As some of you will know by now, YP and I arrived on Friday looking less than our best. Rewind 15 hours and were fresh as the daises that YP has in his hair.
Arriving at Heathrow Terminal 5 around 4pm I had only an hour before meeting YP at Terminal 3. I hit the bar at Terminal 3 (arrivals) and waiting for the kid. One of my work pals (Bazza) just happened to be in Heathrow also – so I called him up for a quick beer.
After a couple of hours of drinking with Bazza and YP at the extortionate prices, we were well on the way to getting arseholed. Realizing that if went and checked in to our Thailand flight (which was open) we could be drinking for free. It is a recession after all, so best we be thrifty. And besides, Bazza had enough stories of ladyboys, girlyboys and the ins and outs of the Nana Plaza.
As I have made one or two flights to Thailand in recent years, it wasn’t hard to qualify for a gold member card – so went straight to the VIP check in with YP. We had looked ‘fresher’. The plan was to upgrade YP to business class but as we’re in a recession, it was easier to downgrade me to economy. No hardship. I was given the Biz lounge passes so off we skipped merrily to Duty Free to buy various teddybears, perfumes and bottles of strong booze. Being drunk, the guy in duty free managed to talk us into buying more bottles than we needed and even persuaded us to get some vodka flavored miniatures. (bad idea).
Into the lounge – YP hit the drinks cabinet like he was in Supermarket Sweep. Couple of bloody Marys, Vodka cokes and a few tins of some beer were presented to me for consumption. A few cucumber sandwiches nibbled on, tomato juice all over the floor and a couple of loud farts later we had to go to the gate. Don’t remember too much about the journey to the gate, only barging through the queuing crowd at the gate shouting “out the way… coming through….gold card…. YP and DW on the way…” and various other comments that I am none too proud of.
We made our way to the cheap seats and were soon bored. We were the 1st on the plane so thought it best we use up the time to drink the miniature vodka bottles we bought. We chugged them. As people walked past us we came up with the game of ‘spot the sex tourist’. Shouting out ‘Pattaya’ at each old duffer that went past covered in faded tattoos we soon drew attention to ourselves. It wasn’t long before a high-vis jacket wearing official looking person came to us and asked for identification in the form of my Airline Membership card. He then asked how much alcohol we’d consumed. I told him that we were only in the lounge for an hour, so.. a fucking lot. He walked off. YP and I quickly hid all the bottles in our bags and chucked them in the overhead locker. We then tried to act all normal and sober. This was due to the hot Thai chick that wanted to take her seat next to me Nothing to do with us being moments away from being hoofed off the flight.
Trying our best to chat up this Thai chick it was soon apparent that our skills were less than honed. “excuse me sir”…. oh no, Hi-Vis man was back with some flight attendents. “Sir, we have reason to believe you are consuming too much alcohol. We can’t alllow you to drink your own alcohol on board”. Great, that means we will just drink your booze then?
In my sober voice I said that we have no booze and no intention to drink anymore as we want to sleep. The wrote up some form and told us that had we not have been a VIP we would have been refused to fly on the plane. We just looked shocked and innocent and told them that we had no intention of drinking anymore.
After signing their little form and noting that the details on the form were YP’s details and not mine, I felt a little at ease. Off they walked back down the plane. All the surrounding people were looking at us in disgust. Can’t really blame them. Wow.. we got away with that one YP. Feeling like a little celebration, YP pulled out a can of beer from under his seat (in case of emergency?) and I cracked it open. Have you ever opened a shaken can or beer? It went not only all over me, but the hot chick next to me. She wasn’t happy. She pulled out her wipes and handed one to me. Whilst we both dried ourselves off, YP drank the beer.
Not too sure what happened after that…. We hadn’t even taken off yet…. we dropping in and out of consciousness. At one point we came too as they were serving food. Ah… food. Good idea. We shoved it down our necks. That wasn’t enough for YP and he decided to help himself to other peoples trays. This wasn’t as funny to the other passengers as it was to us!
Again… we passed out. I was then woken up by the flight attendant. So what you say? Well, I wasn’t in my seat. I was sitting on the crapper. I don’t remember going to the toilet. I don’t remember being sick or taking a dump either. I do remember looking up as the flight attendant had to open the toilet door from the outside to see why I had been in there so long. I told her to get lost as I was taking a crap and then had a bit of a cleaning session to get on with. With that all done I made my way back to my seat. YP was sleeping and the hot chick was no longer there. Where did she go? I don’t know how much time passed… around 8 hours I think. I woke up to find that YP and I were ‘spooning’ over the 3 seats. The girl had gone. So had our self respect and dignity. We were now coming into Bangkok and needed to buckle up. I looked down at my clothes and saw that my shirt and trousers were all covered in dried vomit. So was YP’s. It was also up my back. We’d looked better.
Looking at the other passengers faces I can only assume we had been snoring, farting and smelling for most of the journey.
We left the plane, broken, ashamed, stinking, embarrassed and told ourselves that we really shouldn’t behave like this at our age.
After collecting luggage we went to find a taxi to take us to Lolitas.