When I woke up, I was somewhere. Someone's house. An aunty came over with tea and said, “Chicken ko khu ta khani.” I replied, “Khani kani,” without fully understanding where I was or how I got there.
All I could recall was drinking at Club Wanderlust. They didn't have wheat beer, so I'd had apple soju and larger beer — mixed. Before the club, I'd had a highland whisky and wheat beer combo. A bold combination.
I went outside to figure out where I was. In front of me: Paro airport.
Damn. I'm in Paro.
I had 200 bucks, a packet of cigarettes, and a biri in my pocket. I called one of my best friends in Paro and told her I was there — and had absolutely no idea what had happened the night before. Luckily, she was heading to Thimphu, so I tagged along.
I'm now sitting in my bed wondering what happened. Writing this.
Merry Christmas, everyone. Or as I prefer to say: Merry Kissmyass.