their phones. He tried calling them  as I chatted with him. No response. Friends, right.   

I stayed calm and knew I had to be that way or everybody would lose it. It  was fine since I had nothing to do this night and had done this many times over.   

I said, ‘You puked?’  

He said no.   

I said, ‘You’re gonna puke. And get that poison outta your system and you’re  good.’  

He didn’t want to and I said bitch do it now. I explained him my two finger  and wiggle system. He wiggled and puked on the curb and the girls didn’t flinch  that much. Not their first rodeo.   

I said to one of the girls get water. She fetched water and I fed it to him. And like any wasted dude, he wouldn’t drink it. Don’t ask me why, and I’ve done it too,  but they never take the water. I think they wanna wallow in their self-misery and pity. Water makes you clean and sane and responsible. You just wanna drown in your drunken sorrows. Somewhere along those lines.   

He was getting better and we needed to find him his place to stay and fix this  thing for good. We got his wallet. The girl knew where he stayed. Pretty fancy places. Condominiums. For students who were rich. Rich boy. Party gone wild and  friends ditch you at some curb. Woohoo. Thing about the condo, it was far. I said I don’t care he can’t stay here.  

I said, ‘Let’s get him on a cab. He takes it from there. Leave his drunk ass in  the cab.’

Girl shook her head.  

 ‘I don’t trust Thai people.’  

I smirked. She doesn’t trust her own kind. I liked the girl. Smart cookie. She said they’d rob him clean, and she was right. I’d saved his ass so far. Can’t just ditch  him. I had an epiphany. I’d let him sleep at my hostel. It was just a walk away and he had the money.   

He constantly said, with a slur, ‘I have all the money in the world. Please help  me. I just want to sleep.’ I wanted to laugh so hard, but the situation was very serious. I had to keep it  together.   

The girls decided they would party on somewhere else. They wouldn’t join  us. The girl that had been cradling his head, wouldn’t let go. I said let go of him and  come with me. They wouldn’t. They just didn’t want to be involved anymore and shifted the burden to me. That was fine and I was more than okay and up for the  gig. Not my first rodeo. Fuck me. I save drunk people across the globe.   

I asked the American kid if he could walk he said yes. He could actually and  held his ground quite good actually. Then the smart Thai girl looked at me one last time.   

She said, ‘You’re a good man.’  

I shrugged and said thank you. The girls left and I was alone with the fucked  up American Thai boy. I told him he was American and that he needed to man up. Show me his Yankee spirit. For one final push. The hostel wasn’t far.   We went out walking. The whole time he said he wanted to sleep. The whole time he said thank you, thank you, thank you. I told him to shut up and I was  pissed and showed him some tough love. I said he was a dumbass and was maybe projecting a bit of harshness aimed towards myself onto him. I drink a lot, too. 

Thing is I know I’m alone. His friends left him. Dumbass.   

I gave him some pep talk. Man up. You’re American right. Show me your  spirit. Same thing, over and over and over again. Then a ladyboy prostitute  approached us. Man, these people have no shame. She either wanted to clean him  empty, money, wallet, cards, everything, or she wanted to fuck him. In this state.  Man, no shame. I just looked at her, or him, with a fierce gaze. And said, ‘ No. ’  

He backed up.   We made it to the hostel and I checked the fucker in. The girl behind the  counter took the situation like a champ. As if this happens every night.   

I led him, with slippers and all, to his room upstairs. He slept in the same  room as I and I dumped him there. I said don’t go out and shut up and sleep. 

If you liked the Excerpt, check out the complete novel here: https://gum.co/wtJcV

So there we go. 2017 two times, 2018, 2019. Decide for yourself if I deserve a medal. Maybe it’s me putting the universe back in balance. Maybe I bring balance to the Force, of drunk ass kids. Thing is I’ve become quite an expert of these situations and operate in these uncommon and annoying situations like a duck in water. 

Funnily enough, now, reminiscing, these stories warm my heart, as all my memories do, all the times truly lived, are times not wasted. And heck, I bet no one could live to these tales like I do. That in itself is a commendation enough.


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