…Don’t mind him, he’s just a stupid, drunk American.

God, blogging and email seems to take such a long time… Eesh. Oh well.

So… last night was pretty crazy. I went out with Mehran and Steven to see a Muay Thai match– Thai boxing. Boxing isn’t necessarily … “my thing,” but I’m here for the experience, and Muay Thai is a large part of Thai culture. Anyhow, being marked as tourists from the moment we stepped out of the cab, we were … escorted and talked into buying ring-side seats, which were pricey but probably worthwhile. The boxing itself is was just plain crazy (google it for some pictures–). It’s like American boxing, except the Thai fighters use their feet and knees as well. As a matter of fact, the feet and knees were probably used more than the gloved fists, although the knockouts were invariably from a well-placed punch. The fighters themselves were tiny– most of them were 18, and probably not more than 120lbs. It was also surprisingly good natured– one fighter using his technique against the other– and the fighters would often slap gloves or hug briefly after the matches. Although violent, I don’t think that anger ever entered the ring last night.

Needless to say, the boxing match was fabulous. There were actually seven matches of five rounds each, three minutes per round. Live musicians provided traditional Thai music that the boxers, more often than not, would move to– almost as though dancing.

Often, I’ve been the kid that’s been do drunk I’ve needed someone to look after me, but last night the tables turned a bit. Steven, a new acquaintance from Seattle, drank entirely too much before and during the match last night. Of course, he was hitting on everything with legs last night. Our waitress, Kung, got the worst of it– “will you go on a date with me?” “you’re beautiful…” “I love you…” and a lot of broken French that Kung, who barely spoke English, didn’t understand any better than the rest of us. As a pleasant bi-product (ha– no pun intended) of this, Mehran got to talk with Kung a little during and after the match.

I’m consistently surprised by the Thai’s generosity (not so much in terms of material goods, but with their time, friendship). To make a long story shorter, after the match we couldn’t find Steven, despite numerous cell phone calls (mostly consisting of “where are you?” “I don’t know!” “what can you see?” “I see a black car.” “Yeah. That helps. Can you see a bridge..?”). We were about to abandon Steven to his own devices, when he called my phone.

“You guys gotta help me, I’ve been arrested.”

Maybe I should preface this by telling you a little about Steven first. He’s bi, and about my height and build– a little taller and skinnier, with dark brown hair. He studied for a year in France, and is, from the little I know him, a pretty intelligent and cultured guy. Although admittedly a little dorky, he seems soft-spoken and well composed. With that in mind…

Beer makes people do strange things. Apparently, after the match, Steven had seen a bicycle on the street. It’s unclear whether the cops/area security were already chasing him at this point, but once he took the bike they after him like white after rice. It’s all a little fuzzy, but apparently he, while riding the bike, he saw a motorbike, which looked faster. He dropped the bike and jumped on the motorbike, and managed to ride it for nearly twenty feet before, having never driven a motorbike before, he crashed into the cement.

When we found him, thanks to Kung talking to one of Steven’s guards on my phone to find out where he was, he was being held by the security/police. Kung did some interpreting, and, laughingly, they gave Steven to us (who had been frantically using the ATM machine, trying to pull enough money from his bank account to bribe the security guys into not sending him to Thai prison…) and told us to make sure that he was better behaved in the future.

And that… was my adventure last night.